He kissed her slowly. Deeply. Until a hum purred through her body, vibrating straight through to his soul. Only then, did he let her slide down his front, savouring every ripple and hollow and curve on the journey.

Holy mother of God, the man was breathtaking. Mind a muddled mess, Alyssa prayed her legs would hold her as her feet touched the ground. Ethan's lips slid across her throat, his teeth nipping along her jaw and all she could think was more. More, more and more.

Now.

Impatiently, her hands slid around his waist, dove beneath his shirt wanting to find him. Explore him. But Ethan stepped away, his gaze hot and predatory.

"Take the dress off," he said. Sitting down on the edge of the bed and hands braced on his thighs. "Or I'll do it. And I can't promise there'll be much of a dress left when I'm finished."

A wicked thrill raced through her at this unexpected shift in his moods. The quick shock of aggressive possession against the door now gave way to controlled patience she hadn't expected from him. The man was so mercurial and she loved how he threw her off balance.

Knowing there hadn't been a lot of time, Claire, Jenelle and Eva had set to work, transforming her and laying out the game plan. While the choice of outfit had been all Jenelle's doing, but the playful gambit to make Ethan jealous—that bit of genius was all Alyssa's own doing and right now she celebrated the triumph.

When Ethan had first showed up at her door, barely a minute to spare from Jenelle's estimation, Alyssa had to employ every ounce of restraint she possessed to keep her face neutral at the way his eyes snapped to her body. Scoring up from her ankles to her face. The man had vibrated with temper and lust and all kinds of rage that she wanted to channel in to wild, reckless sex.

Alyssa knew she had an incredible body. Knew what she could do with it. Playing with the angles and curves as she slowly worked the dress off her body in tantalizing, teasing display of female sensuality.

She wore a black number with intricate gold and silver detailing with subtle hints of skin beneath. Something empowering about knowing that underneath her clothes was a sexy little secret. Made her feel powerful. Desirable. Feminine. All the things that cancer had stripped away from her she had wrenched back.

But nothing came close to gleam in his eyes, watching her, devouring her or the shock of pleasure and lust as he reached for her hand and pulled her onto his lap. Thighs spread, she straddled him, his hands sliding around her hips, fingers biting into her supple flesh.

His tongue flicked across the dimple of her throat, grazing over skin and stone as he'd imagined doing the moment he'd clapped eyes on her dancing on the beach.

"When I first saw this...it almost drove me mad."

Alyssa struggled to concentrate, her eyes crossing. That mouth. Those hands. Good God. "Really?"

"Yes. Sexy as hell. Every time I look at it I want to rip your clothes off."

"Speaking of clothes," she panted. "Off. Now."

In swift, unexpected movement he rolled them over, bringing her onto her back with his body poised between her legs. Over her, Ethan worked off his shirt, tossed it aside and God, she almost whimpered at the sight of his body.

Hard. Sculpted. Male perfection. She'd had teasing hints and glimpses in the gym with him all sweaty. Or last night as they danced and she'd gotten close enough to run her hands across his shoulders and chest. But everything she imagined was eclipsed by this reality.

Ethan Davies was flawless.

And now, under his hot, piercing gaze she was anxious. Nervous. As it now dawned on her this was going to be the first man to see her since....well, since. That kind of made it a big deal. More so as Ethan didn't have a clue about what he was about to uncover. And that made her incredibly self-conscious. Insecure.

"Wait." She tried to peel his hands from her but they slipped out of her grasp, discovered her anew.

"Don't be such a chicken-shit," he murmured against the curve of her throat, a smile in his voice. And it made hers curve into a smile as well.

"I'm not. I'm trying to explain to you...something important. It's...my breasts." A strap slid down her shoulder, quickly followed by the other one. "It's just—well, they're—" Ethan's mouth silenced her in a slow, steamy kiss that muddled and confused and disoriented.

"Magnificent," he interrupted. Then pulled back so his eyes—deep and fathomless blue. "I was raised never to talk with my mouth full, so shut up cause mine's about to get really busy." Removing the bra, he dragged her hands away. Taking her in. Taking her all in. The fullness. The lush curves and delicate nipples. In the dim lighting he could see their shade and texture wasn't quite right, but the overall aesthetic was beyond reproach.

Ethan brought his mouth over her heart. Pressed a kiss there. Held.

"Beautiful," he whispered. "You're so fucking beautiful." Her breath hitched, her eyes closed. And that glimmer of vulnerability scored deep beneath the lust and touched the farthest corners of his soul. His thumbs circled across those firm, little beads, testing and toying. But there was more to a woman's breasts than her nipples. More to pleasing a woman's body than her breasts. And Ethan planned to show her.

Exploring the sensitive length of her ribs, the smooth parts of her inner thigh and hip. Whispering in her ear or against her soft skin as his hands explored, roamed with teasing strokes, he coaxed her back to life beneath him. All thoughts of doubts and hesitations disappearing. Fading away.

And where his hands went his lips followed. A swipe of tongue, a nip of teeth. A slow, drugging pull of his mouth, hot and hard on her breasts until she gasped and tensed and trembled with need. Her fingers diving in his hair, drawing him harder against her. Wanting more. Begging for more.

And with the resurgence of her desire, his own stoked to dizzying heights. He fought with layers until they were skin against skin, smooth curves against hard flesh, with nothing between them but pure desire. Ethan held on to the last thread of his restraint before sinking into oblivion. But only now that he was a second for sliding home did it occur to him a single, glaring oversight that almost had him cursing his own thoughtless stupidity.

"I don't—I need..."

Rearing up, Alyssa's teeth caught his bottom lip. Nails scoring down his back. "Top drawer."

Oh, Thank God! Fumbling through the drawer, Ethan found what he was looking for. The few seconds it took for him to deal with the tedium felt endless and his hands shook, his fingers were unsteady. But finally, finally, with his forearm braced under her thigh, levering that gorgeous length of leg, Ethan guided himself where he wanted most to be—and plunged. A single, demanding thrust that had pleasure punching him hard in the base of his spine, the sensation rocketing all the way up to the dome of his skull.

Jesus Christ. His body took over. All instinct. All impulse. She'd woken a beast inside them both and it was wild, vicious and deliciously primal. His thrusts savage. Deep. Controlled and ruthless.

His hand closed around her throat, his grip firm enough to excite.

"Yes." That wildness echoed inside of her as she wrapped her legs around him, her hips rising to match his rhythm. Taking him deeper. "Harder. I can take it."

And that killed him. Unraveled him. Growling through a moan, his hips worked in fast, rabid pulses, driving her higher. Faster. Hands clasped, mouths fused. A sinful beat with only one goal in mind. He felt it building within her. That surge and rise. That powerful coil. She cried out beneath him. And that glorious sound was his final undoing. Her name on his lips, his own release ripped from his body, Ethan tossed back his head and let himself fall.

#

Dead. A man should be dead after an orgasm like that. For a moment he'd thought his heart was about to burst from his chest. Or explode between his lungs. Either way, he should be about six feet under and happy to be there on the heels of the best sex of his life.

Spent, dazed and breathless, Ethan lay there, stunned by the degree of his actions. He'd taken her like a madman and with a savage focus he'd never experienced before. Alyssa's perfect body sagged over him, boneless, and sighed. Her lips curved in a content little smile that made him what to haul that mouth up to his and ravage her again.

Soon as his body calmed the hell down. Soon as he could draw a steady breath.

For now he was merely content to hold her like this. The weight of her in his arms, surprised to find his temper was gone. His mood—lightened. In fact, all concerns about propriety, his sister needling and any familial association with Alyssa's had evaporated like a bad hangover.

Gone. Forgotten. Irrelevant.

Far as he was concerned, in this moment, the whole island could hear about it and he wouldn't give a single solitary damn. Somewhere in the distant corner of his subconscious, he heard Jenelle's echoed statement of him being a 'sexually frustrated moron with his head up his ass' and he would sooner gnaw off his hand before admitting she was right.

But now that his mind was clear and his mood leveled, his thoughts went over elements he hadn't been able to process completely under the haze of lust. Angling his body so they were face to face, Ethan stroked a hand over her face, down her throat and across to the fullness of her right breast. He watched the interest in her eyes flicker and shift from excitement to wary understanding.

"Want to tell me about it?"

And why did the man have to ruin a perfectly good buzz. Sitting up, Alyssa sighed. Dragging her feet over the side of the bed and to the floor. Better to spill it all out, get it over with.

"I was engaged when I'd found out. My ex and I were trying for a baby and struggling. So I went to get checked out—a full health assessment to determine if there were any issues. My doctor, he's a pretty thorough guy and advises that while we were running these tests we should also consider taking care of others. Given that I was a woman approaching thirty, and all that. We never expected to find anything."

She felt the bed shift and the weight of his body come up behind her. The press of his lips against her shoulder. But otherwise he stayed silent, waiting for her to continue when she was ready. Allowing her to move at her own pace. And damn the man for being so reasonable and considerate. She almost wished he was like all the others. It was easier to get over rejection from an asshole.

The nice guys...those ones hurt the most.

"The cancer was too far gone and too advanced for simple chemo or radiation alone. My doctor put me in touch with the best breast cancer surgeon in the province. Three weeks later I was scheduled for a skin-sparing mastectomy. It basically means they remove all the breast tissue—all the glands and innards, the nipple and areola but not the skin. This allows for immediate reconstructive surgery. So within the same afternoon I lost my breasts but gained new ones. The new nipples are cross sections of skin stitched back together and I had them tattooed a month ago to give the illusion of a normal breast."

Closing her eyes, Alyssa willed the tears to stay behind her eyes. This was it. The whole sordid mess was out in the open. No taking it back. There was no way he could look at her now and not see the disease, just like everyone else. He would recoil from her. Find some excuse to pull away. So it was best she did it first.

While she had the strength and position of power to do so.

Swiping under her eyes, making sure her face was composed and voice clear, Alyssa rose from the bed, found her silk robe hanging on the back of the door. And tried not to soften at the sight of him, stretched in her bed, the sheets tangled around his waist and dark hair mussed from her hands. His face was dark and compelling and sexy and made her want with such ferocity it almost hurt.

"Alright, Sheriff, it's getting late. We should call it a night." Confusion flashed across his features as the silence settled between them and with it, understanding.

"Seriously?"

"I know, I hate to be a drag but I'm exhausted." She stretched languidly, tossed in an unaffected yawn.

Ethan rose from the bed, naked and shameless and more than a little bit irritated. "Stop."

"Stop what? It's been fun, but it's late, Ethan." She reached for the bedroom door, pulled it open with a sweep of her arm. "You should go home. You should leave."

"Why the hell did you work so hard to get me into bed, Alyssa, if you didn't plan to keep me there?" He stopped in front of her, close enough that he could touch her if he wanted to, but didn't. Though the look in his eyes said without doubt or uncertainty that he planned to. And more.

Seeing it, that unmistakable desire almost shattered her into delicate, jagged pieces. And she could not risk breaking in front of him. Exposing that weakness...

"Please, okay?" She dropped her gaze, unable to look at him and face her shame. "You don't have to do that."

She heard the soften weight of his sigh as his hands settled on her shoulders, drawing her towards him. Against him. "Do what?"

"Be so nice. It's fine. I'm fine. I know you want to, so just go. Please leave."

Ethan's temper evaporated at the hitch in her voice, at the way her shoulders—so strong and capable—bowed with disappointment. And it was then he realized this attempt to push him away was something else. Self-preservation. Fear of rejection. For all her strength of will and spirit, Alyssa had a long way to go in terms of banishing her own insecurities.

"Didn't you hear a damn word I said earlier?" His hands slid up her arms to her face, gathering her. Angling her. So that her lush mouth was aligned with his own. He kissed her, until the argument on her lips softened into a moan. "You're beautiful. So beautiful every time I looked at you—this was all I wanted. If I leave right now it's because that's what you're telling me to do. So, what's it going to be, Alyssa?"

He'd expected anything, just about anything, but not this. Not her tears.

A glittering betrayal that there was a woman in there, all soft and aching and miserable trapped behind a thick, battle-toughened exterior. Hastily, she swiped them away. "Stay...if you want."

Any attempts to hold and comfort her right now would be seen as pity. And Ethan sensed that any form of pity would be the quickest way to drive a wedge between them, a wedge he'd likely never be able to dislodge. So instead he moved for something more...urgent. And physical.

"Good." Snatching her in his arms, he hauled her back to bed. Tossed her down. And devoured. Ripping open the folds of her robe, wanting nothing between them. His movements were swift with demand. She responded, both with surprise and avid enthusiasm.

Opening for him. Rising for him.

He loved her until she was breathless. Until she was limp and weak and exhausted. Then, only then, did he draw her into his arms, and hold her as they both slipped into silence and sleep.

***
Ok - I don't know about you but Ethan is a f-caking stud!

I'm loving him more and more as I get deeper into writing this story. I love how Alyssa snagged his attention. Nothing like a bit of competition to get a guy to man up and make a move.
And those moves tho!
That bit by the door? #swoon