New Year in Manhattan (2 page)

Ethan

On the way back to the office, I texted Anna

E: I’ll be home by 7pm. Can you wait up?

A: All night, for you.

E: Good. I want you in bed and naked by the time I call.

A: Yes, sir.

E: Stop with the “sir”, you’re making me hard.

A: That’s how I like you, sir.

Fuck, she could get me like steel with a text from three thousand miles away. I was like a fucking teenager when it came to her. Maybe we should have a no text rule during office hours?

I slipped back into my work routine. Managing things from London for three months meant that being back in New York made everything seem easier and I got through things quickly. But I did have a conference call at eight that evening that I could take from home. It meant I got an hour with Anna. The thought of her in bed and naked—her creamy-soft skin wrapped in our sheets—had my dick twitching, so I tuned it out and got on with the day.

It was just coming up to 7pm and I was stuck in traffic. Fuckety fuck. I didn’t want to waste a minute with her, so I called her from the back of the cab.

“Hey, my handsome man.”

“God, I love you.” I couldn’t stop myself, I loved her and how she loved me.

“Are you okay?” She sounded concerned. Because I’d told her I loved her? I wasn’t doing it enough if it raised questions.

“Yes, I just wanted you to know. I’ve missed you all day.”

“I’ve missed you, too. I don’t like being here without you. It doesn’t feel right.” My gut ached hearing her say that. It felt like she might be missing me as much as I was missing her.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in bed.”

“Did I wake you? Were you sleeping?”

“No, I was waiting for your call. You told me to be naked and in bed, so I am.”

I groaned and the taxi driver shot me a look in the mirror.

“Fucking traffic,” I spat.

“Where are you?”

“In the back of a cab. The traffic’s a bitch. I shouldn’t be too much longer. I just couldn’t wait to hear your voice.”

“It’s fine. There’s no rush.” I hadn’t told her about my 8p.m. conference call because I didn’t want her thinking I was fitting her in amongst other things or that there was a time limit to our call. “How was your day?”

“Good, actually. I saw Andrew for lunch and I got a lot done.”

“How are he and Mandy?”

“Good. They want to see you when you come over. I’m going to have dinner with them one night this week.”

“I’m glad you have them.”

“Me too. I left something for you, in the top drawer, where my stuff used to me. Go take a look.”

Anna

“You did? What is it?” I asked.

“Go take a look,” he repeated.

I scrambled out of bed, went over to Ethan’s drawer and pulled it open. The sight of the almost-empty space made my stomach flip. Another reminder that he wasn’t here anymore. But it wasn’t completely empty. There was a small orange box stamped with the now familiar Hermès logo. I grinned, grabbed it and headed back to bed.

“Did you find it?”

“I did. You don’t need to buy me gifts.”

“I want to. I think you’re the only girl ever born who complains about getting gifts.”

“I’m not complaining. I just don’t want you to think you have to.”

“I want to. Do you like it?”

“I’ve not opened it.”

“We should be doing this by video call or something. I want to see you.”

“Three weeks. Where are you now?”

“We’re just pulling in. Open your gift.”

I did. I loved that he’d thought about leaving me something when he was gone. He was good at this boyfriend thing, even if he hadn’t had much practice. It was a beautiful blue enamel bracelet. “God, Ethan, I love it. Thank you.”

“Put it on. I want to imagine you in nothing but a bracelet.”

I grinned at the thought of being his fantasy. And his reality. “It fits beautifully, thank you. I’ll send you a picture.”

The sound of the street echoed more clearly on the other end of the phone. “Where are you?”

“I got out to walk. I’m just at the end of the block.”

“I want to hear more about your day.”

“It was completely uninteresting compared to you in our bed, naked.”

Our bed. He still thought of it as ours.

“Tell me. I want to hear everything as if you were beside me chatting.”

“If I was there and you were naked, I wouldn’t be talking about my day.”

I wondered how many women had flirted with Ethan today, on a day I wasn’t going to be there to wrap my hands around his cock and make sure it was my eyes he was looking into when he came. I had to push the thoughts to one side

“Tell me, what would you be doing?”

“Oh, beautiful, you might be the death of me. But I’d die happy, that’s for sure.”

My whole body heated. The thought of being the one that made him happy? That I could do that to him? It was all I could want. The sounds of the street began to fade.

“If I were there now,” Ethan continued, “I’d lay you on your back on our bed and drink you in for a few minutes. I love your skin, how soft it is, how it tastes. I love the feeling of my fingers on you, in you, all over you.”

There was familiar wetness between my legs at his words. It was if he was worshipping my body.

His voice and the buzz across my skin made his absence more acute. I was aware of everything I didn’t feel. Everything he would be doing to my body if he were here. The almost too-hard press of his thumbs below my hips. The drag of his lips across every inch of my skin. The feel of his hard body under my fingers, my lips, my tongue.

My nipples tightened and grazed the sheets I was wrapped in. I squeezed my thighs together. “I wish you were here with me.”

“Beautiful, there’s nothing I want more, right this second.” On the other end of the phone keys jangled and doors slammed.

“Are you hard?” I asked, almost embarrassed, but not quite. Our relationship had been, until now, so much about the physical stuff between us. It was how we communicated, it was how we were comfortable. We were in new territory here. I got confidence from his desire for me. Now I was blind. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I needed to be there with him, to see, to feel for myself.

“Like a fucking stone. Like I said, you just have to exist to make me hard. Having the image of you naked on the other end of the phone makes me like steel. If I were there, would you be ready for me, baby? Tell me how wet you are.”

“Ethan.” I wasn’t sure I could do this. It felt strange and unfamiliar.

“I want you to reach between your legs. Stroke that perfect pussy of yours and tell me how wet you are.”

Tentatively, I moved my free hand down across my stomach, then lower. I was ready for him, but I wanted to do what he said.

“Tell me, Anna.”

My slickness quickly coated my fingers. “I’m ready for you, Ethan. Really ready for you.”

“You’re ready for my tongue, my fingers or my cock?”

I couldn’t help but groan. “Ethan.”

“That’s right, you’ll have all of them.”

I started to circle my clit with my fingers and my back arched.

“Jesus, I want to be inside you right now. I’m so hard. I want to be surrounded by your pussy. It’s my favorite place to be. I love the feel of you around me while I slide into you. The way your eyes widen every time, like I’m almost too big.”

“Fuck, Ethan,” I whimpered.

“That’s right, beautiful, tease that pretty clit. Imagine my tongue bringing out your pleasure.”

I was close and then the phone slipped out of my hand. As I pulled it back to my ear Ethan seemed to slip away from me. My body went cold and my mind was distracted by his absence.

Something left me and I wasn’t going to get there. It wasn’t enough for me to pretend that he was touching me. In fact, it was worse. It just made me more aware that he wasn’t there with me, doing what he did best.

“I’m so hard for you. Are you close? I want us to come together,” he said.

“Yeah . . . I love you Ethan.” I wanted him to get off even if I couldn’t. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t walking around with a hard-on without me being around. I wanted this to work.

“Anna?” His tone changed quickly. He sounded serious. “Anna, are you bullshitting me?”

“I . . . I . . .” How could I answer him?

“Were you faking it with me?”

“No! Never. I would n-n-never,” I stuttered.

“But you’re not about to come.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m sorry. I was and then I just missed you and it left me.” The beginnings of tears began to gather in my eyes.

“Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry. Jesus I wish I were there. I want my arms around you.”

I laughed. “And the rest.”

That broke the tension and Ethan laughed, too. “Yeah, and the rest. But seriously, this situation sucks.”

“It does.”

“You’ve never faked it with me, have you?”

I laughed again. Ethan had never been insecure about the power he had over my body—to think that he had the slightest doubt about the way I responded to him was laughable. “I’ve never needed to fake a single thing about our relationship, and certainly not the way you make me come. I can’t say I’ve never faked it, but I’ve never faked it with you. I couldn’t stop myself from coming even if I tried when you touch me.”

“You say the sweetest things. If I were with you I’d be fucking you for the second time tonight.”

“Now I’ve left you with blue balls.”

“Yeah, about that . . . is getting myself off cheating if you’re not on the end of the phone?”

“No. I mean, did you when you were in London? Do you think it should be?” Why was he asking me this? It felt weird talking about it. But at the same time I was pleased. Ethan seemed to have no boundaries. He hid little from me and I loved that, but I wasn’t used to it. No one in my life had ever been as open as Ethan was with me. As much as it made me slightly uncomfortable at times, it was exactly what I needed.

“I never did in London. But I spent half my time inside you.”

I smiled. “Why would you think that I wouldn’t want you to?”

“I just didn’t know how you would feel about it. So I wanted to ask you.”

“You are the best boyfriend ever. Do you want to know how I feel about it, no bullshit? I think that I want you to get yourself off twenty times a day if you need to. Anything to ensure that you’re not tempted to go near another woman while we’re apart.”

“Okay, that’s not what I was expecting you to say. You’re worried that I’m going to cheat on you?”

Was I? I
was
worried that I would lose him, but would he cheat? I didn’t know if he could go without until the next time we saw each other. He did, after all, have the sexual appetite of a nineteen-year-old boy and he’d never had to think about being monogamous before. “I don’t think I’m worried, but it’s natural to notice other women, and I guess you’re more likely to act on that if you’ve not had sex for a while.” I was trying to sound rational. I was trying to
feel
rational. “You’ve never had to deny yourself before Ethan.”

He was quiet on the other end of the phone.

Ethan

I was left wounded by her admission. Wounded because she thought I was capable of betraying her. Wounded because she thought I didn’t have more self-control, but most of all I was fucking devastated that she couldn’t feel about me the way I felt about her—not if she thought that I could ever want anyone else.

If she thought that sex with another woman could compare to her, she didn’t get it. The idea of some random hook-up made my skin crawl. Apart from the fact that Anna did things to my body that no one else did. I wasn’t convinced those things were entirely legal, they felt so good. The fucking was in a whole different category of sex that I hadn’t realized existed. But it wasn’t just fucking, it was connection, it was understanding. Or so I’d thought. But maybe it wasn’t like that for her. Maybe she’d had this before. Maybe this was good, but nothing special to her. She didn’t get how I felt about her. She
couldn’t
feel what I felt for her because if she did, she’d understand it wasn’t a possibility that I would even look at another woman. There would never be room in my brain, my heart or my soul for anyone else.

“Ethan,” she breathed.

“What can I do?” I asked. “To make it better, to reassure you that there will never be anyone else?”

It was her turn at silence now.

That gave me every answer I needed. There was nothing I could do. Nothing to show her how she wasn’t just another woman. I knew that she, and what we had, was different. She didn’t feel it and there was nothing I could do to show her. Especially from three thousand miles away.

The grip around my heart tightened.

I would lose her.

Maybe I’d never had her to begin with.

“Tell me about your day,” she said.

I didn’t know if I should force the issue, make her talk about it. It was my natural instinct but I’d lost confidence in our magic formula of no bullshit. It didn’t seem to be enough.

I started telling her in minute detail about everything that had happened. For some reason, it was important to get the details right. To be clear. To tell her everything. Time was ticking away. Eight was approaching, but I didn’t want to end our conversation. She should be sleeping now. Was she trying to stay awake?

“How did you make it home so early?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“On your first day back? You must have left the office at six-thirty to be home now.”

“I brought some work home. I wanted to speak to you. You . . . us. It’s my priority.”

More silence.

“I’m sorry I ruined it,” she said.

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

“But it wasn’t what you had planned.”

“You weren’t what I had planned, and look how lucky I got. I love giving you pleasure, I love getting you off, but it’s not the only thing between us, beautiful. Not for me.”

“Me either. But I want you to . . . you know.”

I laughed. “What?”

“You know, to, er, be satisfied.”

I could feel the warmth in her cheeks from here. “All the things we’ve done and you can’t tell me you want me to come?”

“Ethan.”

“What? It’s pretty funny.”

I loved the sound of her laugh.

“I promise to jerk off in the shower.”

“Promise to think of me.”

“Beautiful, I can think of nothing else any time of the day or night.” It was true, she totally owned me, and I wanted her to know it. “We’re going to make this work, you know.”

“Should it have to be an effort?” The giggle was gone. She sounded serious.

Every part of her was having doubts. She was dripping in them. And I didn’t know how to stem the flow.

“I don’t know about ‘should’,” I replied. “I’ve got nothing I can compare us to. All I know is that I want you and me to work more than I want anything else.”

She sighed. Was I pushing too hard? “But you’ve got to talk to me, I’m not there to see it in your face, you’re going to have to tell me what you’re thinking.”

I could almost hear her brain whirring at the other end of the phone. “It’s all jumbled up in my head. I’m not sure I have the words,” she responded.

“They don’t have to be in a particular order, just talk.” Jesus, I was desperate for her just to spit it out, to talk to me. I could deal with anything if I understood what was going on in her head. I wasn’t sure I’d understood what anxious meant before I’d met her. I guess because she had the power to hurt me—the power to walk away. I couldn’t, didn’t want to control her, I wanted her to
choose
me.

“I just wish you were here is all.”

“I wish I was there, too. Or that you were here. Or that we were somewhere together. Anywhere.”

“Careful, you’re turning into a romantic.”

“Nu-uh. I just don’t bullshit and that’s how it is.”

“I know,” she said.

“You know?”

“I do. I feel it. The same. I just . . .”

“What? You’ve been here before and you’ve been hurt before?”

“God no. No. Never. I’ve never been here before. Not like this. I think maybe that’s it. It’s because this is different.” Her voice was quieter as she spoke. As if she almost didn’t want to utter the words. “I’d never recover.”

Her admission reassured me a little. It didn’t seem to be lack of feeling that was creating the doubt—if what she was saying was the truth.

“You’ll never have to.”

“I thought you didn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“That’s right.”

“Ethan.”

“I mean it. It’s not going to happen. I won’t let it.” But she was right. I couldn’t control it. She had her part to play as I did, and perhaps we’d need some good luck in there somewhere as well.

“You’re going to have to be sure enough for the both of us sometimes.” Her voice dipped a little, thickened with something.

“I can do that,” I assured her.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.”

“But I wish I could have, you know.”

Fuck she was adorable—she still couldn’t say that she wanted to make me come.

“Oh you will. And as you know, I don’t make promises I don’t keep.”

She laughed again and I started to relax. But only slightly. I checked my watch. Fuck, it was coming up to my conference call. I wanted to stay on the phone to her. All night. Especially now. I didn’t want to have to hang up on her while the uncertainties were still so close to the surface. I wanted to soothe her for just a few minutes longer.

“It’s late. I should sleep. And you have to work. Tomorrow will be better,” she said.

Tomorrow would be better. I would make sure of it.

We hung up a few minutes past eight and I quickly dialed into the call while powering up my laptop. I’d planned to send her various gifts throughout our time apart. I wanted to make her smile, and make her realize how I was thinking of her all the time, even if I wasn’t with her. When I’d bought her the scarves, I’d enjoyed real pleasure from thinking what she might like. I loved it when I got it right and her eyes lit up as she unwrapped the one I’d chosen to go with her hair, or that would look so beautiful against her skin or that would go with the new suit she bought. It was an extension of the sex between us. I got pleasure from giving her pleasure. It was a revelation to me. I hadn’t realized I could be happy because someone else was happy. I wondered if Andrew felt like this about Mandy, or if James felt this way about Jessica.

I’d tried to stay awake so I could speak to her before she was properly awake. I loved the sound of her drowsy, half-awake voice. I couldn’t get enough of it.

At some point I must have fallen asleep because I woke to horns, my laptop and papers still spread across my bed. I was at least sleeping back in the master bedroom now. Feeling her around me, seeing her in my apartment was exactly what I wanted. It was tortuous, but it was necessary. When I left for London I did everything to avoid memories of her in my apartment. Now it was exactly the opposite.

I checked my phone. She’d be at work. I could get a head start on my day, maybe even hit the gym. I started to check my messages and found several texts from Anna. More than several. Almost a dozen. Shit, I hoped something wasn’t wrong. I opened them. As the realization of what I was seeing hit me, a heat crossed my body and I was aware of the blood in my veins.

Pictures. Lots of pictures. Close up.

I scrolled through them—her lips, slightly parted, just as they were when she came. The juncture of her upper thigh, her magnificent tits pushed together, with a hint of her hand. The curve of her ass. Her fingers, where I wanted mine.

Jesus, I was hard. I wanted her with me, but this was the next best thing. She was beautiful. That skin, what those fingers could do to me, what that ass could do for me.

She answered on the first ring. I grinned. She’d been expecting my call.

“You’re up early.”

“And you’re trying to kill me.”

“That wasn’t the intention. Just a little reminder of what you’ve got back in London—and of who is visiting you in three weeks.”

I groaned and reached down to my rock hard cock.