“Yes,” I breathe. I feel it from my head all the way to the tips of my toes. How such a small part of my body can elicit such pleasureastounds me, but I’m not about to question it.
Ethan continues to massage my clit with his pointer and middle finger. Every now and then he stops and dips them into my center to gather more of my juices, using it to create friction against my clit. I watch in awe and fascination as he works me over, bringing me higher and higher. I refuse to think about anything but what he’s doing to me. I can feel the impending orgasm drawing near, and then with a flick of his fingers, I detonate. My eyes close of their own accord, and those infamous fireworks I’ve been longing to see, appear—bright and colorful. My entire body shakes as I let myself go and enjoy my orgasm.
When I finally come down, I open my eyes and find Ethan staring at me. My cheeks and neck heat, now that my brain is no longer clouded by my orgasm, and Ethan grins.
“I could watch you come like that every damn day.”
Before I can respond—not that I have any clue what to say to that—he tells me he’ll be right back. He disappears through a door in the corner and a minute later returns with a wet paper towel. Opening my legs, he swipes up my center. My heart speeds up at the sweet, intimate gesture.
After tossing the paper towel into the waste basket, he grabs my panties and jeans and puts them back on me. I consider telling him I can get dressed myself, but I’m too fascinated watching him to say a word.
After slipping my boots back on my feet, he takes my hand in his and tugs me up until our faces are only inches apart. “Finding your release is part physical and part mental. The next time you try it yourself, let it all go. Like you just did.”
“I think I’ll just leave it to you.” I shrug a shoulder. “You’re obviously the expert.”
Ethan throws his head back with a laugh and then helps me off the table. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“To play some Blackjack.”
When I frown, he stops walking. “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted to learn.” His words momentarily distract me. I never told him I wanted to learn to play Blackjack. I said I wanted to see a casino, but I never actually mentioned wanting to learn how to play.
Oh no! Has he seen my list? When would he have even seen it?
And then I remember my other list… It was in my underwear drawer… and he grabbed my underwear.
I don’t know why, after everything we’ve done, the thought of him seeing my list feels too intimate, but it does. It feels as though he’s cracked open my ribcage and grabbed ahold of my heart.
“Have you seen my list?” I blurt out.
He stills. “What list?” he asks, answering my question with one of his own. Either he’s seen it and he’s playing dumb, or he genuinely doesn’t know what I’m talking about. If I push this and he doesn’t know, I’ll have to explain it.
“Never mind. I’d like to play Blackjack, but I don’t think I’m dressed for it.” I flit my gaze from my casual clothes to his suit. Next to Ethan, I always look frumpy. Even when he’s dressed down, he still looks like perfection.
“You can wear whatever the hell you want. My family owns the casino.”
“I know, but…” I trail off, not wanting to finish my thought and sound stupid.
“But what?”
I let out an audible huff. “I always imagined playing cards at a casino while wearing a sexy dress and heels.”
Ethan’s lips fight a smirk.
“Oh, c’mon, surely, you’ve seen the movies. Julia Roberts inOcean’s Eleven… Eve Green inCasino Royale…”
Ethan’s smirk widens into a grin.
“Even Kate Bosworth in21wears a sexy black dress.”
“C’mon,” Ethan says, tugging on my hand.
We end up in a small boutique that’s tucked away in the corner of the hotel. The moment the saleswoman spots Ethan, her eyes widen. After situating her top so her boobs are popping out, she saunters over to us. Only Ethan pays her no mind, which secretly makes me giddy.
“Try this on,” he says, grabbing a gorgeous white dress and handing it to me.
“What about black?”
