I peel off my leggings as Ethan undoes his pants, both of us grinning at each other. He was taking me to dinner, but our hunger for each other surpassed the need for food. I started teasing him while he was driving, so he found a deserted road and parked. I'm surprised by how spacious his car is when I maneuver myself onto his lap with him in the driver seat. I'm ready and wet thanks to his hand a moment ago, and I line myself up with his dick. I lower my hips, feeling him create a space inside my body for his massive size. Ethan holds me, helping me, and we're both panting already. I hold onto the seat and the inside of the door, and I moan when only half of him is in.

"Shit," I whimper, and Ethan tries to adjust himself, making room for me to get comfortable. I get my knees lower, and he slides in deeper, both of us moaning. We have such amazing sexual chemistry, it's ridiculous. Every time he's inside me -even though it can hurt- I feel better somehow. We know what the other person wants and we're always eager to give it. What started out as just sex evolved into something...better. We're connecting on a higher level than just physical gratification; we get lost in each other, with each other, the mutual feeling undiluted. I've only slept with five men in my entire life, and Ethan is by far my favorite.

When his length is nearly buried inside me, we start a rhythm in our compact space. Up and down, back and forth, I ride him, us panting the same space of air. I put my forehead on his and we stare at each other, the only noise our breathing, the only movement our slow rocking. In the middle of our moment, Ethan reaches up to hold the back of my head, kissing me with a desperation I've never felt before. I kiss him back as he holds me tightly, and when he pulls away, he moans into my mouth.

"I love being inside you," Ethan whispers, and I moan too. "I don't want to lose this," he says quieter than before, and my already erratic heart jumps.

"You're not going to," I say, because I don't either, and his face almost looks pained as he groans. I grab his face and kiss him again, trying to get rid of whatever's bothering him. Lately there's been an undertone to his actions I can't seem to put my dainty finger on. So I fuck him harder. Whatever it is, it's bothering me too, and I want us both to forget about everything but each other. He holds my waist and assists in picking up our pace. When he starts pounding up into me, forcing me onto him simultaneously, my moaning gets louder. He hits his spot on every push. And I say his spot because he's the only one who's ever touched it. The very tight, very tender entrance to my cervix that the head of his dick wedges into when he's deep inside me. It's impossible to avoid when he gives me his entire length, and I love it. Another connection only he and I share.

It's getting hot in his car, but we don't stop, both of us getting closer. Ethan holds my hips and forces me all the way on him, still humping me, and his pubic bone is stimulating my clit.

"Ahhh Ethan," I moan, implication in my tone.

"Cum for me," he pants, pushing his hips. I grip his shoulders, fucking him with hard, quick movements. When he moans in his deep voice, it sets me off, and I cry into his neck. Not a second later he joins me. Wrapped in each other, we cum together, groaning incoherent cries of pleasure. I want to stay in his arms, but eventually the temperature becomes unbearable. I pull off of him and cover my cunt with my hand to avoid a mess. We clean ourselves up, and he rolls down the windows, starting his car. Ethan's much happier after that, smiling at me as he drives to find somewhere to eat. He reaches for my hand under the corner of the table during dinner too, giving me a carefree smile. For the first time today, I feel relaxed, and it lasts until right as we're leaving the restaurant.

"Ethan?" I hear someone call, and I look up to see Ethan blanch. He turns around as some girl coos "Hey!" while he gives her a hug.

"How are you?" she asks, and when Ethan pulls away to stand beside me, she freezes. It's silent for one second, enough time for me to register that this is awkward.

"I'm good Hannah, this is Chanel. Chanel... Hannah," he introduces us. She's very pretty, blonde, big brown eyes.

"Nice to meet you," I say sweetly as she composes herself.

"You too," she replies, smiling. I glance at Ethan, and he seems reluctant to speak.

"Uh, Hannah's an old friend of mine," he says, clarifying how they know each other.

"Oh, okay," I nod, and Hannah won't stop staring at me. I've seen that look before; she's jealous of me.

"Well, my sisters are waiting, um, it was nice to see you," she finally turns to Ethan, looking a little hurt.

"You too, see ya," he says, and she steals another mental photo of my face before walking away. I'm feeling severely uncomfortable about what just happened, but I refrain from jumping to conclusions. We get to Ethan's Subaru, and I find my courage when we're sitting at the stoplight outside the parking lot.

"Do I get to know why that was awkward?" I ask in a light tone, looking at the profile of his face. I immediately start getting that feeling from before, and it's not good.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and my insides tighten.

"Was it not?" I ask. The seconds tick by and I try to be patient.

"Chanel... there's something I need to tell you," he says resigned, and my stomach rolls.

"Okay," I reply, my smooth voice not giving me away.

"A couple days ago I...took Hannah on a date."

"Oh," I say, somewhat detached. A date? Ethan sighs, gripping the steering wheel.

"I went because Hannah and I have a long history. I guess I thought I owed it to her," he says, and for a second I feel delusional. He wants to date other people? The realization that he doesn't want just me consumes me with nausea.

"I understand," I say, surprising myself at how collected I sound. We're both quiet for a moment, which turns into a couple minutes. I feel hurt, but I don't want to say anything. They only went on a date right? The instant I hear him clear his throat, my heart starts pounding.

"There's more," he says, and I shut my eyes.

"What did you guys do?" I ask, staring at the back of my eyelids. It's quiet for another very long six seconds before he answers.

"She gave me head," he says, so quietly I almost didn't catch it... but I did. I definitely fucking did, and my stomach hits another corkscrew. This is really fucking painful to hear.

"Chanel I'm sorry-"

"Please don't apologize," I interrupt him.

"I didn't want to hurt you, I'm-"

"Can you turn left up here?" I ask when I open my eyes and see the road that will go to my house instead of his. He sighs heavily, shifting gears and changing lanes.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and I don't reply. I don't know what to say. All I can think about is Hannah's blonde head in his lap. Ethan eventually pulls up outside my place, and we're still quiet when he turns the car off. I stare dejectedly out the windshield before I turn and open my door. Ethan immediately gets out with me, already around by my door when I shut it. Even wearing my red, six inch stilettos he overpowers me, and stops me on the sidewalk.

"Chanel, I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking. You mean more to me than I ever thought you could, and I would take it all back." He sounds anxious, and when I finally look at his face, it's so twisted with worry, my heart crushes further.

"Don't apologize Ethan, you and I aren't together," I say, and we both look unhappy. We were definitely something .

"Look, I get it. You're trying to make yourself feel whole again after being so broken... and I can appreciate that. I want you happy," I say, and he looks like I just told him his cat died. I sigh heavily and look at the ground.

"But I have to be honest... this hurts a lot."

"Chanel, you can't know how sorry I am."

"Did what we have mean anything to you?" I ask, keeping my voice soft.

"Yes!" he immediately answers. "Of course Chanel, you know you mean a lot to me."

"Why weren't you honest with me about what you wanted?" I ask, which might be the most pressing question. That's one thing we have been committed to through this whole endeavor; the truth.

"I was being honest with you, there was nothing to tell; I wasn't looking for anything with anyone else."

"Then why'd you do it?" I ask the million dollar question, and he sighs and doesn't speak for a moment.

"It was nice seeing someone from my past. It reminded me of who I was before Nicole, and the nostalgia was comforting. When I dropped her off at her house-" he starts, and picturing it makes my nerves tremor violently. "-I knew she wanted to hook up with me. I told her I had to leave, and she wouldn't get out of my car, and before I knew it...Chanel, after it happened, I felt sick with myself. You were all I could think about, you're still all I think about. I disrespected the relationship you and I have, and I regret it," he says, and it is a little comforting knowing that girl had to seduce him into it.

"That's all that happened?" I ask, and he nods quickly.

"Yes, nothing else. I haven't even talked to her since that night, well, with the exception of earlier. Chanel, I'm sorry that it took me giving my attention to someone else, for me to realize that I only want to give it to you." His words soothe the burn, and part of me knows he's telling the truth. Still, how can I be sure he won't want another girl again later? Or the same one? I guess no one can ever be sure. I sigh again.

"Ethan, neither of us are perfect and... I can forgive you," I say, and he looks hopeful. "But it sounds like you need some time to yourself," I say, and he's already shaking his head.

"I know what I want now," Ethan says, his piercing eyes conveying I'm the object of his interest. Now .

"What exactly do you want from me?" I ask, looking up at him in the dim light from the street lamps.

"Whatever you'll give me," he answers, without having to think about it. What does that mean? This is frustrating. He's had time to think about his actions, and I'm only just processing this.

"I'm think I need some time alone," I say, twisting my earlier words, knowing that needs to be the next step. I need a different perspective before we talk about this anymore. He stares at me sadly and nods, accepting it.

"Promise me you'll go home and think about what you really want," I say.

"I want you," he says softly, and I swallow hard, his words bittersweet.

"Promise me," I repeat, and he nods.

"Whatever you want," he says genuinely, and it makes me want to scream.

"Goodbye Ethan," I say, and take a step past him before he grabs my arm.

"When will I see you again?" he asks, and the feeling of his large body so close when I'm so angry drives me nuts.

"I'll call you," I say and pause, looking at his sad face. Before I give in to the urge to touch him, I pull away, leaving him behind. I can't believe how fast this night turned south. The second I step into my empty pad, I slide to the floor feeling my face tingle, and a tear escapes. I concentrate on the wetness in my eyes, trying to distract myself from the images I don't want to see. Of course I expected pain like this if the situation ever arose, I like Ethan, but I wasn't looking too much into it. I didn't think he would get psychical with anyone else, considering he'd probably trip if I did. He's made that pretty clear since we started up again. Hell, he punched his own friend in the face for touching me last week.

I thought what we had was different, and I assumed he felt the same. I know we never labeled our relationship out loud, but the betrayal is very real. He fooled around with another girl while we were exploring how we felt about each other. We were more than just friends. I wipe my face and clear my throat, trying to get a grip. I need to put myself in his position. I can't say how I would feel getting divorced after an affair; I've never even been married, but I imagine I would want to do anything to feel free again. That must be what he's doing. Keeping everyone at a distance while he figures out the next move in his life. I don't fucking know, all I know is it hurts. Ethan ripped out my insides and took them with him, and when I kick off my shoes and crawl my injured morale to the couch, that's where I stay.