Never Again

The cabin was tiny, indeed. The front door opened into a living space with a small sectional facing a small television, a kitchenette and a two person dining table behind it. Just off of this room was a hallway that had three doors, which Lydia found to be a small bedroom to the left, a small bathroom in the middle, and a slightly larger bedroom to the right. Small, yes, but mighty- the home had stainless steel appliances and a clean, sleek vibe. While the outer appearance gave off a rugged cabin feel, the interior was awash in modernism with pale gray walls, white cabinetry, and matching white finishes in the form of end tables and doors. Everything coordinated and matched in a crisp but welcoming way.

            “Did you do all of this yourself?” she asked.

            “Hardly,” he scoffed. “I designed the layout and got Michael and a couple of others to help me build it, but the interior was mostly Mom’s doing. I trust her opinion on these things so I just told her my favorite colors and she went with that.”

            “Gray?”

            “White.”

            “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who’s favorite color is white before,” she laughed.

            “I like the way it doesn’t have any enemies,” he answered, shrugging. “It doesn’t feel too heavy. Nothing looks bad with white. I didn’t even realize I had a preference for it until Michael started making fun of me in middle school for always choosing it. As I’m sure you can imagine, a constant stream of white clothing options would be a strange choice for anyone, but everything else I pick, I’ve always stayed in that area. Cream colors and light colors are nice, too. Not that I give it much thought.”

            “Clearly,” she said. “I spill coffee on everything I touch. I couldn’t get away with a white wardrobe, either. But it’s nice. The color white. I’ve honestly never considered it much before.”

            “What’s your favorite color?”

            “Yellow,” she said instantly. “The color of my house. Sometimes blue, the color of my favorite chair.”

            “You have a favorite chair?”

            “Those of us who don’t have multiple houses tend to get attached to our belongings,” she chided with a grin. He grimaced.

            “Fair point,” he said, walking closer to her, closing the distance between them.

            She smiled invitingly, setting her bag down at her feet. “I’ve been traveling all day and I need a shower,” she said, her voice low. “Would you like to show me how the shower works?”

            He wrinkled his eyebrows. “It’s pretty basic,” he murmured as he leaned in. His forehead pressed against hers, his lips whispered against her own, “But I would be more than happy to give you a detailed, in depth, long course on how the shower works.” He kissed her softly. “In fact, I better just go ahead and get in there with you. Wouldn’t want you to get burned by the hot water.”

            She shivered and smiled, pulling away from him. “Yes, please,” she said as she walked past him and headed for the bathroom, tugging her shirt off as she went. He waited only a fraction of a second before following her, but then thought better of it.

            “I’m going to activate the security system and lock the doors- I’ll be with you in just a second,” he called, regret lacing the words.

            “Don’t make me wait too long,” she answered, winking back at him.

            Once in the bathroom, she closed the door and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed. She bit her lip and winced. Had she really just winked at him? But it felt right. Everything about this felt right.

            She took a deep breath and then used the bathroom, stripped off her clothes, and started the shower. The bathroom had an overly large shower stall but no tub, and she regretted the inability to take a long, hot bath.

            But then the door opened, and Ethan stood there shirtless. She forgot all about a hot bath as she pushed the glass door open, wordlessly asking him in. He made quick work of stripping off his pants and boxers and then he was there, in front of her, already hard for her. She trailed a finger down his chest and then wrapped a hand around the full size of him. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, a soft sound coming from his partly open mouth. She slowly moved her hand around him, stroking him, and felt him grow even bigger.

            He grabbed her wrist. “I need to calm down,” he said. He twisted so that the water was streaming down his back and pushed her against the warmed stone wall of the opposite side of the stall, pausing for a moment to kiss her fully, tracing her lips with his tongue before backing away and smiling at her.

            “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said quietly, and something about the way he said it made her heart swell. The words were pure and unadulterated, and beneath the simplicity of them, something much deeper was taking root.

            She didn’t have time to think further on it, though, as he trailed kisses down her neck and over her breasts, taking his time on each of her nipples as he moved his hands over her hips. She ached for him to touch her at her center, where heat was growing with each passing second, and he finally did so- gently pressing his palm against her, cupping her.

            She arched her back, urging him to go further, and his middle finger moved ever so slightly, teasing her opening.

            “Ethan,” she gasped, and he pressed his erection against her belly, groaning.

            “I love the way you say my name,” he growled, his lips against her ear.

            “Ethan,” she said, her voice low. “Ethan, Ethan, Ethan-“

            He threw his head back again as she reached down and wrapped her hand around him, stroking the length of him. His finger still softly stroked her, and she angled her hips toward him, trying to push him further into her. Instead, he pulled away, leaving her feeling empty.

            She was about to protest, but he knelt down and licked her upper thighs, trailing his tongue across her labia. She moaned. He was driving her crazy, teasing her like this, and his smirk when he looked back up at her let her know that he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

            He raised himself up  and pinned her to the wall, one arm on each side of her head. Water dripped from his eyebrows onto her face and she smiled at him. “You’re getting me all wet,” she said.

            He chuckled and leaned forward, running his tongue along her ear. “That’s the whole point,” he whispered, giving her chills despite the hot steam surrounding them.

            His hand went back to her center, again cupping her and gently teasing her entrance, and she moaned in protest. “Please, just give it to me,” she groaned, and his dark eyes turned a shade darker. 

            “Absofuckinglutely,” he growled, lifting her slightly. She spread her legs and arched herself toward him, and he rubbed the tip of himself against her clit, enticing her further. Finally, when she was frustrated enough to take what she wanted instead of playing this endless waiting and teasing game with him, he pushed himself into her, as if he could read her mind.

            As she ground herself against him, Lydia felt chills engulf her body. His full girth was so perfectly matched with her need that she threw her head back in pleasure, riding him with abandon. He matched her pace, giving her every inch of himself, harder when she begged him to, her legs wrapped around him, locking him in. 

            He maneuvered his hand between them and began stroking her, giving her the friction she needed to reach the edge. Seeing her catching a rhythm, he matched her and watched her closely as she took her pleasure, losing her breath as wave after wave crashed around him. It was enough to pull him under, and he came with her, maintaining their balance and rhythm until they were both drained and panting. 

            Laying her head against his chest, Lydia smiled, letting the water trickle down his neck and onto hers. 

            “Fantastic,” she whispered as he slipped out of her.

            “You are… incredible,” he said, leaning back to look at her. He put his hand on her face and just stared at her for a moment, his eyes drinking her in. 

            “We should finish cleaning up,” she said, smiling up at him, and he returned the look, his face full of something that Lydia couldn’t place- but something joyful, happy, at the very least. He poured an excess of shampoo into his palms.

            “Turn around. I’ll wash your hair.” She did so, relaxing as he worked his fingertips through her hair, massaging her scalp. The shampoo was fragrant and rich, and she luxuriated in the feel of it.  

            “How did you learn so much about what a woman likes?” She asked, her eyes closed. He angled her so that the warm water ran over her breasts and began rinsing her hair, gently tugging to get her head angled back.

            “Do you really want to know?” 

            “Mmm, maybe not,” she murmured. “Just keep doing what you’re doing and allow me to think you were born perfect.”

            “A slew of ex girlfriends might argue with you there,” he cautioned, and she playfully slapped at his hands. 

            “They didn’t know you,” she said simply, as if it were an unfortunate overlooking on their part. She couldn’t fathom a man this strong and yet so gently scrubbing her hair; this kind and yet so fiercely capable of protection. He was charming and funny, but reserved and quiet. A walking contradiction in the best of ways, complete with an openness that she believed would make him a great communicator- something she’d always valued in her relationships, when she had time to evaluate them as they unraveled. This one was occurring quickly and under the strangest conditions she ever could have imagined for herself. 

            “You say that with such certainty,” he told her, turning her to face him once her hair was rinsed. “We don’t know each other that well. I’m not… I hurt you the first time we ever met. Why do you allow me to even touch you?”

            The pain that crossed his face with these words made her ache. “Because it feels really good?” She tried, earning a slight and insincere smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I feel you, in here,” she tried again, touching his chest. “I feel your soul. You’re so solidly good. You didn’t hurt me- not in any way that matters and not for any reasons that count. You were protecting me, Ethan. You have got to let that go.” Seeing the shadows clouding his eyes, she added, “I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t done the things you did.” 

            That did it. He pulled her in close, holding her to his chest, and she closed her eyes against the stream of water running down her face. “Never again,” he said, resting his chin on her head, and for whatever reason, she believed him.