Everything inside me tightens like a wound coil, finally releasing as the second orgasm shudders through me. I dig my nails into Ethan’s skin and bring my hands to his hips, driving his cock in deeper. Ethan comes only seconds later, resting his forehead against mine for a moment. He reaches down and picks up his boxers from the floor, giving them to me so I can wipe myself up and not make a mess on the couch. He covers us both with a blanket, intending on staying naked and tangled together for a little while longer.
But as soon as we get comfortable, something loudly bangs against the front door.
CHAPTER 12
“You heard that, right?” I jerk up, heart racing.
“I did.” Ethan reaches for his phone on the coffee table, and I feel a bit of relief when I see the notification from our doorbell, letting us know someone is on the porch. Ethan pulls up the live feed and we see Donna with another woman, both holding casserole dishes of steaming hot food.
“Normally, I’d say ignore them until they go away, but I’m not one to turn down free food,” Ethan says, setting his phone down. I give him a look, waiting for him to tell me he’s joking. When he doesn’t, I make a face, shaking my head. He plants a quick kiss on my forehead and reaches for his pants. I’m slower to get dressed, pulling my sweater dress back on and hurrying to find my underwear. My leggings are…somewhere? I suppose I don’t need them.
I’m smoothing my hair as I walk behind Ethan to the door, fully aware that my cheeks are still flushed from having sex. That’s three-for-three for looking like a hot mess—or acting like a total whack-job—when it comes to meeting Donna. Really, she should learn and stop showing up uninvited to my house.
“Ladies,” Ethan says, cheeky grin on his face when he opens the door. Hunter comes down the stairs, sitting by my feet. “To what do I owe this surprise?” He’s wearing gray sweatpants with no boxers underneath, since his were used for cleanup and are currently discarded on the living room floor, halfway under the couch. It’s not hard to see the outline of his big cock through his pants and, I swear to God, Donna just dropped her gaze.
Twice.
“Hello to you too,” she says, a little flustered.
Wonder why. I cross my arms over my chest, but it’s because I’m cold, not from being annoyed by this middle-aged woman who is obviously checking out my—holy shit, she just did it again!
“This is Selena. She lives in the house about a quarter-mile from mine, which makes her another neighbor.”
Ethan steps aside, welcoming the women into the house, eyes on the food they’re carrying. It does smell good; I’ll give him that.
“Hi,” I say awkwardly as they step into the foyer. Selena flinches when she sees Hunter, eyes going wide. I can’t blame her; Hunter is much larger than the average German Shepard dog and has an air about him that’s intimidating. “This is Hunter.” I run my fingers over the tip of his ear. “He’s very friendly.”
Selena’s head bobs up and down. “You must be Anora.”
“I am.”
Silence ticks between us, and I look at Ethan for help. It was his idea to invite them in.
“Let me take that from you,” Ethan offers, thinking with his stomach again. Donna blushes when she hands him the dish.
“It’s lasagna,” she tells him. “My grandma’s recipe.”
“Can’t wait to try it.” Ethan sets it down on the dining room table. “Now, you two didn’t come all this way just to bring us food, did you?” He flashes his famous cheeky grin again, and I can’t help but admire him at this moment. He knows he’s good-looking, from his whiskey-colored eyes to his muscular arms covered in tattoos, looking like that bad boy you only meet when you’re pages deep into a dirty romance novel.
“Guilty.” Selena laughs. “When Donna told me that the people in the old Estelle House were here to stay, I felt like I’ve been such a bad neighbor. We didn’t realize you’d moved in for good.”
“The Estelle House?” I echo as Ethan takes the second dish from her and puts it next to Donna’s lasagna.
“It’s what I’ve heard it referred to.” Selena looks around the foyer, just as obviously curious about this house as Donna is. She’s older than Donna, in her sixties maybe, with her blonde hair teased in such a way I know she believes the higher the hair, the closer to God to be true.
“Did you know my great-aunt?”
“Not well.” Selena unzips her coat, obviously expecting to be invited in. I don’t want to make a bad impression on the neighbors. Though, finding out more information on Aunt Estelle is my real motivation for playing hostess. “She kept to herself and wasn’t around much. I believe she worked at a boarding school if I’m not mistaken.”