Wyne and Song (12 page)

Her heart beat loudly in her ears as she stared at Ethan standing in the entryway. Then he stepped into the room, and she forgot how to breathe. His gaze was dark and full of emotion, with gratitude and need vying for top billing as he strode straight for her and pulled her in for a hug. Safe from his view, she squeezed her eyes shut at the feel of his strong, heavy arm resting atop her wound. Then her brain registered the feel of the rest of his body.

His chest was warm, and solid, and she melted into him, deciding he mustn’t be there to reprimand. Which worked for her.

“Thank you so much for what you did today,” he said against her temple. “Tyler told me how you saved him.”

She nodded, brushing her cheek against his chest. “I know you said to stay away from him, but when I saw him go into the woods alone…I had to follow.”

“I’m so damn glad you did.”

He squeezed her tight, and sharp pain radiated in her shoulder too sharp for her to squash the yelp.

Ethan stilled, then drew back. “I’m sorry. Where are you hurt? Let me see. I know you didn’t go to the doctor, other than the one playing on the damn TV behind us.”

She bit her lip. “Figured that out, did you?”

“Yes. Now let me see where you’re hurt.”

She scrambled to grab her ruined purse from the couch. “I keep meaning to give you your knife back that I found in my penthouse. Although, I’m sure glad I had it today.”

“Keep it,” he replied, stepping closer, determination squaring his jaw. “Tell me where you’re hurt.”

“It’s okay. Jill helped me.”

“Phoebe.”

She sighed and eye rolled him. “Fine.” Then untied her belt and let the robe slip off her body. Damn thing hurt anyway.

He muttered a curse as he studied her bruise. “I’m sorry, Phoebe. Is this going to hinder your performance?”

“No.” She told him the truth. “That’s two weeks away. I just might have to be careful with rehearsals the next few days, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, trailing a finger up the unmarked part of her arm, over her shoulder to her neck where he leaned in to brush her skin with his lips. “Any way I can make it feel better?”

Her knees literally knocked together and she grabbed his upper arms for support. “Depends.”

On if she was dreaming this.

God, she hoped she wasn’t dreaming this.

“Yeah.” He continued to kiss her neck, slowly making his way up her throat. “On what?”

“How long can you stay? And do you have a condom?” she responded, sucking in a breath between questions as he slid his thumb under her bra and unhooked it with a flick of his finger.

His stubble grazed her throat, sending goose bumps down her right side as he kissed her jaw. “A few hours,” he replied, cupping her ass with one hand, and her breast with the other, while he brushed his thumb over her nipple…twice. “And yes, two.”

She smiled, running her hands up his chest and shoulders. “Good.” She held his heated gaze. “Sounds like the perfect ratio for us.”

He brought his grinning mouth to hers as he backed her up to the oversized chair she’d splurged on. “Indeed it does.”

Then he was kissing her like she meant everything to him, shocking her with the fierceness of his need. She trembled and slid her hands under his shirt to stroke his hot skin. He broke the kiss and reached behind him to grab the back of his collar and yanked it off one-handed.

Dead-sexy move that had her body quivering in anticipation, and when he dropped to his knees and ran his hands up her legs, she reached out to grasp his shoulders.

“Ethan…”

He had her body aching for him and he’d barely touched her, but remedied that by kissing her belly while he tugged her shorts and panties down, following the procession with his lips. Hands on her hips, he urged her to sit down on the chair at a slight angle, so her wound cleared the back cushion, lifted her legs over his shoulders and looked his fill. “Gorgeous. I’ve been thinking of this for weeks.”

With the pad of his finger, he stroked while kissing her upper thigh, slowly making his way to the center, treating her to those occasional caresses that had her eyes drifting shut and urging him to give more by shoving her hands in his hair.

He slid a finger inside and groaned. “So damn wet.”

And when he pulled out just as deliciously slow in an upward motion, he ripped a raw sound from deep in her throat that lasted as long as the stroke. He did it again and again, holding her in that hot, fuzzy limbo between need and release. She was shaking and panting, gripping his head as everything inside her tightened, and just when she didn’t think he’d ever take her to the final level, he licked her.

Phoebe cried out and bucked. Using his finger and tongue in a heart-pounding duet, he took her out of herself, and she came undone with a liberating, wild abandon that left her quivering and weak.

He sat back and gazed at her. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

From somewhere, she found the energy to smile, but was thankful nothing more was required as she watched him strip in sexy, economical moves. He grabbed a condom from his pants, opened the packet then rolled it on, his smoldering gaze never leaving hers.

Placing his hands on the armrests, he bent down and brushed her lips with his for a drugging kiss that stoked the heat simmering low in her belly. They broke for air, and as she worked to get her breathing under control, he switched their positions, and she found herself straddling his lap.

“Are you okay this way?” he asked, reaching up to brush her cheek with his thumb, his gaze tender and smoldering at the same time. “I don’t want to hurt your shoulder.”

She cupped his hand and kissed his palm. “Thanks. This is good.”

“Indeed it is.” He smiled, running a finger down her throat to the tip of her breast. “This is very good.”

Ethan hadn’t meant to take Phoebe within minutes of entering her house. Hell, he hadn’t meant to take her at all. When he’d knocked at her door, he’d had every intention of thanking the wonderful woman for putting her life at risk to save his son, treat her wound, then leave. But when he held her sweet body close to convey his gratitude, the usual happened whenever he was in close proximity to the woman. His mind, his intentions, all of it shut down, and his body—need—took over.

And not just his.

He tweaked her nipple back and forth, waiting until it was good and stiff before leaning forward to close his mouth around the beauty and sucked. He may not be able to heal her shoulder, but he could sure as hell make the rest of her feel good.

Phoebe let out one of her sexy, musical moans and gripped his biceps while she arched her back, giving him one hell of a beautiful view. He nearly lost it when she rocked against him, and he clenched his jaw to hang onto his control.

“Ethan…please,” she implored, staring down at him, her eyes so dark and needy.

“You ready again?” He slid a finger between her wet, opened thighs, and she rocked against him again.

“Yes. I need you inside me.” And to prove it, she lifted up, positioning herself over his tip, giving him access to where he wanted to be most.

Buried to the hilt deep inside her.

H
olding Phoebe’s gaze, Ethan grasped her hips and thrust up while she sank down. Their twin cries of satisfaction echoed through the room, mixing with the sound of the TV.

“I’ve dreamt of this, Phoebe.” He cupped her sweet ass, moving slow, savoring the exquisite feel of her warm, wet heat surrounding him.

Her breath caught as she held his gaze. “You have?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Every damn night since I was with you last.”

She ran her hands over his chest. “Me, too,” she panted, rocking with him.

But it was all becoming too much. He’d wanted her for too long, and she felt so damn good. He sat forward and kissed her deep, sweeping his tongue in her mouth, adopting the same rhythm as their thrusts. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest, and when she let out a moan that made him break out in a sweat, he broke the kiss and sat back, watching her ride him hard.

“Now, Ethan, now,” she urged, driving him wild with her flushed face, breasts bouncing, fingernails scraping his chest.

His whole body was tight and throbbing, and although he wanted nothing more than to stay buried deep in her forever, he knew their time was limited, and he had another condom to help them climb to this state of ecstasy again before he had to leave.

“I need…”

He sat up, bringing them so close not even a page from the newspaper could fit between them. The feel of her peaked nipples grazing his chest liquefied his spine, while he gripped her hip with one hand, and gave her
more
with a brush of his thumb over her center. She cried out, grasping his shoulders tight as she climaxed around him with delicious tugs. He stilled and thrust up hard, his vision blurring as he followed her over with a release that drained every bit of his strength.

Completely spent, he dropped back, and she flopped on his chest, her spurts of breath warm on his skin. They stayed that way a long time. The connection between them was strong, and he knew he was playing with fire when he came to see her alone. But he’d had to see her, and not just to thank her for saving his son. He needed this connection, to touch her and be touched by her, and he was damned if he understood the reason.

Ethan slid his hands up and down her spine, careful not to brush her shoulder with his arm, loving the soft murmurs she made against his throat. Right now, he didn’t care about the why, just the right now.

F
riday afternoon, Phoebe was still smiling. It had been an amazing week between work and spending time with both Ethan and Tyler. She’d bumped into father and son at a gas station mid-week, and had been surprised when both had invited her to the little boy’s baseball game. The rush of joy she got watching the little sweetheart try his hardest wasn’t any easier to explain than the rush of lust and really strong like she got whenever Ethan’s warm gaze found hers. She positively tingled in the stands. Several people noticed, including their friends when they’d gone out for pizza afterwards.

“Ethan seems to put a bigger smile on your face than my chocolate,” Jill had whispered last night while they made s’mores by the Wynes’ fire pit.

Phoebe had laughed. “True, and that’s not an easy feat. Believe me,” she’d said, licking Jill’s chocolate that had melted onto her finger.

And later, after Tyler had fallen asleep, she’d licked the same chocolate from something much tastier. Sexier. Muscular, when his dad had stopped by her cottage for a few hours of alone time.

She couldn’t wait for an encore performance tonight, but right now, she needed to get her mind back on theater. She was sitting on the stage, her feet dangling over the side, along with several cast members, as they talked with high schoolers on a field trip at the theater.

The cast and crew had just performed their first full dress rehearsal for the students, and it hadn’t been without hiccups, but that’s what the dress runs were for, to work out the kinks. The teens seemed to love it, despite the technical difficulties of stuck curtains, burnt out bulbs, the cast’s missed timing and a few flubbed lines; she was still tingling from that high she always got from performing live.

Would it be there if she was on camera, doing a scene over and over again to get different shots and angles?

“I have one for Ms. Weston,” one of the students said when the teacher prompted them to ask questions.

“Yes?” She held the pretty brunette’s shy gaze.

“I was wondering how old you were when you started?”

She cocked her head. “If you mean acting? I was four. My mother took me to all sorts of lessons at that age, acting, voice, dancing. And if you mean my first show?” The girl nodded. “I was cast in an off Broadway production of Annie when I was eight. It was a small part, but I was so hooked.”

A ripple of laughter went through the students.

“Do any of you act?” she asked.

Two hands went up.

She smiled. “How many of you want to act but don’t know how to get started?” Over a dozen hands shot up that time, and this bothered her. “Doesn’t your school have a drama club?”

“No,” they murmured.

God, she couldn’t imagine growing up without theater. She not only took lessons, she attended an arts school.

“There’s no room in the budget,” the teacher offered, disappointment ruling her features.

Phoebe’s mind was still burdened by this as she exited the theater later that day. She may not have seen her mother much while growing up, but she did spend time with her going to and from lessons, which was half the reason Phoebe had taken them…to spend time with her mom. But she also enjoyed the training. It was a win win, and it was becoming clear just how lucky she’d been with the arts so prevalent in New York City, in her life, as well as her mom’s support.

She hated to think of others missing out that could possibly thrive if trained. It made her sad, just like missing Tyler’s game tonight because rehearsing the final act ran longer than expected. Ethan told her not to worry in a text, and she’d agreed to meet them at Marcelli’s for supper.

As she pulled into the parking lot of the pizza shop, she wondered briefly how her mom had managed to work two jobs and find time to ferry her about. Phoebe had only been juggling her schedule to fit in Tyler and his dad for a few days, and she had a huge appreciation for parents, whether single or not. Fitting everything in was not an easy task.

But it was worthwhile. And she already knew that if she nailed her screen test in two months, and ended up filming out of state for a few weeks, she wanted to keep in contact with the father and son.

If they wanted.

Her heart raced at the thought of seeing him and his son again. They made her feel…blessed.

She smiled at her sentiment while parking next to Ethan’s truck. Tossing her keys in her purse, she rushed into the shop, bell above the door jangling, announcing her entrance. Between take-outs and eat-ins since arriving in town, Phoebe was as familiar with Evie, the owner, and her big handsome brother, Nicco, who sometimes helped out, as they were with her. She waved to the pretty blonde as a barrel of energy rushed straight to her like a fifty pound bullet.

“Phoebe! We won,” Tyler hollered, smile lighting his face and filling her heart with warmth.

She picked him up and hugged him tight. “Congratulations! I’m so bummed I missed it.” She carried him to the booth where Ethan stood smiling.

“That’s okay. I get to eat with you,” the little boy exclaimed as she set his feet on the seat and turned to his grinning dad.

She lifted up on tip-toe and kissed him half-on and half-off his talented mouth. “Congratulations, Coach,” she said, slipping her arms around him for a quick hug.

“Thanks.” He chuckled, kissing her temple before drawing back, reluctance in his gaze as they retreated to their seats. “How was rehearsal?”

“Better,” she said, reaching for the glass of water he had waiting for her on the table. She took a long pull before turning to her smiling booth companion. “But I’d like to know about the game. What did I miss?”

Twenty-eight minutes later, Tyler was still filling her in on the fly ball he caught in center field to make the last out in the game, while she finished her second slice of pizza. It was weird, she wasn’t at the Ritz, rubbing elbows with famous directors and playwrights, hoping they’d remember her when it came to casting their next big play, and yet, she’d never been so rejuvenated, happier…and that floored Phoebe.

She was at a pizza joint with charming red-checked table cloths and a clock in the boot-shape of Italy hanging above her on the wall. The sweetest little boy, wearing his heart in his big brown eyes and on his dirty uniform sleeve, sat next to her, telling her about his day. And his handsome father was reaching across the table to brush his fingers over hers as if he needed to touch her, needed the connection and knew she needed it, too. All normal, everyday, life occurrences…for someone from
Anytown
USA.

Except, she wasn’t from any town. She was from New York City. Practically grew up on Broadway. She lived and breathed theater. So it was a shock to realize this was just as satisfying. Just as fulfilling as performing, entertaining people, making them happy.

Maybe even more.

The bell jangled above the door, then jangled again and again as a crowd of people funneled into the restaurant, knocking over chairs as they closed in on them, phones and cameras in their hands, hollering something about a cougar.

Phoebe’s heart stopped.
How’d they find out? It was a whole damn week ago.

She jumped to her feet and grabbed Tyler’s hand as Ethan stood. “Take him out the back. Hurry,” she urged, pushing the frightened little boy at his tight-lipped father.

“What about you?” Anger hardened his gaze as he picked up his son.

“I’ll be fine. Go!”

She moved out of the way to let him pass, then blocked the crowd from following. “You have any questions, you address them to me.”

After four minutes of tendering vague answers, Phoebe retreated into the kitchen when Nicco arrived with Officer Hottie.

“Here.” Evie pushed her down on a stool and shoved a glass of red wine in her hand. “Sip.”

Doing as she was told, Phoebe spent the next minute calming her pulse and sipping her cabernet. Although it was yummy, the wine did little to ease the tightness in her chest. She couldn’t stop seeing the fury on Ethan’s face as he shielded Tyler from the hungry crowd’s advances.

How the hell had they found out? She’d been so careful. Their run-in with the mountain lion was a whole week ago.

This was exactly what she’d been afraid of. What she’d tried so hard to prevent.

“You okay?” Evie’s concerned gaze held tight. “My brother and Jeremy got them to go.”

She nodded, but dread funneled deep. “They don’t quit that easy.”

Nicco opened the kitchen door, filling the space with his large, firefighter frame. No way would the crowd last with him around. “They’re gone. You can come out now, Phoebe.”

She nodded, handing Evie her drink before venturing back into the dining room. The empty dining room. She turned to the owner. “I’m so sorry, Evie. Your customers were scared off. I’d be happy to pick up their tabs.”

The petite blonde touched her shoulder and smiled. “It’s okay, most of them had already paid.”

Jeremy stepped close. “Sorry, Ms. Weston. I gather this is what you were trying to avoid.”

Tears filled her eyes as she nodded. “Yes. And it’s not over. They’re probably at the resort, too.” She hiccupped back a sob.

What the hell had she brought down on the Wynes?

“Any idea how they found out?” the officer asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “None.” She’d told no one. Not even her mom.

Concern filled his blue eyes. “Do you need me to escort you home?”

Home? She wanted to go Ethan. But that wasn’t a good idea. The three of them together in the same spot was a very bad idea.

She let out a breath, and her newfound happiness along with it, because she knew Ethan was going to halt their budding relationship. And, God, she didn’t blame him.

“No,” she replied. “Thanks, I’ll be okay. But you need to go to the resort. Make sure Ethan and Tyler aren’t hounded.”

He hesitated a second, then nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Nicco said. “Evie switched keys with Ethan, so I’m going to drop off his truck and grab my sister’s car, after I follow Phoebe home.”

She smiled, even though she felt like crying. “Thanks.” Then insisted on paying the bill of the last meal she would ever share with Ethan and Tyler, before heading home.

Two hours later, the call came.

She stared at the phone a second before answering.

“I can’t do this, Phoebe.” Ethan’s tone was dull, distant, with just enough remorse to ease her pain in knowing she wasn’t alone in the regret.

“I understand.” She sucked in a breath, fighting back the tears. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I swear I didn’t leak the story. I have no idea how it got out.”

“I do.” He shocked her silent. “Tyler. He told me he’d mentioned it at school today at some kind of show and tell. He’d removed his bandage and explained how he got the cut.”