The next two weeks are filled with kisses and stolen glances and late-night phone calls. Some days are frustrating because he's in a bad mood, but I'm able to deal with him the same way I always have. My ignoring him works even better now because he doesn't hide the fact that he wants to be with me. He's just as desperate to be with me as I am to be with him, in private at least.
Jessica remains the only person who knows but I'll gladly give him time. We spend a lot of time together, and in private, he's always touching me or kissing me. In public, well, he spends a lot of his time glaring at people, but that isn't really that unusual for him.
He took me out for supper last night, which was interesting. He insisted on holding my hand in public when I told him he didn't have to.
"Business or pleasure?" the hostess asked curiously as she showed us to our seats.
"I'm holding his hand. Do most business associates come in here holding hands?" Ethan asked rudely.
I shot him a glare and squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry," I apologized to her, "it's our first public date. He's a little nervous."
She offered a gracious smile. "I understand."
"Really? You're a lesbian?"
I pulled Ethan to a halt and forced him to face me. "Knock it off," I warned him. He pouted his bottom lip out, and I huffed at him. "Ethan, I'm serious. You either stop being an asshole, or I go home."
"Fine," he groaned.
He surprised me by leaning in and pecking me on the lips. No one was really paying attention besides the hostess, but still, shit, he kissed me in public! He turned to the woman and offered her a sincere apology.
We took our seats and Ethan continued to hold my hand on top of the table. Our waiter showed up fairly quickly, and he was a jerk.
He was short with us, and he barely came back to our table at all, and it pissed Ethan off.
"I want a new server," he hissed to me. I offered him a tight smile.
It was pretty obvious that the server was being prejudiced against us, because we could see him clear as day being Mr. Proper two tables over with a 'conventional' couple.
When we were finished with our meal and the waiter brought our check, dropping it on the table without a word, Ethan lost his temper.
"Do you have a problem?" he asked the man.
"No, sir," he replied, obviously through gritted teeth.
"Really? Because I think you have a problem," Ethan said, pushing the sleeves of his shirt up his arms.
"Ethan, just let it go," I pleaded.
"Am I not allowed to bring my boyfriend out to dinner? Is that your problem?" Ethan demanded.
"No, sir," he repeated, once again, not sounding very honest.
"That's not your problem? What is it then, hmm? Are you jealous that you're not the one here with my boyfriend?"
The waiter clenched his fists and looked ready to wail on Ethan. I spotted the hostess that showed us in a few tables over and she caught my eye, a look of alarm flashing across her face once she realized there was a situation. She quickly came over and ushered the waiter off, offering us a complimentary meal.
"Don't want your prejudiced charity. Think you can shut me up with a free meal. Gonna sue this place," he rambled on and on, mostly to himself.
"Ethan," I interrupted him. "This is how it is. People are assholes, you just have to learn to ignore it. I know he offended you but—"
"Offended me? Are you kidding? He ruined our first date!"
Ethan continued to be in a bad mood the rest of the night. He ranted and raved about injustice and life not being fair and basically everything else he couldn't change. It was sweet, especially considering the way he kissed me goodnight and told me how sorry he was that he let that asshole ruin our night together.
I wanted to give him a blowjob for being so adorable.
I didn't though. He left me at my doorstep, and we slept across town from each other, like we normally did. Sometimes I would spend the night in one of the many Bennett beds, but never his.
Tonight, I insist we just order pizza in, and he lets me. The food goes quickly and like usual, the conversation is effortless. There are many laughs and some kisses, and at one point he sucks marinara sauce off of my finger and I nearly explode.
I tell him I should go, and he kisses me and makes fun of my garlic breath and I shove him away, just so he'll come crawling back to me. He does, of course, and he kisses me more, and more, and more. He also does his new favorite thing, which is teasing my nipples through my shirt, because he's just discovered that I get a little vocal when he does so.
He's trying to fight a smile while I'm trying to stifle my sighs and whimpers as he continues to lightly tease me. Neither of us is succeeding and he ends up laughing into my mouth which ruins the mood a little bit. But only a little bit—laughing is good, it means he's comfortable. I just don't like that he's laughing at me.
"I have to go," I insist. I stand up, only to be pulled right back down.
"No, you don't," he contends.
"I do. I need to take a shower and sleep, you know, human stuff."
"For the millionth time, there are like seven different showers here, find your favorite. And you can sleep here, damn it. I don't have any classes or work tomorrow, so please, just stay so I can see you right away in the morning?"
That's how I ended up in Ethan's bedroom in nothing but a towel and a blush. He is currently searching for a pair of his underwear for me to wear. His hair is dripping wet from his own recent shower and he's only wearing a pair of boxer-briefs. I really want to just drop the towel.
"Here," he says.
I take the underwear from him, only to discover they are a pair of black Emporio Armani briefs. I might as well just drop the damn towel for all they are going to leave to the imagination. Ethan smirks when I roll my eyes and start walking to his bathroom to change.
"Is this toothbrush for me?" I ask. There is one sitting on the counter, and one in his toothbrush holder.
"Yes," he answers. "Use lots of toothpaste, your mouth tastes like an old piece of pizza."
"Such a charmer," I mumble to myself, then grin because I can't even believe how much I love him. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and try to squash the smile by shoving the toothbrush in my mouth. It doesn't work.
I drop my towel into his laundry basket and check myself out in his mirror while I brush my teeth. I'm looking pretty tan because of the amount of time I spend in his pool or just lounging in the sun with him, and we spend a couple hours a week working out together, so I'm looking pretty fit too. I've just man-scaped in case anything was to progress with us, so I'm good in the sex tool department as well. My dick is semi-hard, as it seems to be the majority of the time I'm around Ethan. When I'm not sporting a semi, I'm sporting a raging hard-on. I'm always trying to hide my boners these days, but Ethan seems to have a sixth sense and knows every time I get a woody. He's always right there as soon as I'm hard and while I'm desperately trying not to rub my cock all over him like an oversexed, horny bastard—though I am an oversexed, horny bastard. He's doing everything in his power to drive me crazy.
The nipple rubs, the fingers trailing down my back, the way he just moans when I lick that spot on his neck.
Oh, well, hello there, Mr. Hard Cock, I haven't seen you in a whole ten minutes.
I swear, the only reason I haven't developed the world's worst medical case of blue balls is because I masturbate practically religiously.
I sigh and pull the underwear that Ethan gave me on, groaning when I actually have to stuff my dick into them. He better enjoy the show.
I catch Ethan with his hand in his hair when I open the door and immediately freeze; I know damn well that he only does that when he's nervous. He pretends not to notice, or he just doesn't notice, and he walks over to me, his lips pursed in a slightly amused way. Or smug. Probably smug. Bastard.
He is still only wearing underwear and I want so badly just to touch. Everywhere. His perfect shoulders, and his sexy chest, his adorable, little pink nipples, every hill and valley of his defined abs, his cute belly button, and definitely, definitely the hot cum gutters. Seriously, no one should get a 'V' so perfect.
I follow his thin happy trail with my eyes, and it leads right to the treasure—gold never looked so good. He's hard and straining against the tight material of his boxer-briefs and I very nearly moan at the sight.
Ethan doesn't stop until he's pressed right up against me. He kisses me quite aggressively, demanding tongue almost immediately. I'm rewarded with a moan when I allow him entrance. He pulls back with a smile.
"Much better," he says.
I shake my head at him and lean in to peck his lips. "Goodnight," I say.
"Un-mm," he replies, pulling me in for another kiss.
While he's kissing me, he starts to walk backwards, bringing me with him. When we are near his bed, he pulls away from me. He grabs his comforter and throws it back.
"In," he demands.
"What?" I ask. "Ethan..."
He raises his eyebrows. "In," he repeats firmly.
Fine. I crawl into his bed, all the way over to the opposite side than what he's offered to me, and he jumps in after me. He turns off the lamp by the bed and whispers, "Goodnight."
"Night," I whisper back.
It takes me a long time to even relax enough to close my eyes, but even with my eyes closed, I can't fall asleep. All I can hear is Ethan's quiet breathing and all I can think about is the fact that he's in the same bed as me. Both of us are basically naked, in bed. I think I'm going to have a panic attack.
About an hour after he turned the lights off, I hear him whisper, "You awake?"
"Yeah," I reply.
The light flips back on, and it's blindingly bright. I can't see much besides white for a few seconds while my eyes adjust, and by the time they do, Ethan is hovering over me. He lowers his mouth to mine, and I moan right off the bat.
Christ, I'm wound tight.
His mouth presses harder against mine, his tongue teasing along my lips. His hand starts on my shoulder and quickly moves down my arm, then back up the inside, stopping where his thumb can circle my nipple. Which he does. And I moan into his mouth. Then he slides his whole palm over my pec, and I moan louder.
His mouth breaks away. "Don't you dare laugh at me," I warn.
He does so regardless. I snap my eyes open to glare, but the glare stops dead when I find his eyes. They are dark, and so, so green. Wanting, and happy, and filled with lust.
I grab his hair and pull him back to my mouth, more frantic now than I really should be, for his sake. I'm not supposed to be pushing, but he's driving me crazy.
My tongue pushes and swirls with his and his fingers never stop teasing my nipples. I feel him start to shift and I think he's going to pull away, so I move my hands to let him, but he doesn't. He moves closer. Way closer. He moves right on top of me. I can feel his cock. With my cock. They're touching. Really meeting for the first time. And I'd be lying if I said my cock wasn't the happiest cock on the block.
It feels so good, I shove my hips up, wanting more, and getting it with the friction of our cocks rubbing together through our underwear. I moan into his mouth and pull him closer, never wanting this to stop, and wanting more at the same time. He pinches my nipple and I thrust up into him again, this time catching his moan with my lips.
Oh, God. It feels so good. Well, not really, because it's dry humping and the stupid fabric of the underwear is rough and I'd prefer skin, but I'm not complaining. It still feels so good.
One of my hands slides down from Ethan's hair to press into his lower back, bringing him even closer to me. I rock and he shifts and we both slide, making friction, and we moan together. He shifts again and I rock and the rhythm clicks. Soon, we're both shifting and rocking without pause, moaning, humping, grinding, and getting right where we want to be. He gives and I take, and I want more. I move my hand just a little lower and press just a little harder and he gives, grinding into me. I'm shaking and panting, and I can't take much more, I'm not going to last at all.
It's Ethan, he's fucking me right now. It's only dry humping, but it's just like fucking. We move together, we both get pleasure. Oh my God.
I have to break away from his mouth to moan. I can't breathe. I push my head back and this guttural groan comes out of my mouth and I'm almost embarrassed, but he's humping me harder and making more sound than I am.
"So close," he grunts.
"Oh God, I'm gonna come," I moan.
His mouth moves to my neck and he bites down lightly, moaning into my skin. His perfect rhythm breaks and I shove my hand into his back, pressing hard because I can't think straight enough right now to realize that it probably hurts.
Through the thin material separating us, I feel him twitch and he bites down on my neck. His hips start to jerk and I lose it, because I know he's cumming right now.
"Ethan," I call.
My body arches up into his, so hard I think I'm lifting both of us off of the bed. I chant his name like an idiot, but I can't care, not when I can feel the wet seeping through his underwear and into mine. My cock is sliding against his as we both continue clumsily pushing into each other, it's just too much.
The orgasm seems to last forever, and the blink of an eye at the same time. It's intense, more intense than I can remember an orgasm being—especially a dry humping orgasm.
But it's Ethan, everything is more intense with Ethan. The sky is more blue, kissing is more fun, orgasms are...indefinable.
"Holy shit," I moan once my hips stop rocking.
I collapse into the bed with a sigh and Ethan breaths heavily from atop me.
"Jasp-uhhn."
I laugh and roll us over, delirious on the orgasm high. I kiss him like nothing else at all matters, and at that moment, it doesn't.