Ophelia wondered if she should have been offering to go to his place. He had never brought it up before. She’d been to his Uptown home once before for a pre-game. Maybe he instinctively knew that meeting at her place would put her more at ease, letting her get to know him more on her own turf. He was considerate like that.
When Etienne arrived, he brought with him two white takeout bags full of pho. “It’s definitely pho weather,” he said, placing the food on the kitchen island.
She started opening one of the bags. “Oh my God,” she said as the heavenly scent of rich broth perfumed the air.
“You get the wine,” said Ophelia, turning to her cupboard. “I’ll get the bowls.”
“Well, wait,” said Etienne. “We need to go running first.”
Ophelia grabbed the dish towel from above the sink and threw it at him. He caught it with one hand and started spinning the towel, so it twisted up. Ophelia knew exactly what he was going to do.
“Don’t you dare, Etienne Richard, or I’ll tell your mama,” she said in mock seriousness.
Etienne’s face lit up as he reared the towel back and let it loose near the side of her leg.THWAP. He missed on purpose, but she shrieked nonetheless. Ophelia ran, putting the island between them as he twisted the towel up again for another shot. He was too fast for her and faked going left before lunging right, releasing the towel again close to her thigh.THWAP. He was being careful not to actually hit her, but she was not going to let him get away with it. So with the sound of the third thwap, Ophelia fell to the ground and held her thigh, whimpering in pain.
“Shit! Oh my God, Ophelia, I’m so sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have been messing around with you like that. Let me see. Are you okay?”
Ophelia lay pitifully on her side, clutching her legging-covered thigh. She added a couple more whimpers to really sell it.
Etienne moved to the floor. “I’m so sorry, babe,” he whispered. Her heart rate picked up. That was the first time he’d ever called her babe. He gently pulled her hand away from her thigh to examine her leg. As he leaned in, Ophelia pounced on him, shoving his back to the ground with both hands pinned to his chest.
“Gotcha,” she said, smiling triumphantly at him. Ophelia watched as his face went from shock to pride to something else entirely. She was straddling his waist, and her long hair had fallenforward, skimming his chest. Ophelia tracked his eyes as they dipped to her lips, then to the gap in her shirt revealing her cleavage, and back up again.
“Ophelia,” he murmured, grabbing her hips tightly, digging his thumbs into her flesh. “You have to say when you’re ready.” He looked like he was in pain waiting for her to respond, and Ophelia could no longer hear those dreaded thoughts of fear and self-doubt. She could only hear her heart hammering and feel her blood turning molten. She was present. Safe.
Ophelia licked her lips and hovered right above him, almost grazing the sensitive flesh of his lips. “When,” she whispered and dipped her head in that last centimeter to lightly taste his lips. They were soft and plump and delicious, and she desperately wanted more. Her second taste was hungrier, and as she pressed further into him, Etienne snapped. He shoved her hips down on to his pelvis as his tongue invaded her mouth, tasting the moan she released from the feel of his erection through his scrubs. Ophelia grinded down on him right where she needed him. Their kiss became more frenzied. Etienne’s hands ran up the smooth skin of her back. He moved to lift the hem of her shirt.
“Can I?” he asked, breaking the kiss.
“Yes, please,” she responded breathlessly as she raised her arms for her shirt to be removed. Cool air caressed her skin. Etienne groaned. His eyes drank in her slim neck, her breasts cradled by a delicate lace bra that highlighted two perfect mounds, then back to her swollen lips.
“God, you are so beautiful.” He moved his hands down the curves of her waist and muttered “Fuck” under his breath.
“Let me see you,” she said, pushing his shirt up, exposing his tanned torso, smattered with chest hair. Etienne sat up and removed his shirt and then nuzzled his face into her neck, eliciting a breathless giggle from Ophelia. He kissed down her neck, pausing to suck on her sensitive flesh. She couldn’t handle it. Her hips began to involuntarily swirl into his erection.
“Bedroom,” she said and bit his lip. “Now.”
They ungracefully stumbled to her bedroom while theirhands continued to grope at exposed flesh. She opened the door to her room, and Tigger meowed.
“Out, Tigger,” demanded Ophelia and pointed to the door. The cat meowed in response and turned over on Ophelia’s bed, exposing her belly. “I mean it, Tigger!”
Etienne chuckled. “She likes me. Let me get her.” He scooped up the miniature tiger and carried her like a babe out of the room. Ophelia was already wet, and that sight alone made her soaking.
Etienne closed the door and turned to Ophelia. “Birth control?” he asked.
“On the pill. I’m clean. You?”
“Yes.”
Ophelia kicked off her shoes and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Etienne’s eyes rounded in shock, then swiftly hooded over in arousal. He didn’t say a word. Ophelia took his silence as a cue to continue. She pulled her black leggings past her generous hips, leaving only her black lace thong. Etienne groaned in pain, palming his erection. The outline of his cock was obscene against his scrubs.
“Ophelia.” He said her name like she was torturing him, and maybe she was. She walked slowly toward him, cupping her breasts, then teasing a nipple. She continued toward him until they were toe to toe, pressed up against each other. Every time she breathed, her nipples grazed lightly against the hair on his chest, creating the most glorious friction.
“What do you want?” he asked, his deep voice rumbling through her. She felt her core clench.
“You.”
“How?” he asked, dragging a finger down her sternum.
