Chapter 30

ISABELLA’S POV

 

 

Saturday has eventually morning arrive. It has not been easy getting to this place with my with my sanity intact. I am hunted by every night of wet dream leaving some residual heat burning under my skin. My body feels restless, and too aware of itself. I get the twins dressed and ready, keeping my movements efficient. So when I heard the knock I rush and open the door immedaitely, relieve to find Ethan standing there, thankfully sober, with his emotion controlled, and most importantly exactly on time.

 

“I’ll take them for the day,” he says.

 

“Keep them for the night too,” I answer. “I have plans. I’ll be late.”

 

He studies me for a second. “If you won't mind me ask, what kind of plans?”

 

“Yes I mind, and it is the kind that don’t involve you.” I hand him the small overnight bag I packed for the children. “Bedtime is eight-thirty. Lila needs her teddy bear always. Liam will try to negotiate more time to fix his precious truck. Don’t let him.”

 

He takes the bag. Liam is already talking his ears off about the playground. Lila reaches up for a quick hug from me before taking Ethan’s hand. I watch them walk to the car, before closing the door and leaning against it.

 

The quiet house feels different today, but the series of dreams from my night has left me wound tight. I need to expel this energy somewhere else. I need noise, attention, and something strong enough to burn the restlessness out of me.

 

I shower, and dress in a short black dress that hugs my body and brings out all my curves before calling Sofia.

 

“I’m going out tonight,” I tell her. “Club. You in?”

 

 

 

ETHAN’S POV

 

 

I spend the day with the children at the park and then back at the penthouse. Liam appoints me chief assistant in a complicated obstacle course across the living room floor. But Lila eventually climbs into my lap with her bear and stays there while she watches her brother. They eat, bath, and are both asleep by eight-forty.

 

Soon the penthouse becomes quiet. But my head is filled with noisy and restless thought. I pour a glass of water and stand at the window trying to clear my head from my thought. Isabella’s earlier look stays with me. She looked restless and angry.

 

My phone rings a little after eleven. A call from Julian.

 

“Your ex is at Obsidian,” he says without greeting. “Though Sofia’s with her, but they are drunk, dancing, and currently surrounded by a group of male dancers who are being very attentive. Thought you might want to know.”

 

I am already reaching for my keys before he finish speaking.

 

 

ISABELLA’S POV

 

 

The club is loud and dark filled with boisterous energy exactly what I wanted. Sofia and I is on a table near the main floor. As soon as we arrived drinks starts arriving on our table. Then the male dancers that move through the crowd, oiled and smiling, offering attention for tips. One of them lingers at our table longer than the others. Then another one joins us while someone keeps placing fresh glasses in front of me. And soon with the help of the heavy music I stop counting how many I have poured in my throat.

 

I dance while laughing at something Sofia says. The edges of the room has soften compare to when we first arrived . A dancer’s hand settles at my waist for a moment as he leans in to say something I don’t fully catch while I let the noise and the alcohol push the remaining tension out of my body.

 

That is why I do not see Ethan arrive.

 

The first thing I register is his voice, very low and sharp, cutting through the music as he speaks to Sofia. The next thing I register is his hand closing around my wrist. I am really so drunk that I am now imaging Ethan here.

 

“We’re leaving.” Ethan says to me

 

I try to pull back. “I’m fine.”

 

“You’re wasted.” He turns to Sofia. “My driver will take you home. Now.”

 

Sofia looks between us, then nods. She is not as far gone as I am. So Ethan waits until she is being led out before he shifts his attention fully back to me. One of the dancers starts to say something but Ethan’s look ends whatever he wannted to say. Such a bully, and a wet blanket

 

He guides me out of the club with a firm hand at my back into the harsh cold night air. I stumble once on the pavement. But he steadies me, and then simply lifts me up. My arms ends up around his neck because the alternative is falling. He carries me to the car like I weigh nothing.

 

I drop my head against his shoulder. Uhhh he smells so clean and familiar. The rest of the ride is a blur of streetlights and the low sound of his voice telling the driver my address.

 

 

ETHAN’S POV

 

 

She is heavier with alcohol and loose-limbed in my arms. I carry her up the short path to her door, find her keys in her bag, and let us inside. The house is dark and quiet. So I simply take her straight to her bedroom and set her on the bed.

 

She makes a soft protesting sound when I step back. But I ignore it and move to wet a cloth in the bathroom  to clean the makeup and sweat from her face. I remove her shoes and set them aside, pulling the duvet up over her.

 

When I straighten, her hand catches the front of my shirt.

 

“Stay,” she murmurs.

 

“No, you will hate me tomorrow.”

 

But she tugs harder, using my shirt to pull herself up. Her mouth finds the side of my neck first, in an open and warm kiss. Then she gradually move to the edge of my jaw. Before moving to my mouth. The kiss is messy and hungry, tasting of alcohol and need. She makes a low sound against my lips and fists my shirt with both hands, trying to pull me down onto the bed with her.

 

For a few seconds I allow and etertain her actions. Her body is soft and insistent under me. The residual want from every unfinished moment between us surges in my head. I kiss her back deeply, before I force myself to stop.

 

I break the kiss and pull away. But she makes a small sound of protest and reaches for me again.

 

“Ethan...”

 

“Stop.” I catch her wrists and hold them. “You’re drunk.”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

“I do.”

 

I release her only long enough to go to the kitchen, fill a glass with water, and find a packet of electrolyte powder in the cupboard. I mix it and bring it back for her. Entering into the room I find her half-sitting, with her hair in a mess, and her dress twisted, with a heavy and frustrated eyes looking back at me.

 

“Drink.”

 

She tries to lean up and kiss me again instead. I turn my face and put the glass in her hand. “Drink it.”

 

She takes it from and begins to drink, but with a sulky face and unsteady grip. When the glass is empty I take it from her and set it aside. She reaches for me immediately. Her hands slide under my shirt and her mouth finds my throat again.

 

With no choice and not wanting to leave alone in this state, I pin her wrists gently but firmly against the mattress and use my weight to keep her still. In attempt to stop her wandering hands. I don't how long I can endure the torment from her

 

“Sleep,” I tell her.

 

“I don’t want to sleep.”

 

“I don’t really care about what you want right now.”

 

She twists once more, but eventually gradually loses the strength to keep fighting. I stay where I am, holding her in place, until her breathing finally slows and her body goes slack under my hands. Only then do I ease back.

 

I watch her for a minute longer to make sure she is actually asleep. Then I pull the duvet up again, turn off the light, and leave the room.

 

 

ETHAN’S POV

 

 

The drive back to the penthouse is short. But my body is already tight because of Isabelle's little tortuous movement. The taste of her mouth and the feel of her hands under my shirt has awaken a demon, I have been trying to keep bare. 

 

I let myself into the apartment quietly. Thankfully the both children are still asleep. Liam has migrated sideways across the small bed I set up for them. Lila is on her back with the bear clutched to her chest. I stand in the doorway for a while, listening to them breathe.

 

It is nearly three in the morning. They will be awake in a few hours. I need to be functional when they are.

 

I leave the door open enough to hear them, pour a glass of cold water, and sit in the living room without turning on the main lights.