“Need help with anything in there?”
A loud breath leaves me in a rush when I hear the deep, familiar voice. I lift my eyes up to see his eyes peering over the top of the door, amusement clearly playing in their depths. Why can’t they make fitting rooms with full walls and ceilings here?
“No,” I snap, positive I look like an idiot.
I can’t see his mouth, but I know the bastard is grinning. How did my life come to this?
Cursing, I open the door, ready to possibly knee him in the balls, but suddenly I’m shrieking as he shoulders his way in, pushing me back against the wall. I really hate it when he gets this close to me, and right now, he has me pinned with his hands against the wall, caging me in. But he’s not trying to seduce me this time. No. I know that smirk… The smirk he had in the restaurant. This is going to be bad.
“Now you’re running from me?” he asks, his right eyebrow raising in excitement.
I shiver. Shit. He doesn’t need to see that he has any effect on me.
“I… just… needed to… fix my shirt,” I lie. I’ve never been good at lying. Hell, even Angel knows when I lie.
“Sure you did,” he says in that cocky way of his.
Guys like him… I really hate him. Which is why I’ve been avoiding him, because that hate thing is powerfully seductive.
“What do you want this time? There’s no reason for you to—”
“What? Harder, baby?” he asks loudly, confusing me, and then I turn pale.
No. No. No.
“Stop,” I hiss.
“I’m going as hard as I can go,” he says, resisting the urge to laugh as he starts pounding his fists against the wall, making it sound as though something else is going on in here.
“Stop!” I whisper-yell, shoving at his chest in a vain attempt to move him, but the asshole is a brick wall, and I can’t budge him.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, and my face heats as I slap at his chest harder.
“Yeah, I like it rough, baby,” he adds, and I start praying for a swift and merciful death.
“Ethan!” I scold, ready to berate him, but he uses it against me.
“Yeah, I love it when you say my name. Say it again, baby.”
Kill. Me. Now.
Then, just to add a cherry on top of my mortifying pie, he releases some guttural noise from his throat, dropping his head back as he grins at the ceiling.
“Fuck yes,” he says in a loud breath, feigning exhaustion.
I shove him again, but this time he moves as I glare at him. He laughs while I barge through the door, but I stumble over my own feet when I see a crowd of people staring at me, most of them shaking their heads in disgust. Several pull their kids away, glaring at me before they leave, and I consider hiding in a clothing rack until everyone is gone. What time does this place close?
Ethan walks out and drops his arm around my shoulders, bending to press a kiss on top of my head.
“Next time you want a public place, let’s pick somewhere less crowded.”
My face, which is already ten shades of red, turns even redder. No one would persecute me for murder under duress would they?
“I hate you,” I hiss as he walks away, laughing and not giving a damn at all the indignant gasps around us.
“Only because you want me, Bella,” he says over his shoulder.
Why did he have to tell them my name?