Recklessly, Wildly Yours (Only Yours Book 3), page 21
He takes Gage’s seat. “Which one? I’ll be sure to keep you two apart from now on.”
I smile and lean in for a kiss while sliding my hand under his suit jacket and curving it over his abs. “Gage, and there is no chance of me ever forgetting that you’re the Black brother who owns this filthy mouth of mine, so please don’t keep him from me. I enjoy his company too much for that.”
“Fuck,” he curses softly. “I really like seeing you with my family.”
My hand is still on his body and I’m unsure how I’ll let him go. “You say that like it’s something new for you.” I’m recalling what Gage said about the women Ethan has brought home before.
“It is new for me,” he confides. “Connecting my family with my girlfriends has always been difficult. For a number of reasons, the least of which was me and the emotional place I was in. With you, it feels easy.”
Ethan’s told me about his relationship with his parents, in particular his father, so I know that would have played a part in this. We haven’t really talked about the women he’s dated, so I have no knowledge of that, but Gage has me thinking that those women maybe didn’t support Ethan the way he needed. And while Ethan’s saying that connecting me with his family feels easy, I know that’s not all on me because he’s told me about the work he did on himself while he was away in Europe.
“I’m glad,” I say. “And just so you know, being with your family feels easy for me too.”
He rests his hand on my thigh. “I’m going to introduce you to my parents now. Are you ready for that?”
“Yes. Let’s hope they can forget that the first time they met me I was running away from my wedding.”
His eyes search mine. “You’re worried about that?”
“Yes.” I take a deep breath. “Our meet-cute really isn’t the kind that I think any parent would imagine for their child. Your dad gave me some looks at Callan’s wedding and I don’t blame him. And before you go all protector over that on my behalf, I think it’s a very reasonable response to seeing his son arrive at his other son’s wedding with a woman wearing the wedding dress she put on for another man.”
He takes that all in and is quiet for a moment while thinking about it. Then, he says, “What the fuck is a meet-cute? Did you and Leigh make that shit up?”
I pull my hand from his abs and pat his chest. “Contrary to what you think, Leigh and I do actual work all day. We’re very busy women. I suggest you use those thumbs of yours and spend some time on Google, grandpa, so you can keep up with us.”
His lips twitch. Then, he looks at his mom who’s sitting three seats away from me and says, “Mom, I’d like you to meet Madeline. And if you know what a meet-cute is, you two are bound to become fast friends.”
The warm smile his mother gives me can only be classified as the best thing that’s happened to me today. “It’s lovely to meet you, Madeline.” Her smile grows and her eyes twinkle as she glances at her son and then back at me. “I do know what a meet-cute is and I hope my son is right that we will become fast friends.”
I take back what I said about her warm smile being the best thing of today. What she just said has taken its place.
“I hope so too, Ingrid. And honestly”—I grin at her son—“how do these men survive in the world when they don’t know things such as meet-cutes and acronyms and slang?”
Ingrid laughs. “That’s why they need us, honey. To help them get through life.”
“I absolutely agree,” I say, enjoying her son’s full attention as he gives me a fun shake of his head.
Then, he looks at his dad. When he speaks this time, he’s more reserved. Far less relaxed than when he spoke to his mother. “Dad, Madeline.”
Edmund’s eyes have been glued to me since the moment Ethan introduced me to his mother. Not that I’ve been staring at him all that time, but much like Gage, his father has an intensity about him that can’t help but be sensed. “It’s good to meet you, Madeline.” He’s not as reserved as Ethan, but his tone and body language show he’s holding himself back. Watching. Waiting. Just like Gage. And like I told Ethan, I don’t blame him.
“You too, Edmund. Do you know what a meet-cute is?”
He blinks. Sits back a little. Appears surprised. He doesn’t smile but there’s a subtle easing of his expression. “I do not. I hope you’ll enlighten me.”
Ethan chuckles. “You and me both.”
Ingrid leans into her husband as she waits for me to share this information with her husband and son. I’m struck by the way Edmund’s body magnetizes to hers as she does this. Ethan has told me a lot about their marriage and I’m not sure I would have expected this display of affection.
“Okay, you two,” I say, playfully stern, “listen closely. A meet-cute is a cute, charming, or amusing first encounter between two people that leads to a romantic relationship. Like the first encounter that Ethan and I had.” I look at Edmund. “Has he told you about how we met?”
“He has not.”
With a quick smile at Ethan, I launch into a story that’s important for me to share with his dad because if I know anything about the way men interact, I don’t think Edmund would ever get this full story from his son, and I want him to know all of it.
I begin with a quick explanation of why I was running from the hotel that day, so he can understand why I couldn’t go through with my wedding. Then, I share how his son was the one person in the traffic that day who came to my rescue, and how he then cared for me.
“I know how it must have looked to you when Ethan arrived at Callan’s wedding with a runaway bride on his arm,” I say to both his parents, “but I want you to know that my actions on the day we met were out of character. I’m not flighty and I never break commitments like I did then. However, right now, sitting here with your son, I’m so glad I broke that commitment and I can’t be sorry about that.”
Ingrid’s the first to speak. “Thank you for sharing that with us, Madeline, and I want you to know there’s no judgment here. Like I told Ethan recently, the only people who know what goes on in a relationship are the people in it. I can see how happy my son is with you and that’s all that matters to me.”
“Thank you.” I think I’m going to really like Ethan’s mom.
Edmund is still watching and waiting. I can see that in him, but I also see respect in his eyes. “I appreciate your candor,” he says. And that’s all he says, but then, I probably didn’t expect more. I think he needs to watch and wait a while longer before he’ll give me more.
Ethan gets back to work and his brothers return to the table. I spend a fun afternoon with the Black family and we all get to know each other a little more. Ingrid comes to sit with me for a bit and we talk about my parents, my childhood, and how I got started in my career. She’s so different to what I imagined after learning about her from Ethan’s perspective, but then, I know it to be true that no two people have the same point of view on anything because we all carry different baggage in life that frames how we see things.
As Ethan guides me out of the hotel after the lunch, I say, “Gage said something odd to me today.”
He looks down at me. “Yeah?”
“He said that if he had to endure lies being posted about him on social media, he’d silence everyone like you are. What did he mean by that?”
Ethan stops walking, his gaze resting on me for the longest moment before he says, “He put me in touch with someone who digs into people’s lives. Finds the shit they’re trying to hide. We used that to get those assholes to take down those videos of us from Louisville. I also had Hayden hit them with lawsuits that’ll go nowhere but scare them a little, and rightfully fucking so. And we’ve done it with some other videos too.” At my wide eyes, he says with determination, “I won’t sit back and watch this shit, Miller. I get it that this is just how the world works now, and I’m not going after every video or story that’s posted about you, but fuck, everyone’s entitled to quiet enjoyment of their lives. If people get in your face while you’re off the clock and post nasty shit about that, you better believe I’ll go after it.”
I grip his jacket with both hands and pull him close. “You are absolutely the best man I know.” I’m so overwhelmed that he has done this for me that I can’t even figure out exactly what I want to say. All I come up with is, “I’m so glad I found myself a grandpa who refuses to just accept the way of the world now.”
His hand slides around my body to my ass. “At some point in this relationship, you’re gonna have to stop calling me grandpa. It’s fucking creepy when you think about it.”
“It’s entirely accurate, Black. I mean, you still haven’t figured out what that text of mine from yesterday meant.”
“Babe, give a man a break. I’m over here trying to wrap my head around secret message brackets, talking in capital letters, and asterisking words all over the damn place. Then you start talking about flag situations and it’s like my fucking mind explodes. Beige flags, red flags, green flags . . . How a guy’s supposed to make sense of any of this shit is beyond me.”
“This conversation is fast becoming a beige flag situation, just FYI.”
“Great to know, and if I ever figure that flag shit out, that statement will make so much more sense to me.”
I let his jacket go. “Are you going to be a grumblebum all night or are you going to do something useful with that mouth of yours?”
He takes hold of my hand, very firmly. “I’m going to do something useful with my hands, and hopefully I’ll be able to wait until we get home to do that.” He runs his eyes over my body. “This dress has been fucking with my dick all afternoon.”
“You say the sweetest things to me, Black.” It can’t be denied, though; I really like his crude way of saying some things.
“I told you up-front that I wasn’t the guy for you if you wanted flowery.”
“Ah, no,” I say as I try to keep up with his long, fast strides out of the hotel, “you told me that after you fucked me, which was after the up-front stage apparently.”
He gives me a look and we then proceed to banter our way to his condo at which point, he tells me to spread my legs because we’re spending the rest of the day working on his orgasm-delivering skills.
Screw flowery; I’m all about Blackery now.
28
Madeline
Life moves at a much slower pace after I pack some of my belongings and move them to New York. After weeks of hectic back-to-back interviews and appearances to help build my new brand that Judy and I are creating, that all eases. Tucker is out there being a dick and I think a lot of people are starting to see him in a new light, which means the negative publicity I was enduring has decreased. And Judy was right: people find other scandals to get invested in and they move on, forgetting the one they were just fixated on.
Once I’m in New York, I divide my time between songwriting, doing some PR, and spending time with Ethan, learning so much more about him and enjoying the kind of domestic life I’ve never had with a man. We do everyday couple things like taking in a movie, having date nights, enjoying lazy reading afternoons together, cooking together, and laughing a lot. Ethan snaps a million photos of me and I start writing songs that have pieces of him in them.
I also spend Tuesday nights having dinner with the Black family and it’s becoming a favorite part of my week.
Two weeks after I make the move, I wake on a Tuesday morning to Ethan cursing as he checks the time. “Fuck, I’m gonna be late for my shoot.” He throws the bed covers off and strides into the bathroom.
Ethan has gone back to doing what he loves for work: photography. He’s still consulting for the company he sold his app to, but after spending a lot of time with them initially, he now only has to work a few days a month with them. Last week, he opened his books for portrait photography for the first time in years and people are excited he’s back.
By the time I wander into the bathroom, he’s in the shower. I brush my teeth and then step into the shower, moving behind him and wrapping my arms around his body.
“Miller,” he growls, “I haven’t got time.”
I kiss his back, keeping my arms around him but letting one hand glide down his body toward his cock. “You have got time.”
He grasps my hand and stops it moving any lower. “Baby, I can’t afford to be late.” He turns in my embrace, looking down at me with both lust and frustration. “You need to get out of the shower.”
“Wow. I never imagined the day you’d boss me into leaving you alone.”
He groans and I see just how much he wishes he could say, “fuck it all” and push me back against the tiled wall.
“You absolutely have time,” I say and when he opens his mouth to argue, I silence him with a finger to his lips. “I don’t know what time you think your shoot is, but if you fuck me fast, you definitely have time.”
“Babe, my shoot is at nine. I don’t even have time for a five-minute fuck.”
“Without touching the idea of a five-minute fuck, which, you should make note of, I never want, your shoot is at ten.”
He looks truly frustrated with me now and it’s the first time he’s ever clenched his jaw with me. “Maddie, I think I know my own schedule.”
“Okay, Black, here’s your next girlfriend lesson: women know their man’s schedule better than their man does. We memorize that shit like it’s our own schedule. There’s this little thing you can do where you share your digital calendar with someone else, which I’ve done with yours. Every night, I note what you’ve got on the next day, so I know that your shoot does not start until ten today.”
He's stopped clenching his jaw and is eyeing me questioningly. “How the fuck do you share a calendar with someone?”
“Well, I mean, it’s hard to do if they have a password on their phone, but since you refuse to have any kind of security on your device and are more than happy for me to access it, I sent it to myself.” I pat his chest. “And look at this, you get two girlfriend lessons in one morning. Put a damn password on your phone.”
Before I can take another breath, he’s got me up against the tiled wall and his mouth on mine, and he’s kissing me with everything in him.
Our hands are everywhere.
Desperate.
Possessive.
Claiming.
Ethan brands me with his touch, and when he tears his mouth from mine, the searing hunger in his eyes continues to mark me as his. “Your smart mouth will get you in trouble one day, Miller.”
I dig my fingers into his skin. “Promise?”
Without answering me, he roughly grabs my hips and spins me to face the wall. His breath is hot on the back of my neck when he rasps, “I’m gonna do my best to make this longer than five minutes, but here’s your lesson for today: you wanna speak to me like that, you’re gonna get fucked fast and hard.”
It’s like my pussy has never met a man before with the way she reacts to that. At this point, I don’t care if he only fucks me for one minute, I just need him inside me. Now.
With my cheek pressed hard against the tiles, I moan. I couldn’t even stop myself from doing that if I wanted to.
“Fuck.” It’s practically a grunt that falls from his lips after my moan fills the bathroom. He reaches one hand down to my clit while his other one comes to my breast, and not in a gentle, loving way. His touch is as crude as his mouth is at times. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He kisses my neck, biting and sucking me in such a way that he may as well just stamp his name there, all the while rubbing my clit and continuing to be indecent with my breast.
I rock my hips and grind my pussy against his hand, which causes him to make obscenely masculine sounds as he bites me and presses his dick against my ass.
I vaguely think about reaching for his cock but the pleasure he’s delivering has my brain so scattered that I think I may have forgotten how to move my arm in order to do that. My body has completely taken over and I’m moving to the beat of Ethan, unable to focus on anything but that beat.
By the time he takes hold of my hips and thrusts inside me, I’m so high on pleasure that it seems impossible to feel a greater high. I should know better, though, because there is nothing in this world that feels better than having Ethan deep inside me.
He fucks me like he can’t get what he wants fast enough.
I’m not sure we’ve had sex this intense. This wild. This reckless.
It’s like Ethan’s lost his mind and is just taking, taking, taking.
And it may be the greatest sex of my life.
I want him to take everything from me that he wants.
Ravage me, wreck me, ruin me.
He can have it all.
His thrusts speed up and his breathing turns ragged.
“Fuck, Maddie,” he grunts as the sounds of our skin slapping together fills the bathroom. “Fuck.” His fingers dig into my skin painfully and oh so rudely, and my cheek gets forced harder against the wall.
In amongst all of that, I make so many filthy noises that are almost pornographic.
By the time we come, I’m a hot panting mess, desperate for release. Ethan leans into me afterward, resting against my back while he catches his breath.
“You should clench your jaw at me more often,” I say.
“What?” He kisses the nape of my neck, staying right where he is.
“You fuck me real good after you clench your jaw all angry like.”
I can’t see him, but by the way his body gently shakes, I think he’s shaking his head at me and silently laughing. Which kinda was my goal with the words I chose to string together for him.
He pulls out and turns me to face him, and yep, his eyes have that amused look in them. “I wasn’t angry.”
“Well, you were definitely frustrated with me. And you did clench your jaw.”
He swoops in and steals a rough kiss as his hand settles on my stomach. “And you had a smart mouth.” He traces his finger over my lips. “What time today do our calendars get in sync?”
