Overture (Rain Dance, Book 1) (Rain Dance Series) (39 page)

     
"Ah."
I hopped onto a stool and leaned my elbows against the island table. "So
did you do other
normal people
things? Dishes? Laundry? Taking out the
trash? Scrubbing the toilet?"

     
He glanced at
me, a small curve forming on his lips. "Yes to all of the above."

     
"Did you
make your bed in the mornings?"

     
This time there
was a long pause before he answered. "I've never made a bed before."

     
"…Really?
At all? So did you live alone like a cool kid or did you have a roommate?"

     
"I shared
a place with some friends during the first two years before eventually deciding
that I wanted to be on my own."

     
"What
about when you were my age? What were you like?"

     
He frowned and
shook his head. "Four years was an awfully long time ago. I can barely
remember."

     
"I'm
serious! What were your interests? Did you have a girlfriend? I bet you did.
Was life hard then or were you breezing through it?"

     
"Is there
a reason for all the questions?" he asked, looking up at me again.

     
I shrugged.
"I just want to know more. I told you a bunch of shit about me today. It's
only fair that I learn a little more about you."

     
After giving me
a wry smile, he resumed cooking. "My interests were the same as they are
now. Reading. Music. Sleeping, especially. I did have a girlfriend. Life wasn't
particularly hard, just very busy. By that point, I had everything I needed to
run the business on my own. Most of my time was spent on trying to improve it.
Food is done." He flicked the stove off.

     
Dinner was
delicious, of course. I tried to press Ethan for more information about his
past, but he wasn't very forthcoming. I think it had less to do with the fact
that he was hiding something and more to do with the fact that there just
wasn't much to say. I could relate. But he did tell me about his best friend
and old roommate, Eugene Frey, who everyone simply called Frey. Both of their
mothers had been very good friends. The two boys didn't see each other too
often, maybe a few times a year before Ethan's parents had died. But they had
remained in close contact until Frey had come to live in the states.
Supposedly, he was an adventurous man with a streak for mischief.

    
 
When we finished eating, I went ahead
and cleaned up all the dishes. I was just about to suggest some games we could
play when Ethan suddenly pulled out his phone.

     
"Hm."
He scowled at the vibrating device in his hand. "I have to make a
call."

     
Guess he
really can't escape work, no matter where he is.
"Okay. I'll be right
here getting smashed and doing cartwheels and handstands."

     
He kissed my
forehead before making his way upstairs. "Don't hit your head," he
called.

     
After he
disappeared from view, I started looking around for something to do. I didn't
feel like watching TV and there were no books or magazines to keep me occupied.
At least I had calmed down within the last few hours and was alright with being
left alone now. I could worry about what I hadn't told him when the time came.
For all I knew, it would never come.

     
No, because
you'll be long gone before that will ever happen.

     
We'll be okay.
We have to be okay.

     
He might
be…but you won't.

     
Distraction. I
had to find something to do. Fast.

     
I kept
searching the living room. A victorious grin spread across my face when I found
an audio dock within the shelf underneath the television set. I didn't know how
long Ethan would be gone, but if it was work-related it might end up taking a
while. Carefully, I pulled the dock out and set it on top of the shelf for
easier access, then went to find my bag. After digging out my iPod, I began
searching for something fun - something that would make me want to dance more and
more with every passing minute.

     
"Bingo!"

     
My choice was
Oscar D'León's 'La Canto.' Yep, I would be getting my salsa on tonight. As the
guitar intro began, I stretched, lightly twisting my body to prepare it for
what was to come. When the drums came in, I moved my feet and then my hips. I
was only just beginning to ease into it, so I kept the movements simple and
even. But by the time the first chorus came in, I was spinning, clapping my
hands, snapping my fingers and singing along. I didn't understand what I was
saying, but that didn't stop me from pretending like I did.

     
It was far too
quiet when the song ended, so I quickly set the music to shuffle, hoping that
Britney wouldn't come blasting out of the speakers. Luckily, it was Billy Idol's
'Eyes Without a Face' instead, gently oozing out in smooth waves. I sighed in
relief. Deciding I needed a glass of water, I whirled around and was about to
dash into the kitchen when I almost ran into Ethan.

     
"Do you
speak Spanish?" he asked.

     
My face heated
up. He'd been watching - or I'd been too loud.
Guess I got a little carried
away
. "Nope, I don't," I answered, skipping around him in
embarrassment. I grabbed a clean glass from the counter and filled it with
water, all while singing along to the music. Ethan never took his eyes off me.

     
After taking a
large sip, I finally had to ask, "What?"

     
"...I
asked you if you were a dancer, remember?"

     
I did. It was
the day he called me graceful. The day I woke up as a Disney princess.
"Yes."

     
"You said
you weren't."

     
I took another
sip. "I'm not. I just like to move around for fun." He simply
continued staring, his expression entirely blank. "Everything okay? With
the call, I mean."

     
"...Just
some small complications," he answered quietly.

     
I nodded,
unsure of what that meant. As we stood silent, I suddenly began to feel really
cold. I quickly scanned the area for any open windows, but they were all
closed. Then I looked back at Ethan, who was still watching me, and shifted
uncomfortably. He was a few feet away, his body relaxed and his face calm. But
the energy around him was something else.

     
Loud. Angry.
Violent. It scared me.

     
His phone rang,
almost making me jump.

     
"You gonna
get that?" I asked when he didn't move.

     
He waited a few
moments before turning around to head back upstairs. When he answered his
phone, he remained quiet, simply listening to the caller.

     
Only when he
was gone completely did I set the glass down before going to take a seat on the
sofa. It was probably out of habit that I desperately wished I had my gun in my
hands. It was wrong. I knew Ethan would never hurt me, but the need to protect
myself was strong.

     
I settled down
onto my side, now growing tired.
What the hell happened that had made him so
angry?
While wondering if there was anything I could do for him, my eyelids
slowly shut.

     
It was dark
when I woke. I shot up, panicked, trying to see my way around the unfamiliar
room. I took a deep breath, trying to remember what was going on.
Oh…of
course.
I was still at the beach house. Sighing in relief, I began
searching for any signs of Ethan. There were none. As I got out of bed, I
noticed that I was still fully dressed.
How long ago had he brought me in
here?

     
I walked in the
dark, reaching for the walls, carefully making my way downstairs. I looked
around the kitchen and the living room, but he wasn't in either. That's when I
started to worry. I took another deep breath and tried to calm myself. If he
wasn't anywhere inside, then chances were that he was probably outside.

     
I peeked out
onto the deck and, sure enough, there he was, staring out into the distance.
Quietly, I opened the door and stepped outside, shivering as goose bumps began
to form over the surface of my skin. It was freezing. The sound of the ocean
waves were harsh now, less like a gentle whisper and more like a breathless
scream.

     
"What's
wrong?" I asked.

     
After a pause
he glanced back at me and smiled. Even in the poor lighting I could tell it was
off. "Nothing is wrong, Kitten. I was just doing some thinking." He
returned his attention to the dark waters. "You know…it's been years since
I last saw the ocean in person. It feels oddly nostalgic. Anyway, it's too
cold. You should go back to bed."

     
"...Will
you come?"

     
"In a
minute. Promise."

     
I took one last
look at him and went inside. He didn't want to tell me. That was okay. I didn't
like it, but I could accept it. After all, there were still things that I
clearly didn't want to talk to him about. If something was wrong, the most I
could do was give him my support.

     
I was about to
get back into bed when I remembered my clothes. It was also fairly cold inside,
but it would be easy enough to get warm once underneath the covers. I removed
my sweater, then my shorts. The tank top came next. And finally, my underwear.
As soon as they were off, I bit down on my lip, letting it sink in that I was
standing naked in a room that wasn't my own. I wanted to get used to this. I
needed
to get used to this. I dove into the bed and pulled the covers over me. After a
few minutes, I was finally warm again.

     
Not too long
after that, Ethan came in, just as promised. I heard the soft rustling of
clothes hitting the ground. He got in behind me and began to pull me close to
him, but froze when his hand brushed across my bare midriff. Seconds later, I
turned around and snuggled into his chest. I could hear him swallow.

     
"Kitten," he said quietly. "Where are your clothes?"

     
"You said
I wouldn't need any."

     
He was silent.

     
Up until now, I
had been worried about being this close to him without anything to cover me.
Underwear was one thing, but this was another. I was afraid that the intimacy
brought on by
complete
nudity might be too much for me to handle. But
here in the safety of his arms, I realized there wasn't any need for that kind
of worry anymore. His hard body against mine - the feeling of skin on skin
contact took
safe
to a whole other level. It also ignited a kind of
hunger that I still wasn't entirely used to. I wanted to touch him with my
hands, to warm up his cold body. I wanted to caress him. To lick, taste, and
worship him. I breathed in his scent, wanting to drown in his essence. I wanted
his large form to cover me. Overtake me and fill me up completely. I wanted him
to be rough. I wanted him to be gentle. I just wanted him. Now.

     
Timidly, I
reached a hand up to his face and waited a moment before kissing the corner of
his mouth. When he did nothing, I kissed his bottom lip. Then his jaw, where I
lingered before moving down his neck.

     
Finally, he
moved. I felt his large hands tighten around my waist. Before long, he was
pulling on my hair, bringing my head back up so he could take my mouth with his
own. I sighed into his kiss, allowing his tongue to expertly tease and dance
with my own. His hands followed the curves of my skin until they came to the
sides of my breasts, where his thumbs moved to brush against them. Somehow,
even a small touch as that managed to feel unbelievably good. He had barely
touched them, yet it almost felt as though they had been burned in the best
possible way.