Ophelia and Harper shared a pointed look. Seemed like they were enjoying torturing their older brother. "It's time to admit it," Ophelia prodded. "Don't be embarrassed."
"What?" Mia asked. "Tell me!"
"It's Cinderella!"
His mouth dropped open. "It is not!" he roared, practically shooting out sparks of masculine irritation. "You're lying!"
The girls burst into giggles at the joke. Ethan still looked pissed off, shooting them a deadly glare, but Chloe was laughing too hard, and eventually Ethan shook his head. "Unbelievable," he muttered. "And I actually fell for it."
"It's The Lion King," Harper managed to say between giggles.
"What type of movie is it?" Mia asked curiously.
Ophelia swiped at her eyes. "It screams leadership. See, Simba loses his father early on in the movie and believes it's his fault. He spends the rest of his life trying to run from his guilt until he's faced with the truth--he had nothing to do with his father's death. He has to return home and save his home by becoming king."
Tingles crept down her spine. She made a mental note to rent the movie ASAP. It was the perfect fit for the proud, strong man beside her, who took the world on his shoulders and didn't give himself a break.
"Hey, can we show Mia her first Disney movie this week?" Chloe asked. "Since Hei Hei adores her, I thought she'd love Moana."
Ophelia clapped her hands. "Such a perfect choice! Yes, how about tomorrow night?"
Harper nodded with a grin. "I'm in. Been a long time. Mia?"
"I'm game."
"Ethan?" Ophelia asked.
He let out a long-suffering-male sigh. "Fine. But you need to make that special cheddar-cheese popcorn I like, or I'm out."
"Deal."
They helped clean up, and Chloe went to her room early to read and listen to music. Mia went upstairs to get her small overnight bag, trying not to blush when they said good night to Ethan's sisters and began walking toward the bungalow. "I feel like a teenager sneaking out with her boyfriend," she confessed, swinging his entwined hand.
"Me too. I catch a glimpse of you, and I'm ready to tumble you in the back seat of my car."
She snorted. "As if I'd let you mess up my hair."
He gave her a wicked look. "Already gave you a roll in the hay, princess."
"Be quiet, horse man."
He laughed and walked inside the house. Shifting his weight back and forth, she caught the faintest flicker of discomfort cross his features. She dropped her bag on the couch and turned to face him. "Okay, I've had enough. Pants off."
"Damn, you're insatiable, woman."
She cocked her head and glared. "You're in pain. I want to massage your leg and relieve some of the pressure."
"You don't have to." His voice flicked out hard and unyielding. She tamped down a sigh at the pride in this impossible male and how he hated to admit he was hurting. How he hated to show weakness.
"I want to, Ethan. Please let me."
He studied her face, then kicked off his boots. Keeping his gaze on her, he slowly pulled the belt from the loops and unbuckled it. A snap of the wrist released the button. The tab lowered tooth by tooth to reveal the line of bare skin that told her he was going commando. Then he shucked his jeans off, ripped the T-shirt off his chest, and faced her.
Holy hotness, Batman.
Her entire body was seeped in heat. Nipples straining against her blouse, she practically salivated over the gorgeous sexiness of the man before her. Golden-brown skin dusted with dark-red hair. Lean, solid muscle rippling with power. Legs braced apart, his heavy cock aroused, arrogance shimmered from his aura as he faced her, comfortable in his nakedness. Barely able to swallow, Mia fought to chop through the sudden fog of need that devoured her whole. Then those lips lifted in a hint of a smug grin, and she knew that he knew that she was helpless to resist him.
"Where do you want me?"
She tried to speak but let out a squeak. Then tried again. "On the bed."
His brow lifted, but he followed her instructions. He stretched out on his navy-blue comforter, bracing his head up with a few pillows. Arms propped behind his head, he regarded her under heavily lidded eyes.
Why did she suddenly feel like his prey?
She kicked off her heels and approached the bed. Sliding tentatively next to him, she extended his leg over her thighs, so his knee rested in her lap and she had access to his full limb. Dragging in a breath to relax her mind, she placed her fingers over his hot skin. His muscles jumped under her touch. Slowly, she began to guide her way downward, learning where his muscles were tight and knotted and where skin had been scraped so raw, there were no longer any nerve endings. "How often does it ache like this?" she asked.
"Depends on the weather and my activity. I've been pushing myself a bit, so that's why it flared up."
Mia studied the puckered skin and gouges where pins and screws had held bone together so he could walk. She worked her way down, massaging around and under the knee, taking her time. He sprawled back on the bed, eyes half-closed, and she made sure to watch his face for the slightest reaction to her various strokes. "I have to call Jonathan tomorrow and tell him about Chloe."
"A fair deal. You haven't seen that ragtag crew around anymore, right?"
"No, maybe they've decided to finally leave her alone. Chloe said she hasn't texted them back."
"Good. Do you think Lake will force her to go home?"
She frowned, her hands gaining strength as she pressed deeper into the massage. "I don't know. I'm going to do my best to help Chloe be heard, but the decision is his." Mia caught the tiniest wince around his eyes. There. She'd found the problematic spot. Her fingers danced around the sore muscle, taking her time. "How many operations did you have?" she asked curiously.
"Change of subject?"
"Yes."
He stirred. At least he seemed to be enjoying the massage. "Three."
"You mentioned you were lucky to be able to walk."
"Almost lost the leg. Shrapnel damaged blood vessels and nerves, so they did an IM surgery. Basically put a bunch of plates and screws in there. Then did it twice more."
"How many months were you in the hospital?"
"About a month, but then I was moved to rehab, so that was another few weeks. Damn, that feels good."
Pleasure skated over her--both from his praise and the amazing view of his naked body sprawled out for her enjoyment. "Are you happy you came home?"
"Not at first. I felt as if I returned home a loser."
Shock hit hard. She paused, staring at him. "How in any possibility imagined could you be a loser?"
He gave a half shrug. "It's a guilt thing. All mental. An important man died on my watch, and I'd looked him in the eye and promised I'd save him. Felt like a liar. Then my leg was so busted up, I'll never be able to work again in Special Forces. It was part of my identity--who I was. I had to find a new life for myself, so being back home under those circumstances was hard."
"And now?"
"Now, I'm glad. I forgot what it's like being around my sisters again and my childhood home. I forgot what it's like to live with people who care about important things and not designer dresses and movie premiers and who said what on Page Six."
"There's nothing wrong with designer dresses," she pointed out.
He grinned. "Agreed."
"You plan to stay here, then?"
"Yes. This is where I belong now. I can concentrate on the simple things in life again. Find some peace."
The way he spoke held no sympathy for himself, just a basic truth he'd accepted. Her heart slowly broke into pieces because he didn't seem to know how extraordinary he was.
"Did you ever see the movie Pretty Woman?" she suddenly asked.
He snorted. "Every man is forced to watch it eventually. Do you know how many dates I had who expected me to send her a red evening gown and diamonds and to take her to the fucking opera?"
She laughed. "Fine, I get it. Do you remember the pa
rt where she says it's easier to remember all the bad stuff than the good?"
"Yeah."
"Ethan, how many people did you save when you served?"
He stiffened. Opened his eyes and caught her with his gaze. She remained steady, refusing to buckle. This was important. She sensed the pain within him. Saw when his eyes got that distant look and sadness emanated from his figure. Even though he was human, he blamed himself for that one loss. It was a part of him she knew words couldn't change, but God how she wanted to soothe some of the ache.
"Why?"
"Because it matters. Every person that has a life because of you matters. Don't brush them off or forget because you lost one."
"I think I could've run faster."
The words bled out of him, and her heart clenched. Raw pain clawed at her insides, but she remained calm. Gently, she moved his leg from her lap and crawled up the bed until she knelt right next to him. She stroked his smooth cheek, traced the line of his lips, and rested her forehead against his. "I know, baby. But maybe you couldn't. Just don't cheapen what you did accomplish in the pursuit of perfection that isn't possible."
Shock filled his eyes. He jerked back, staring into her face with a desperation that had her leaning forward to kiss him. Sensing he was on the edge, she took the kiss deeper, her tongue ravaging his mouth in the role of aggressor, her nails digging sharply into his shoulders. With a low growl, he answered the call and slammed her back into the mattress, rolling over to pin her thighs wide open. He ripped her clothes from her body and fitted himself with a condom. She sank her teeth into his lower lip with pure greed and thrust up, wrapping her ankles around his hips at the same time she slammed her palms on his ass to force him down.
He drove into her in one violent plunge.
She gasped. His dick filled her, hot and hard and throbbing with demand, taking up all the empty spaces inside.
"Fuck me," she growled in his ear.
With a low roar, he grasped her hips, slid out, and rammed deeper, ripping a cry from her throat. There was nowhere to hide, and a flicker of fear rose up--the fear he'd swallow her whole--but when she tried to retreat, it was too late.
His naked body loomed over her like an ancient sex god bent on dominance. His fingers thrummed her pulsing clit while his gaze locked on hers, drinking in every one of her moans and gasps as if they belonged to him. And still he hammered inside her, over and over, never letting up the pace while he teased and flicked and stroked the hard nub. Shoved to the edge of climax, he held her there ruthlessly, every slam of his hips and his dick taking her further. She fought wildly, for climax, for retreat, for safety, but he wouldn't allow her.
"All of it," he commanded, his thumb pressing down while he angled his hips to thrust deeper, hitting that shimmering, magical spot that drove her mad. "You took us here. Now I'm going to fuck you until you scream my name and give me everything you have."
"Ethan, please."
"More. Yes, like that, you're so wet and hot, take all of me. Now, Mia."
She gave up, gave in, and gave it all to him.
With one last plunge, he hurled her over the edge and she came. His shout of satisfaction echoed dimly in her ears. Her body released as wave after wave of pleasure broke through her. She sobbed and called his name, clinging to him as her vision faded and she was helpless to do anything but ride out the brutal ecstasy of her unending climax.
They collapsed on the bed, panting, skin damp with sweat. He was still inside her as he rolled to the side, pinning her against him. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, Mia looked into his face.
"I love you."
He stroked her tangled hair back. "I love you, too."
She searched his face, found the truth, and snuggled deeper into his embrace. Then slept.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mia clicked off her phone and groaned at the stack of notes in front of her.
One week left.
How had she managed to fall in love in just a few weeks?
Of course, Ethan Bishop was no ordinary man. She remembered Priscilla's words and fought the urge to text her with an "SOS" sign. Since the night they'd confessed their feelings, they hadn't talked about it. It was as if both of them were afraid to bring in reality and the obstacles between them.
She lived in the city. He belonged here.
Yes, they could do long distance, but would it eventually break them? With her demanding schedule, could they make it work? And more important, Ethan might not be thinking of a future between them. Saying you loved someone didn't guarantee anything.
She had learned that hard lesson a while ago.
Tonight, she'd insist they have a long talk about their expectations and if there was something more for them past the summer. And of course, Jonathan would arrive tomorrow. After he heard about Chloe's problems with her so-called friends, the vandalism, and running out on the check, he'd flipped. He'd informed his daughter he'd enrolled her at NYU and would be picking her up to come home.
She had refused.
Mia was stuck in the middle. She wasn't part of the family, but her gut drove her to back up Chloe and help get her a second chance. Once her father got elected, her world was going to change yet again. She didn't think it would be fair to the girl to start new again when she'd just begun to blossom.
Well, it was no good brooding about it until Jonathan arrived. She left the comfort of air-conditioning, deciding to head to the stables. Time was running out, and she wanted to enjoy every moment with both Chloe and Ethan. She had just reached the front porch when a familiar black sports car careened into the parking lot, spitting out gravel in its wake.
Ah, crap.
She watched them approach. Practically vibrating with hostility, they stopped a few feet from her. "Chloe here?" the pink-haired girl asked.
"No. She's working."
The kids shared a glance. One of the boys sneered. "You been keeping her locked up for slave labor?" he challenged, puffing up his scrawny chest. His tank proclaimed FUCK OFF.
Real nice.
"Actually, Chloe doesn't want to hang out with you any longer. You probably knew that since she hasn't been texting you back."
"You're lying. We're her friends. We protect her from bullshit, like adults who don't know a thing."
"Friends, huh? Must be nice to have someone in your group who takes the blame when you screw up. I know about the vandalism of the professor's car. I know about the diner. And I know you had the gall to deface this property. My advice to you is take off, don't look back, and leave Chloe alone."
The taller guy--she thought it was Anthony--smirked and shook his head. His gaze dragged over her body, setting off creepy vibes. "You can't tell us what to do, bitch. Mind your own business, and let Chloe make her own decisions."
Holy hell, they were only around twenty-one, twenty-two years old. If no one intervened, who knows what they'd be doing next? The girl with the pink hair looked back and forth, a touch of nervousness emanating from her figure. Mia tried to direct her next words at the young girl, who still had a shot to break from the assholes. What was her name? Yes. Theresa.
"Why are you with them, Theresa?" she asked softly. The girl's dark eyes flickered with a mix of emotions. "They're using you, too, and they won't think twice about throwing you up for bait when shit goes down."
"No, they wouldn't," she said shakily. "You don't know them."
"Yes, I do. Because at one point, we've all been vulnerable, looking for acceptance or someone who makes you feel decent about yourself. But these guys are a mirage. You're stronger than that."
"Bitch, you got a mouth on you!" the other guy growled, moving forward. "I think you need to be taught a lesson. Easy enough to shut you up."
She kept talking. "You committed a crime. We haven't pressed charges yet, but that will come next if you show your face around here or bother Chloe again. Understand?"
"The only thing you're gonna understand is how loud you're gonna beg for mercy."
/>
"Not as loud as you are, asshole."
Ethan stepped behind him, his phone casually held in his hand. Chloe was behind him, face pale and sickly.
"Chloe! About time, girl, now tell them you're with us," Anthony yelled.
Chloe shook her head and stayed by Ethan's side. "Not anymore," she managed to say in a firm tone. "I don't want to hang out with you. I told you by text and on the phone, I don't want you bothering me anymore."
"After all we done for you?" the pink-haired girl asked. "You ditching us?"
"Theresa, you vandalized my professor's car and let me take the blame! You threatened me at Bea's Diner and trashed the barn where I work. I'm done. You've never been my friends, and I want you out of here."
Ethan closed the distance until he loomed over the group. They tried to stand their ground, but it was obvious from the flicker of fear on their faces they knew they'd gone too far.
"Here's how it's gonna be," Ethan said in a soft, menacing whisper. "I don't beat the shit out of you today, and you do me a few favors: One, you never try to speak to or see Chloe again. Two, you stay out of my town and the local businesses here, or I'll know about it. I just got your threats on video, and we have you on camera for destruction of property. I'll keep both of these gems handy if I hear of you making any further trouble. Now, nod if you understand me."
Eyes wide, bravado temporarily forgotten under the leashed rage of the man before them, all three nodded.
"And don't think after a few beers and bruised egos you can come back to my place and try to wreak revenge. 'Cause I will bury you, and you'll spend the next few years making real intimate friends with your prison mates. Now get the hell off my land."
Without a word, they shot off into the car and disappeared. Ethan turned toward Chloe and gripped her arms. The girl's body shook. "Sweetheart, are you okay?"
Chloe nodded. "Yes. Thank you. I've never seen anyone stand up for me like that."
Mia walked toward the girl and gave her a hug. "That's what real friends do for each other," she said. "I think they wet their pants once Ethan threatened them."
Chloe laughed. "Yeah, that was pretty badass. And I heard you, too, Mia. Thanks for believing in me. Thanks for everything this summer."
The words were sweet to her ears, and she shared a smile with Ethan over the girl's head. "You're welcome."
"Why don't you head inside and take a break, Chloe?"