Page 80 of Aaron's Patience

“Stop.”

I rose my gaze to meet his.

“We’ll get back to that soon but you need to eat.”

I narrowed my eyes, finally remembering my anger. I checked to see if my hands were bound. They weren’t. I raised my hand up, ready to smack the hell out of Aaron, but it was caught in his stronger hand. I found myself flipped over onto my back, arm raised above my head, him over me.

“We’ve played this game before.” His voice was full of warning. “You already know how it ends.”

I breathed heavily, chest heaving up and down.

“With you calling my name, your pussy walls milking my cock for all I’m worth. We’ll get to that, but first you need to eat,” he growled, moving from over me back to his side of the bed.

“I’m not hungry,” I spat out but in the ensuing silence my stomach betrayed me, growling loudly. I didn’t say anything and avoided his eye contact. “I don’t know what possessed you to think you could keep me in bed all day like I was some kind of prisoner but I’m not!” I rose out of the bed, coming to stand beside it, staring down at Aaron. I had to hold on to the edge of the nightstand when my legs wobbled. “I’m going to shower and pick up the kids from Michelle and Carter and take them to the zoo like I promised!” I hissed. Before he could retort, I grabbed my robe off the floor, using it to cover my nude body, and made a beeline for the bathroom.

Once inside I ripped off my robe and stepped into the shower, hoping it would help cool me off. But that was a total failure. The warm water streaming down my already sensitized flesh caused goosebumps to cover my arms. I glanced up toward the bathroom entrance and standing there, legs crossed, chest bared in his usual plaid pajama bottoms was the man who left me feeling like an exposed nerve. Our eyes caught and the memory of him coming into the shower just to hold me as I cried over my father, a few weeks prior, assaulted me. My knees began to tremble when he strolled to the shower door, slowly sliding it open.

I gave little protest, as he lowered his pajama bottoms, his semi-hard cock springing out, and he kicked them aside to enter the shower with me.

“I won’t take you in here. Shower sex has never been my favorite.” His voice was so low and deep. “I just needed to be near you.”

Everything in me squeezed tightly. My heart blossomed at the vulnerability in his voice at his admission.

“Why?” I whispered, not looking up at him.

“Because I love you.”

I slumped back against the shower wall, needing something to hold my body upright. That was the first time I ever heard him utter those three words. I just knew I was imagining it, but he said it again.

“I love you.”

And again.

“I love you.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then the tip of my nose, and then my lips before moving backwards, granting me space. He stared down at me.

In another time and another place I would’ve said those three words back to him. But not then. I couldn’t. Not after last time.

“You don’t have to say it.” He lifted the loofah that rested next to my favorite body wash and used it to wash me from head to toe. I did the same for him with his own washcloth. By the time we got out of the shower the entire bathroom was steamed up. He dried my body before ordering me to hold out my arms for him to place my robe on.

Once back in the bedroom the smell of food permeated, tearing another round of growling from my stomach. At the center of our bed, stood a Rosewood tea tray, holding a box of pizza and seltzer water. I grinned as I climbed onto the bed. Surprising me, instead of going to his side of the bed, Aaron climbed in behind me, pressing our bodies together. He pressed his semi-hard cock against the curve of my ass. I gasped.

“Later,” he growled in my ear, before reaching over me to hand me a paper plate. He placed a slice of plain pizza—my favorite—on top. I smiled when I saw the other half of the pizza covered in green peppers and mushrooms. Both his and Kyle’s favorite.

We ate in silence for a little while but something kept nagging at me. It kept my anger in place, though I wanted to let it go.

“What is it?” he questioned.

“What’s what?” I replied, narrowing my gaze at him.

“Something’s on your mind.”

I tutted, shaking my head. “I hate it when you do that.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Watching me to read my thoughts. You always di–” I paused, not wanting to dredge up the past.

“What I always did,” he finished for me. “I watch everything that belongs to me.”