Loving Ean (The Fae Guard Book 2) (7 page)

“Holy fuck! Damn, baby. Your pussy is so wet and tight, I’m in fucking heaven.” I’m beyond all rational thought and I slam into her again and again, harder and harder. She is still sensitive from her orgasm so she immediately starts to climb back up, reaching for release. Her legs are wrapped around my hips, her hands clenching at the table ledge, her pussy strangling my cock. I want to be deeper. I pull out (ignoring her rather loud protests,) pry her fingers away then grip her arms, drag her up, remove her legs from my waist and help her off of the table. Swiftly, I spin her around and bend her over the table.

“Spread your arms out, baby. Keep your chest on the table and tilt your pussy up for me.” Her breath hisses out when her naked tits hit the cool wood, but it quickly turns to a moan when I grasp her hips and crash back inside of her, bottoming out.

“Yes! Ean, fuck me just like that!” Her words are like gasoline and I can already feel the tingling in my lower spine as my balls tighten, ready to explode. I leave all finesse behind and pound into her like a man possessed.

“You want it hard?” Her answer is to scream on my next thrust. “That’s right, baby. Take it. Take me deep. Fuck!” I’m seconds away from losing it but I force myself to hold on until her walls close around me, suctioning my cock, making it hard to pull out and sink back in. She’s fighting it, trying to prolong it, but I’m going to come and I need her to reach it first.

“Now, Laila!” I command and punctuate my demand with a hard slap on her ass. She shatters, screaming my name and shaking from her core. My orgasm spirals through me and I explode; jets of hot come filling the condom. I come so hard, my knees go weak and I have to plant a hand on the table to keep my balance. Rivulets of sweat are running down my face and back, my breathing harsh as I gasp for oxygen. “Holy shit, baby.” I pant, “That was hot as hell.” Laila is silent as she lays boneless on the table. Her lack of response worries me, prompting me to reach for her head and turn it to the side, pulling her hair out of the way so that I can see her face. “Baby? Are you all right?” Her face looks drowsy and sated causing my concern to recede.

Laila sighs. “I think you killed me, Ean.” The corners of her mouth rise and I chuckle at her words. I pull out and grin at her mewl of displeasure. There is a separate bathroom for this space, (
thank fuck)
and I head toward it to take care of the condom. After disposing of it and washing my hands, I return to the room and stop as I look around. Laila is up off the table, straightening her clothes, and I frown as I take in what just happened.

Shit! Shit! Shit!
Not only did I just fuck Laila, I did it in the back of a fucking bar, on a fucking table.
Nice going, asshole.
I never even took off any of our clothes. Well, except for the pathetic excuse for panties she was wearing. I push that thought out of my head before it stirs my dick into action.
Too late.

When Laila finishes, she turns and sees me standing at a distance. She smiles, but it falls when I don’t return the sentiment. Her eyes fill with hurt and I desperately want to go to her and wrap her up in my arms, to take the hurt away. It would only make this worse, so I stay rooted to my spot, and wipe all expression from my face.

She watches me shut down and her green eyes turn hard, the color becoming almost gray. Her back shoots up ramrod straight and she meets my blank stare. “This doesn’t change anything, does it?” It’s a question but it comes out like a statement.

“I’m sorry, Laila. This shouldn’t have happened. Especially not here, you deserve better than being fucked in the back of a bar, and better than me. I treated you like a passing hookup.” I scrub my face with my hands. “This shouldn’t have happened.” I repeat, regret seeping into my tone.

Laila marches over to me and firmly grasps my chin, bringing me down to her level. “You need to let me down off of this fucking pedestal, Ean. I’m not a China doll. I won’t break, and the sooner you realize that, the more likely it is I’ll still be around.” Letting me go, she spins on her heel and stalks toward the door. Before she crosses the threshold, she throws a parting thought my way. “Your regret is misplaced, Ean. You should be regretting how you tarnished this, instead of the fact that it happened. I have no regrets.” Without another glance my way, she leaves, taking my heart with her, leaving me an empty shell.

HOW IN THE WORLD
did I fall in love with such a jackass?

I toss my purse on my bed and take off my clothes as I make my way to the bathroom. I turn on the shower and while the water is heating up, I face the mirror and study myself. Just great. My hair is a wild mess, my lips are swollen and pink, and my nipples are red and surrounded by scruff marks. I’ve got that “freshly fucked” look.

No wonder Brannon had been giving me strange looks on the way home. I’d gone to the bar with him, so I needed him to take me home. He’d been drinking ice water since he was driving, but it is clear that he wished it was something stronger as he watched Hayleigh playing pool, laughing and joking around with several guys, including Kendrix. When I mentioned leaving, he tore his eyes away from her and looked me over, before glancing toward the back. Then he just nodded, handed me my coat from the stool, and started for the door. Once we were in the car, Brannon seemed like he wanted to say something, but he’d simply turned back and started the car. I was sure he’d seen Ean pull me to the back, but he didn’t comment on it, and we drove back in silence. Although, he did throw me an odd glance from time to time. It should probably embarrass me that Brannon knew what we were up to, but I just couldn’t find it in myself to care. I suppose it was stupid of me to hope this would change anything. How many times am I going to let him break my heart?

Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You wanted it and you knew the risk. It’s done, and it was unbelievably amazing.

I nod at myself after the little pep talk. I’m not going to let that stubborn jerk ruin it.

Before I step into the shower, I inhale deeply, enjoying Ean’s scent on my skin. The smell of fresh soap mixed with his cologne wraps itself around me and I can almost feel his hands all over me again. A part of me is reluctant to wash it away, but my head knows I need to put this behind me.

I got a text from Ean last night, telling me he would be home today and wanted to talk. He had diligently avoided me for two weeks after our night at the bar. He was hiding out in the human realm, the coward. I wanted to smack him upside the head for being such a child, but I’d have to see him first, wouldn’t I?

Finally, one night, he’d been forced to see me; the day Aden had arrived with Shaylee. We’d spent the evening at my parent’s house. It was awkward with a side of uncomfortable. Our house was full of family and friends, giving Ean yet another opportunity to avoid me. It’s not like I wanted to have an emotional talk about where we were going and what he felt for me. I was pretty clear on that subject. But, we needed to find some way to be around each other, it was unavoidable with our group being so tight. For the love of Fate, we are in our seventies. We should be beyond this kind of high school bullshit.

Imagine my surprise when the next day he was gone on assignment.

Apparently, he’ll be back tonight and
now
he wants to talk. If I was a petty person, I’d brush him off because turnabout is fair play. But, I refuse to sink to his level. So we’ll hash things out tonight.

I’ve spent the day with Shaylee, moving forward on her training after a couple of days with just Aden. She is funny as hell and I love her already. She walked into the gym wearing a t-shirt that said:
Do not read this sentence. You little rebel. I like you.
It cracked me up and broke the ice between us even further.

She’s been picking up everything I’m teaching her pretty quickly and I’m very impressed. Although, she could use a little more focus when Aden is around.

Hello, pot? This is kettle.

She let on that Aden had issued some kind of ultimatum that ended Friday. There’s nothing like messing with your big brother, so when Hayleigh and I invited her over for a girls night, we planned it for Friday. That lifted my spirits for the day.

I glance at the clock on my phone and see that it’s a little after eight, then set it back down on the red, wooden end table next to my couch. He’s late.
Shocking.

I don’t want to be nervous, it’s not like this conversation will contain any surprises. I even talked myself into putting on black yoga pants and a purple, oversized t-shirt. I would not dress up for him, damn it! However, the butterflies in my stomach won’t settle down, so I get up from my seat and grab a glass of wine from the kitchen. After another half hour, and two more glasses, I’m sufficiently buzzed. I’m now lying on the couch, trying to decide at what point I give up on him appearing and go to bed, when there is finally a knock on my door. I glide over and open it, ushering him in a wide, sweeping gesture. “So good of you to grace me with your presence. To what do I owe this benevolent honor?” OK, I might be a little more than buzzed.

He looks so damn good in his jeans and black sweater, I immediately start questioning my choice of attire, and my messy bun. Ean gives me a speculative look as he enters, and then his eyes drift to my empty glass on the coffee table next to the mostly empty bottle of wine. I shut the door and lean back against it, waiting, letting him take the lead on this conversation. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, a long sigh escaping from those perfect lips.

“Laila,” he scolds, “Are you drunk?”

I smile and saunter past him, putting a little extra sway in my hips. “I was well on my way before you showed up.” Making my way to one of the overstuffed chairs in my living room, I plop down with absolutely no grace. Every minute he stands there, the fog from the wine clears away and honestly, I’m not particularly happy about that. “Don’t harsh my mellow, man.” I giggle at my quote, but looking at Ean’s straight face, he is obviously not amused.

“Fine.” I sit up and ditch the humor. “What did you want to talk about, Ean?” He starts pacing and eventually, I get a little dizzy. “Ean, just sit the fuck down and spit it out!” I say, harshly.

His pacing stops and his head whips toward me in surprise. I raise an eyebrow and gesture to the couch. I don’t quite believe it when I see one side of his mouth tip up, the movement so small, I almost miss it. He moves to the couch and sits on the edge, near my chair.

“We’ve got to get past what happened, Laila. Our lives are too intertwined to leave things the way they are.” He looks at me expectantly. Is he waiting for me to agree?

“Ean, may I just point out that you were the one avoiding me? I was ready to have this conversation weeks ago.”

He shifts, looking slightly uncomfortable, and a little guilty. He opens his mouth to say what I’m pretty sure would be a litany of excuses, so I put my hand over his lips, and glare at him. After a minute, he nods, so I take my hand away. The places where our skin touched are warm and the heat runs straight to my core. Why do I have to be so freaking attracted to him?

I sigh and decide I just want this to be done so that I can go to bed. “Look, what happened was great.” He starts to speak so I rush ahead, cutting him off.