with his tongue as he drove into her. His hard thrusts made her bed shake, the springs squeak and the headboard hit against the wall. Not only was he drawing out a need and desire within her, he was fulfilling it to a degree that had her meeting him, thrust for thrust.
With one final thrust into the depth of her, her body spun into an orgasm of gigantic proportion. As she reveled in her climax, he kissed her with an intensity that elicited moans from deep in her throat.
At that moment, there was only one thing she could think of. So much for them being just friends.
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Ethan eased from the bed and slipped into his jeans. Once he had snapped them up, he glanced back over his shoulder at the woman asleep in the bed. Never had any one woman touched him the way she had, in and out of bed.
And that was the crux of his problem.
He pulled in a deep breath and leaned down to brush a kiss against her temple and then quickly pulled away when he breathed in the scent of her, which had the power to render him helpless.
He rubbed a hand down his face. What the hell had he gotten himself into? Rachel had made it clear, exceedingly so and on more than one occasion, that she had no intention of getting involved with anyone she considered to be in the spotlight, anyone who would put the media on her tail. If she became involved with him, she ran the risk of that happening. He knew if there was any ounce of decency within him, he would grab his stuff and leave and when he saw her tomorrow he would pretend last night never happened.
Easier said than done.
He couldnât do that.
Something was forcing him to not only acknowledge that it happened but to do whatever he could to make sure it happened again.
He shook his head in dismay as he left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Wasnât it just a little over two weeks ago that heâd made the vow to focus on his career more than anything else, certainly more than anywoman? But there was something about Rachel that called out to him at every turn.
He had gone back into the bedroom he should have been occupying to freshen up when his cell phone on the nightstand rang. He released a deep, annoyed breath when the caller ID indicated it was his agent. âYes, Curtis?â
âEthan, where are you?â
He rolled his eyes. âIs there something you need, Curtis?â
âThe paparazzi canât find you.â
âThatâs too bad,â he murmured with agitation clearly in his voice. âAnd how did you know they were looking for me?â
His agent paused a second before saying. âItâs my job to know everything thatâs going on with you.â
Ethan frowned. Was Curtis somehow responsible for the media hounds hanging around outside of his house last night? It wouldnât surprise Ethan, since his agent liked keeping him in the news. In the spotlight, as Rachel termed it. The thought that Curtis could be connected didnât sit well with him. âYour job is to advance my career, not fabricate lies about me and my love life.â
âItâs never bothered you before,â his agent countered.
The man was right. It hadnât bothered him before. âIt does now, and it would behoove you to remember that. Talk to you later, Curtis.â
Ethan then disconnected the call.
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The sound of a ringing telephone worked its way into the deep recesses of Rachelâs sleep-shrouded mind. Without lifting her head from the pillow, she reached out and grabbed her cell phone off the bedside table. âHello,â she said in a drowsy voice.
âI canât believe youâre still in bed.â
Rachel forced one eye open upon hearing her sisterâs voice. âWhat time is it?â
âAlmost noon. You werenât at church today, and Aunt Lily wanted to make sure you were okay since itâs not like you to miss service.â
Rachel moaned, which was followed by a deep yawn. âIâm fine,
Kent Flannery, Joyce Marcus