Page 52 of Lovestrung

My dick had been semi hard the last couple hours, and I’d been tempted to relieve myself in the shower earlier; but hoping Penelope would spend the night had stilled my hand. If she did, I didn’t want to risk a lack of stamina. Need and fire were at a low simmer inside me, wreaking havoc with my mind, and I knew it would only get worse once she got here. The memory of the other day when she’d let me inside her wetness, teasing her until she’d come all over me, played on repeat in my brain.

“Get a grip, man,” I muttered at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Great, now I’m talking to myself.” Annoyed, I styled my hair a little bit, making sure that it looked like I’d made an effort to look nice for her.

It was just after six in the evening, and Pen had texted me only ten minutes ago, letting me know she was on her way.

I pulled at the V neck of my black T-shirt and left the bathroom the same moment the buzzer alerted me that she’d arrived. The minute I laid eyes on her beaming smile shining up at me from the camera the nerves I’d refused to acknowledge all day disappeared.

Fuck, she was beautiful.

“Come on up, darlin’,” I grinned, pressing the button to let her in. I opened the door and went to wait for her in front of the elevator, not caring in the least if I was coming on too strong for her.

The minute the black doors opened, my jaw dropped open at the sight of her.

She’d turned her hair into a wave of long, curly locks, and she was wearing the most alluring black, lace top with a high neckline, leaving her arms bare from the shoulders down. My eyes wandered down and I shook my head at the long, light pink ballerina skirt that came all the way down to her ankles. Her toes peeked out of black sandals, the nails painted the same shade as the skirt, and worried I’d start to salivate, my gaze crept back up to land on her face.

“Wow,” I murmured.

“Now, that’s exactly the reaction I was going for when I picked this outfit,” she said and came toward me.

“Fucking gorgeous, darlin’.”

She grinned up at me before leaning up on her toes to press a lingering kiss on the corner of my mouth. When she stepped back, I quirked an eyebrow at her.

“That’s all I’m getting? A light peck?”

“Don’t be greedy,” she tsked and then pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “This way?”

“Yes.”

Still grinning at me, she hefted her small overnight bag and gave me her back as she wandered closer. My steps faltered when I saw all the buttons on her top, and I suppressed the groan that wanted to rumble from my chest.

How am I going to survive tonight?

“I was wondering,” she mused as she took in my loft, “why do you sometimes call me darlin’, and then, other times, you use sunshine instead?”

I hurried after her, shutting and locking the door without losing her from my eyesight.

“Ah, you’ve noticed that, have you?”

“When it comes to you, I tend to notice everything, Ethan. I always have.”

My heart skipped a beat – an actual, honest-to-God skip that I felt down to the very tip of my toes – and I ran a hand through my hair.

How did I explain the distinction between my endearments for her without sounding like a fucking pervert?

“Want a glass of wine?” I asked instead and went to the bar.

She walked closer and nodded. “Do you have any white?”

“Of course. Frederik sent me home with a case the other night,” I smiled, making her chuckle.

“Gramps does love to spoil his kids,” she nodded.

My heart warmed at that even when it settled like a rock in the pit of my stomach at the same time.

“He thinks of you as his, you know.” I glanced at her, overcome with the tender sound of her voice. “He always has. As have Dad and Mama. Surely you already know this?”

I didn’t know what to do or say to that revelation. The truth was that I didn’t know, but now that she’d told me, I was able to admit to myself that I’d hoped that was the case. I went to get the wine from the stainless-steel fridge before opening the cabinet hanging next to the stove. After I found the wine glasses, I turned back around and smiled softly at her.