Rare Blend (Red Mountain #1)

40. Marisa

CHAPTER 40

Marisa

SAY SOMETHING IN SPANISH

“ W hat now?”

We’re parked between our two cottages, both of us unmoving, unsure of what to do.

“We could unpack?” Ethan suggests.

The last thing I feel like doing is unpacking. Normally, I would need some alone time after having spent the entire day and night with someone, but with Ethan, the need to recoup with some solitude doesn’t hit me. Instead, I only want more of his company, but I know I’ll come off as clingy, so I remain quiet.

Together, we get out, and Ethan helps me with my bags to my front door.

“I guess this is goodbye for now,” I tell him, feeling shy despite having done very not-shy things the past twenty-four hours.

He bites his cheek, holding back a smile. “Goodbye for now,” he agrees, and bends down to give me a light peck.

It doesn’t stay light for long, though, because once his lips are on mine, I can’t help but slip my tongue in and stroke it against his. He groans and backs me up against the door, deepening the kiss, and letting his hands roam my body.

I shamelessly rub myself against him, pleased to find his hardening length ready for me. I should be worn out and exhausted, but I can already feel dampness between my thighs.

He eases back from our kiss, and his ragged breath fogs between us. “What are you doing to me? I’m fucking addicted to you.”

I toy with the collar of his flannel and sway a little, feeling ridiculously happy. “The feeling is mutual.”

“New plan.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Since we both have work tomorrow, let’s each unpack and get ready for the work week. When we’re done, we’ll figure out whose place to stay at.”

My head is already nodding in agreement before he’s even finished. “I like the sound of that.”

He kisses me again. “Good.”

“Don’t you usually have family dinner on Sundays?”

“Yeah, but it started an hour ago, and honestly, I’d rather be with you. My family can go without me for this one.”

His admission makes something twinge in my chest. We’ve spent so much time together, and he’s still not sick of me.

I fight my instinct to cling to him like a koala and let him go. Once I’m inside, the cottage feels dead and lifeless, like it’s missing all the things that make it homey, even though everything is right where it should be.

I’m way too keyed up to unpack and opt for a shower instead. I lather on an extra amount of vanilla soap since Ethan seems to love it so much and I’m all for encouraging anything that keeps his hands and mouth all over me.

After the shower, I pack an overnight bag with enough toiletries and clothing for tomorrow. It’s probably too soon, and moving too fast, but I have no interest in being apart from Ethan. What that means for the future is not something I’m ready to deal with right now. What I do know is this is the happiest I’ve ever felt, and I’m going to go with what feels right, and not let doubts start to creep in, and ruin this.

Ethan opens the door and looks a little taken aback to see me standing on his porch. Those doubts I was trying to suppress come rushing back, and my stomach sinks like a stone. I’m too eager, too much, too everything. But he quickly takes those intrusive thoughts and annihilates them as he pulls me inside.

A whoosh escapes my lips, and he captures it with his mouth, kissing me with abandon.

He moves from my lips and trails open-mouth kisses down my neck.

“Baby, I was going to come to you.”

I let out a breathy laugh. “I figured Goose would be more comfortable in his own home.”

On cue, Goose snores loudly, and Ethan shakes his head. “Shane made him gourmet dog food, and he ate himself into a food coma.”

“Looks like I made the right choice then.”

His lips press into a smirk. “I don’t care where we sleep as long as you’re in bed next to me.”

Butterflies flutter in my chest, sending my heart into an erratic frenzy. “I can get on board with that.”

He swoops down, wrapping his arms around me, right under my ass, and lifts me into the air. A string of squeals and giggles fly out of me as he carts me into his bedroom and tosses me on the bed. I land with a small thud and let my arms and legs fall freely, giving him space to settle over me. His heavy body moves over mine, sinking me into the mattress as his calloused fingers glide under my dress. Did I purposely put on a dress not at all appropriate for the weather? Absolutely.

“No panties, baby? Again?” he nearly growls as his hands explore my inner thighs, teasing me by getting close but not quite close enough.

Squirming under him, my body searches for relief.

“Patience,” he tuts. “I haven’t fucked you in my bed yet, and you better believe I’m going to take my time.”

I sigh, letting my head fall to the side. “I’ve slept in it, though.” I offer him a mischievous smile and his heated eyes meet mine.

“Trust me.” He pauses, slipping a single finger inside of me. “I remember. I even had a key to your place, but by that point, rational thinking was out the window.”

I gasp both from surprise and from the way his finger is pumping in and out of me. “I knew it! I knew you knew about the keys.”

A knowing grin lights his face as a second finger sinks in. “Of course I know about the keys. I selfishly wanted you in this bed because I never thought I’d get a real chance. Best fucking night of my life until I got to kiss you.”

My back starts to arch off the bed as his fingers work in a delicious rhythm.

“Kissing me was the best night of your life?” I question, my words laced in obvious doubt.

His mouth runs down the length of my neck, scattering soft pinches. “Every moment with you is the best.” He stops his attack on my neck and forces our gazes to meet. “Like right now? Best fucking night of my life. You in my bed, under me, soaking pussy, I could die a very happy man.”

If I wasn’t already falling for this man, he has to go and say the sweetest things I’ve ever heard. Before I can think to hold them back, tears begin to well in my eyes. I don’t bother trying to blink them away, because even if Ethan wasn’t looking directly at me, he would somehow still sense my sudden surge of emotion. It seems he reads me better than just about anyone.

“What’s wrong?” The concern in his voice is so prevalent, it only makes my tears come on harder, blurring my vision. With the pad of his thumb, he swipes one away as it falls from the corner of my eye.

“It’s nothing,” I lie as I start to sit up.

He eases off me and moves to lie on his side, facing me.

He doesn’t push me, instead he waits patiently while I gather my thoughts.

“Here I go again, ruining a perfectly good moment.” I let out a quavering laugh, trying to make things feel less heavy.

Ethan cups the side of my face, gently using his thumb to rub at my temple. “Baby, tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s just that— It’s—No one has ever said such nice things to me.” Saying the words out loud feels like a whole different kind of embarrassment. He must think I’m pathetically sad. A sad, lonely girl. The thoughts are enough to force my eyes from his to look anywhere else.

Gently, his hold slides down to grip my chin, and he turns my head to face him. “Hey, I’m not feeding you a bunch of lines. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m a pretty literal guy and I don’t say things I don’t mean. You’re incredible, and I’m going to spend every day you let me reminding you of that.”

My head tilts, resting on his hand, and I close my eyes, nodding and breathing deeply. “Okay.” It comes out a muddled whisper.

He softly chuckles and shakes his head. “Well now that I’ve made you cry in the first five minutes of being here, should we watch something and relax?”

My lips roll together, biting my smile. “I would love to watch something.”

We crawl under the covers, my body draping over his like he’s my own personal body pillow. He doesn’t seem to mind as he flicks through the channels and his hand that’s wrapped around my shoulder draws lazy circles on my upper arm. We’ve done this countless times in the past few weeks—but not like this . All those times spent putting distance between us seem silly when I can’t think of anything else feeling more right than being in his arms on a Sunday evening. Goose hops up on the bed and lies down at the foot, totally content.

“How about this?” Ethan asks. He’s on one of the Spanish-speaking channels.

“Another novela?” I tease. “I’m starting to think you like them more than I do. It must be all the ridiculous drama.”

He laughs, a low rumble. “Maybe I like watching you watch them.”

I angle my head to meet his gaze. “Say something in Spanish.”

“What?” A blush starts to bloom across his face.

“Please,” I beg. “I only heard you speak it the one time, but it was really hot.”

Still blushing, he adjusts me so I’m lying on top of him, resting on his stomach.

“What do you want me to say?”

My shoulders lift, my own cheeks flushing. “I don’t know. Anything.”

“?Dónde está la biblioteca?” (Where is the library?)

I snort, falling into a fit of laughter. His deep voice speaking Spanish might be the most endearing thing I’ve ever heard. Of all the things he could’ve said, he chose to speak the one phrase everyone learns on day one.

“What’s so funny?” His lips disappear as he bites them back to tamper down his amusement. “You said anything.”

“Say something else. Something you don’t learn in Spanish 101.”

Sighing, he breathes a laugh. “Fine, how about this? Eres muy hermosa.” (You are very beautiful)

“Better,” I muse, unable to contain my cheek splitting smile.

He playfully rolls his eyes. “Okay, one more. And then it’s your turn.” Some of the playfulness in his expression eases, and his eyes regard me tenderly. “No puedo imaginar mi vida sin ti.” (I can’t imagine my life without you.)

I scoot up and place a soft kiss to his lips. “Like I said. You’re a big ol’ softy.”

When I try to pull back, he keeps me in place, continuing to gently move his lips over mine while his fingers comb through my hair.

I take his bottom lip between my teeth and give him a little nibble. He responds by swatting my ass, forcing a yelp out of me while his brows quirk up.

“Your turn. Tell me something in Spanish and make it dirty.”

I shoot him a narrowed, mock glare. “Oh, you’re one of those guys. I see how it is. You have a Latina fetish.”

“No.” His face scrunches. “I am not one of those guys. I like hearing you talk, no matter the language. Ramble away, baby.”

My heart skips, surging into my throat. I’m overwhelmed by the way his words heal a part of me I didn’t realize was wounded.

“Just one sentence. Please,” he begs. He even throws in a pout.

How can I say no to that?

“One sentence. And only because I’m nice.”

His smile broadens, and it feels blinding with how bright it shines when it’s directed at me. For a man who makes it his business to scowl, that grumpy scowl has nothing on his smile.

I open my mouth to speak but hesitate for a moment. “Just so you know, my Spanish isn’t perfect. I’m only half-Mexican. Everyone always expects my Spanish to be perfect, because I don’t look half and then when it’s not, I’m a disappointment.”

His expression softens. “Baby, nothing you could ever say would be a disappointment to me. Fuck everyone else and their opinions.”

Warmth settles in my chest. But the longer I watch him, as he patiently waits for me to speak, the more that warmth travels down toward my stomach and lands between my thighs. He requested something dirty, and I think I can deliver.

“Siempre estoy mojada por ti.” (I’m always wet for you.)

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I guess I am one of those guys.”

I snicker, pressing my head in his chest as I laugh. “I was only fulfilling your request. Did you like it?”

He rolls us so he’s on top of me, holding his weight with flexed arms on either side of my head. His veins branching across his forearm send my stomach into a somersault and force my thighs to involuntarily squeeze.

“Fuck yeah,” he says and then brands me with a searing kiss.

I open my mouth, letting him sink deeper into the kiss. Our movements turn frantic, tangled limbs, pulling of clothes, sheets twisting around us. His hard cock nudges between my legs, and I roll my hips, aching for it.

“Let me go down on you first,” Ethan says with a groan.

I roll my hips again, seeking friction.

“Please, baby.”

I’ve never had a man beg to go down on me. Who am I to deny him?

I give a slight nod and smile. “If you must.”

He tosses a smug smirk at me, and a rush of hot air flows over my body. As his lips travel their way down and his hands work at lifting my dress that’s bunched at my waist, the building heat spreads across my skin, leaving me flushed. His rough palms pry my knees apart and his eyes stare directly between my legs.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He uses his index finger to swipe at the seam, swirling my arousal around and causing my hips to buck. “I love how wet you get for me.” His finger gently brushes over my clit, and I moan, tossing my head to the side.

My eyes shut as the overwhelming feeling of his touch courses through me. His hot breath blows over the sensitive skin, and the intense need for him almost feels unbearable.

“Ethan,” I cry. “Please.”

“Eyes on me, baby,” he says with his head between my thighs.

I shift my head forward to meet his darkened hazel stare.

“Watch me make you come.”

I watch him extend his tongue and bury it inside my pussy, swirling and lapping and sucking relentlessly. Two fingers slide in and out of me while his thumb circles my clit. Within seconds, I’m a mess of raspy exhales and desperate moans, only further encouraging every flick of his tongue and brush of his fingers.

Soon my thighs are shaking as my back bows off the bed. My vision goes hazy, the edges turning blinding white as an orgasm tears through me. Ethan continues using his tongue to draw it out as the ripples of pleasure pulse through me.

As I’m coming back to my senses, Ethan moves to hover over me, the last of his clothes now gone and his lips coated in a shiny sheen.

“Your mouth can’t be real. I have no idea how you make me come so fast.”

He shoots me a crooked grin, and I fight an eye roll, knowing the comment has gone straight to his head.

“Maybe my mouth was made for your pussy.” He licks his lips and then presses them to mine.

I kiss him back, hungrily, sweeping my tongue around his.

“See how good you taste, baby? How sweet your pussy is.”

Something about getting to experience this side of Ethan drives me absolutely wild. No one would ever suspect he has such a dirty mouth in bed. It’s been the best, unexpected surprise, and it makes me completely desperate for him in a way I’ve never felt before. So desperate that I need him inside me more than I need my next breath. I reach for his cock and give it a firm pump as I rub my thumb over the bead of pre-cum at his tip before I guide him to my entrance.

Ethan rocks his hips forward and is inside of me, filling me to the hilt. We still for a moment, relishing in the feeling of being completely connected.

“Like I said, best fucking night of my life.”

Ethan smashes his lips against mine, feverishly kissing me as he fucks me rough and deep and fast. The familiar build of heat starts to unfurl in my core, and my hips move up to meet his thrusts.

“Give me another one. I want to feel your pussy choke my cock as you come.”

He drops his hand between us, as his fingers draw quick circles over my clit, and it’s just what I need to fall over the edge, coming again. Except this time my cries of ecstasy mingle with Ethan’s grunts as he comes along with me, filling me with thick, warm liquid.

“Holy shit,” Ethan pants.

We stay a mess, wrapped in each other’s bodies. He stays inside of me even though he’s no longer hard, and I revel in the comfort of his weight blanketing me.

It’s been my experience that most men don’t want to touch after sex, but not Ethan. If anything, it’s like he wants to touch me more afterward.

Eventually, we untangle and Ethan pads off to the bathroom. The moment he’s gone, I feel the mattress dip. Confused, I look over my shoulder to see Goose on the bed, settling into Ethan’s spot. His puppy dog eyes dissolve any part of me that would think to shoo him away, and instead I scratch his head and cuddle up to him.

I hear Ethan’s footsteps returning and listen as they pause in the doorway. When I turn to meet his eyes, there’s a small smile on his lips. He walks in, shaking his head in faux annoyance.

“Goose, are you trying to steal my girl?”

My heart skips a beat and then skitters erratically, a whirlwind of emotion rushing through me as I catch his eyes. My girl . Two words I never knew could make me feel so much happiness.

He scoots Goose to move back to his spot on the edge and crawls on the bed, resting on his knees.

“Spread your thighs.”

My eyes nearly bug out. “Again? I need at least an hour.”

Chuckling, he shakes his head. “No, not again.” He lifts his right hand to show me he’s holding a washcloth. “Figured I’d be a gentleman and clean you up.”

“Oh.” My skin flushes. “Um…okay.” I do as he says, opening my legs for him. After everything we’ve done, I shouldn’t feel self-conscious, yet this feels like the most intimate thing we’ve ever done.

The washcloth is warm against my over-sensitized skin as he gently cleans our shared release. It’s not sexual; it’s so much more than sexual. It’s caring.

When he’s done, he leaves to discard the washcloth before coming back to bed and settling in beside me. He pulls me close, my back to his chest.

“I love sleeping with you in my arms.” He nuzzles into my hair.

“I love it, too.”

I love it so much, I don’t think I ever want to go without it. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so blissfully happy yet so incredibly screwed at the same time.