Thick & Thin (Thin Love, #3)(31)



“You seemed to enjoy it.”

“Of course I did!” His voice was a fierce whisper. When I only stared back at him, Ethan stepped closer, the tight muscles around his mouth relaxing. “There isn’t anything in this world that I enjoy more than making love to you, but not here. Not with my staff and clients just on the other side of that door.”

He continued to straighten himself while glancing at me as though I were a bomb he expected to explode. But I didn’t go off, not like I could have. Instead I walked over to the outer windows, looking into the blue sky, scanning the street below, a little embarrassed that I’d acted so common. I closed my eyes, head shaking at my stupidity.

As much as I resented recalling it, a memory came to me, several in fact. Habits that Ransom and I had, places we’d find when the moment was never right. We’d spent the first year of our relationship f*cking on every conceivable surface of my tiny apartment, in his Mustang, in the pool house at his folks’ place. That didn’t change. It was supposed to. As we got older and matured, we were supposed to learn self-control. We were supposed to maintain some semblance of couth. We weren’t supposed to have sex in the Dolphins locker room or on a beach in Maui just behind a black cliff rock. But, God we did. Years we were together and up until that last year before I left him, we still hadn’t been able to keep our hands from each other. But that wasn’t enough, was it? And it wasn’t something rational adults did either.

Ethan stepped behind me, not touching me but I saw his expression, the wrinkle deepening in the corner of his eyes as he watched me. He was confused, a little taken aback by my behavior, I was sure.

“Aly. Talk to me,” he prompted, holding me against his chest.

“I honestly was just trying to be spontaneous.”

I felt him nod as he rested his chin on the top of my head. “Well, I appreciate the gesture, baby.” Ethan kissed my neck, his mouth lingering a little on my shoulder. “But in the office? Aly, I can’t have that, much as I may want it.”

“Do you though?” The question just came to me, was likely some afterthought that settled in my mind when I thought of all the times Ransom and I found even a half way private spot to be together.

“What? Of course I do.” He held my face then, keeping me perfectly still as he gave me a chaste kiss. “Just not in the middle of the day in my office.” The slip of one side of his mouth and Ethan’s smile shook. “I’ve worked so hard to build a reputation. I can’t have anything jeopardizing that. No matter how beautiful the temptation is.” His smile then was dazzling and he took a moment to watch my face, his gaze moving to my forehead, across my cheeks until it came back to my eyes. “Besides, from that mind blowing, one-time experience, I know that sex with you should never be quick.” Ethan pulled me close, holding me at the waist as he leaned me against the window. “I’m the lucky bastard that gets to be with you and I don’t take that lightly.” He kissed me, rubbing his mouth along my jaw. “Every time I’m with you, I want to take my time. I want to taste all of your skin and fill you up with everything I have.” He kissed me, patting my ass as though the discussion was over. “We can finish this up tonight…shit. No we can’t either.”

Ethan stepped back, going to his desk to grab his phone and I followed him, waiting for him to continue. But that phone caught his attention and wouldn’t let go. “You were saying?”

He managed a quick glance at me, but that’s all I got. “I was going to let you know, I have to work late tonight. Client meeting that might go on for a while and then Friday I’ll be off to New York.”

“When are you leaving on Friday?”

Another glance and his fingers moved quickly over the keys. “Not til late that afternoon. Why?”

“Just…going to miss you.”

He leaned over his desk, giving me a kiss that lingered for as long as his cell was silent, but then another chirp sounded and Ethan nodded at me. “I’m sorry, baby, but I really am swamped.”

“No problem,” I told him, squeezing his hand before I headed for his door. I’d barely managed to walk through the threshold when two of his impatient clerks bee-lined for Ethan’s desk. One glance over my shoulder and I caught the smallest glimpse of him before the door closed completely. Ethan hadn’t even looked up from his phone.



The Cowboys had beaten the Dolphins on their own field. It was one more loss that had Ransom retreating to his small media room in our three-bedroom condo to review his tapes and figure out, yet again, what he’d been doing wrong during the game.

He completely ignored the concussion he’d gotten when the Cowboys offense blocked his tackle. He’d gotten hit so hard this time that he hadn't moved a muscle for the longest time, lay sprawled on that field looking up, not seeing his teammates or the physicians as they examined him. He’d been unresponsive for the longest three minutes of my life.

He’d punished himself for a week, obsessing about his plays, his blocks, the blitz that he didn’t manage and that damn tackle. Not once did he seem remotely concerned about the concussion. Around the fourth day, post injury, I realized he’d never take this seriously, not until it was too late.

I couldn’t do it. Not a second longer. Not when he disregarded my worry yet again.

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