Chapter 3

Molly yelped and held on to his shoulder. It was enough to give Ethan the upper hand. Her taste was wild cherries and salt. The hint of the ocean and woman lured him deeper until he fused his tongue inside her slit.

He didn’t ever want to stop tasting her.

He drank her down and drove two fingers inside of her to open her up.

He wanted more.

Needed more.

Longed to take her taste and make it his own. To switch up her chemistry until there was never a doubt he was supposed to be there.

He fumbled at the buckle of his belt and jerked his zipper down with his other hand to give himself some relief. He’d been so focused on her that he groaned against her cunt when his dick got room to shift and expand.

It wanted inside of her.

And he was desperate to make that happen.

Her thighs trembled and her fingers fisted into his hair. Her breathy little groans were gearing up.

As if it was one of the long notes she held on stage, she was opening up for him in every way.

He jerked her dress down until it pooled in front of him. He swiped his thumb through the swollen satin of her and stared up at her. “So fucking beautiful.”

She was a siren.

Her hair snapped around her face. The tide was coming in and the air and sea were vying for the beach’s attention.

Just like this woman.

The stage and her career were everything to her. He knew that, could read it on every determined look she gave to the camera, but right now she was his.

And he was going to remind her that the stage wasn’t the only thing she needed.

She didn’t try to cover up. She just stood there and let him drink her in. And when she lifted her leg to drape it over his shoulder, he grinned up at her.

Fuck, yes.

He watched her as he ate at her. As he swallowed all she offered. He licked her until his lips were chapped, and her essence ran down his chin to drip onto his chest.

He watched as she went over again. With her head flung back and her chest heaving, she was a sight to behold. She swept her hands over her belly and up to cup her breasts before finally lifting to her hair. Her heel dug into his back and she swayed, but he held on to her ass and tugged her closer.

Offered her everything.

And when her groan turned into a throaty moan ending in his name, he finally swung her leg off his shoulder and stood, lifting her into his arms.

He crashed back down onto the stone bench with her straddling his thighs before he wrapped his hand around his cock. Christ, it throbbed under his palm.

“Condom,” she said on a ragged breath.

“Condom.” He nodded and flipped out his wallet.

She tore through it and pushed his hands away from her with shaking fingers. “No. My turn.”

He laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”

She took him in hand, her grip sure and not the least bit fumbling.

“Done this before?”

“I’m no virgin.” Her chin went up.

“Thank fuck.”

Her mouth went slack for a moment before it firmed and she laughed. She ripped open the condom and rolled it over him with a sureness that made him hiss.

She shifted him against her slick pussy and he groaned at the heat of her. He wanted that burn, prepared for the scars. Because there was no doubt she would scar him.

And still he chased it. Chased her.

He lifted his hips as she settled down and they hummed together as she took all of him. When she winced slightly, he stopped. 


“Between the orgasms and the fact it’s been a hot minute since I’ve done this…yeah. One sec.”

He held his breath and resisted the urge to drive into her again and again. To ease the ache he’d been living with for months now.

No one could sate it.

He wasn’t a monk—hell, he’d tried to fuck her out of his system—but she was the only one who could ease the craving.

She moved over him.

Her hips were as fluid as the ocean behind her. The siren was back and she was going to leave him strewn and bloody over the rocks.

But just as those sailors did, he was going to answer her call.

He tipped his hips so she slid forward and her pelvis ground into his. His name was a prayer on her lips.

The sweet murmur built like a crescendo to a song. Then the moan turned into a plea. “More.” Her eyes were slits, and out of focus. She circled her hips and whimpered.

He covered her mouth, then drove up until the entire length of him was buried inside her. God, he wanted to stay there—right then, he wanted nothing more than to live inside her perfect warmth—but he’d wanted her for far too long. His cock, his brain, his fucking spine ached to get some sort of relief. 

Just as swiftly, he retreated. When her mouth opened and a moan escaped, he knew that control she guarded at all costs was going to be his.

Every part of her was.

The slap of their skin and her wild sounds were his navigation. He swallowed her screams and chained his arms around her back as he fucked her with the furious need that had been locked inside him for what felt like centuries.

He buried his face in her soft breasts as he chased the chaos and surrendered to her. His own cry was hoarse and desperate, but he didn’t have an ounce of control left.


They were a disaster in the making, but Jesus, his brain was empty for the first time in months.

She was panting and shaking over him. He dragged her closer even as she tried to wiggle free.

He rested his cheek against her chest for a moment and took stock. Her heart roared under his ear, and her skin was slick with sweat and sea spray.

His own suit was wilted, thanks to the heavy air and the mind-bending fuck.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

She stiffened. “I need to get dressed. One of us is naked here, Professor.”


She jerked back. “You can say your name as sharply as you like, but I’m only stating fact.”

“No, you’re distancing.”

“What are you, a shrink?” She slipped away and this time he let her.

It was too much. He understood the need to scrabble back and protect. His skin had been practically flayed off from the crazy that had overtaken them.

But he’d needed it just as badly as she did. Okay, he was pretty sure no one needed it more than the woman in front of him. Sexually, she was so far past repressed, she had created a whole new definition.

Especially since she obviously wasn’t a stranger to sex. But holy Zeus, she’d been tight. Enough that she’d scrambled his damn brain for the first five seconds after she sank down around him.

He removed the condom, then tucked it into his pocket square and shoved it into his pants pocket. She stepped into her dress and shimmied it up her hips. The remaining scrap of lace dropped to the stone path.

Well, fuck. He’d shredded her panties pretty throughly.

She bent to retrieve it but he beat her to it.

“Can I have that?”

“No, you may not.”

She tilted her head. “Correcting me like that and you don’t want me to call you Professor?” She held out her hand. “Give them to me. I don’t want you doing something pervy with them.”

He held them behind his back, out of her reach. “What, like wrapping them around my dick tomorrow night when I think about this again?”

She swallowed. Her huge eyes widened and her pulse fluttered at the side of her neck. She liked that idea.

“Or would you rather I video chat with you while I do it?”

She sucked in a breath. “No.”

He crowded in on her. “Why not? ”

“Because this is a one and done thing, Prof—Ethan.” She lifted her chin. “You scratched an itch.”

“Honey, we’re not nearly scratched. You barely left a heel mark in my back.”

It was too dark for him to see if she was blushing or not, but based on how her gaze drifted everywhere but his face, he could infer.

“I appreciate that we could steal away for a little bit, but that’s all this is. Too much champagne, too hot, too…just too much coupling in there.” She shrugged. “Itch.”

“First of all, you’re stone cold sober. So am I. And second of all, you’ve been brave as hell since I met you. Don’t hide behind niceties now.”

She fisted her hands at her sides. “Then I guess the itch still stands. I knew you could provide.”

The slap was designed to hurt, but he’d never been ashamed of sex. Never would be. He slid his arm around her lower back and dragged her into him. “I’ll provide whenever you need me to.”

She stiffened. “Not necessary.”

“If I reached under this skirt, I’d find you wet.”

“Leftovers from before.”

He leaned in and brushed her nose with his. “That tiny pearl-sized clit is tight as hell right now.” He flicked his tongue over the divot in her upper lip. “I’ve tasted it, and I’m going to do so again.” When she tried to open her mouth, he held up a finger between them. “Don’t waste your breath.”

“This might work with the coeds, but not me.”

“I don’t need to use moves on you. I’m just speaking truth. We’re good together. We fit. There’s no need to cut things off.”

“You’re a distraction. I don’t do distractions.”

That one sliced a bit, but he could practically taste the deflection. Right now, it was better to let her go. He could be patient when the right incentive was involved.

She was nothing but incentive as far as he was concerned. 

He stepped back. Immediately, he wanted to reach out for her, but he didn’t.

She whirled and her skirts flared out as she darted back onto the path toward the lights of the party.

To her band and her friends.

To safety. 



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