Page 13 of Lust & Lies

AIDEN

WITH CLEAN CLOTHES in hand, I trudged down the hall, the aftermath of what I'd done in my office still slick against my skin, dripping down my thigh, clinging to my pants. I was a fucking mess, physically and mentally.

I should’ve had more control. Should’ve shut the damn screen off the second she moaned my name. I still couldn’t believe she’d moaned my name. She’d been thinking of me while touching herself, wanting me, needing me.

I shook my head. That didn’t matter. I still shouldn’t have watched her. Turning the cameras on had been a mistake. Secretly watching her touch herself while jacking off like a fucking addict? That had been reckless, a lapse in judgment.

It wouldn’t happen again. It couldn’t. That wasn’t what the cameras were for. If she found out I had surveillance in every room of the house... shit. She’d lose it. She’d probably try to kill me.

Inside the bathroom, I peeled off my clothes, the fabric of my pants sticking to my thighs. Fuck! I tossed everything in the hamper, turned on the shower, climbed in, and let the water hit me hard and fast.

I didn’t mind the initial chill as I adjusted the temperature. I needed to cool down. Jerking off might’ve taken the edge off, but it didn’t fix shit. My body still wanted her, craved her. And I still couldn’t have her. Not yet.

I grabbed a small towel, lathered it, and began scrubbing my body like it was a crime scene and I was trying to get rid of the evidence. That was probably the fastest I’d ever showered.

I didn’t want to be away from her too long. Even now, I was anxious, wondering what she was doing. This was a feeling that wouldn’t leave until the doctor determined whether her memory loss was temporary or permanent.

Once I’d toweled dry and got dressed, I grabbed a small cloth from the cabinet, wet it under the faucet, and headed back to my office. I wiped my desk first, dragging the damp towel over the wood, then I cleaned around my keyboard.

I saved the security pad for last. I scrubbed around the buttons, especially the corners where my release had splattered and settled into the edges. I sighed as I cleaned. What grown man nuts all over his desk?

I laughed under my breath, still not believing what the hell I’d just done. With everything cleaned, I returned the towel to the bathroom hamper and washed my hands. While drying them, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the man before me.

He was me. I was him. But I’d changed so much in the last few years. I was only now returning to the man I used to be, and that was thanks to her, Noe. I was a better man when I was with her. I was a better person, period.

The better version of me only existed when she was in my life. Without her? Jaw clenching, I closed my eyes, not wanting to think about what I’d been like without her.

The wild nights. The pain. The liquor. The blood. The death.

I slowly opened my eyes and met my own gaze. I wasn’t that man anymore. I would never return to being that man. As long as I had her, I never had to face that darkness again. And with me by her side, I’d make sure she didn’t have to return to a past best forgotten.

Securing our future wouldn’t be easy. But it would be worth it. As long as I could keep my family away, and as long as her memory didn’t return in full, we should be okay. Another sigh escaped me as I thought of all the things that could go wrong, that could ruin my plan.

I wasn’t a religious man, but I found myself bowing my head anyway, quietly begging the universe for a break. Just this once. Let us have this. Let us be okay. Protect us from motherfuckers who kept trying to fuck up what we could have.

Would a prayer whispered by me be answered? Probably not. I didn’t deserve that kind of grace. But I prayed anyway. After splashing water on my face and drying it, I left the bathroom in search of my wife.

I found her in the garden sitting room, curled up with a book, legs tucked underneath her, soft light drifting into the room, making her look magical. I stood in the doorway, drinking in the sight of her.

Mine. This woman was all mine.

I did not want to share her with anyone else. I did not want to explain our situation to others. I did not want to defend the decisions I’d made. I did not want to be judged for my actions and the lengths I’d gone to in order to keep her safe and by my side.

If I had to do it all over again, I would. I didn’t regret it. I just hoped it didn’t all come crashing down around me in the future. Pushing that fear aside, I cleared my throat to get her attention. She looked up when I walked into the room, eyes raking down my body.

“You changed clothes,” she mused with a smirk.

“I wanted to be in something more comfortable,” I lied.

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “Just admit you jacked off.”

I choked on air, completely unprepared for that response. My reaction made her laugh. I pulled myself together.

“You could’ve let me save face,” I managed once I caught my breath.

“I’m too petty for that. Did it feel good?”

“Did yours?” I threw back, hoping to throw her off guard, too.

She nodded, still grinning. “Yes, it felt good. Tasted good too.”

My smile faded as I remembered her sliding her finger into her mouth, tasting her essence. I swallowed, cock waking up from its nap.

She winked, then asked, “How did yours taste?”

“What? I didn’t taste my own nut, Noe,” I told her.

“Oh. Well, mine tasted a little like honey and cinnamon. Is that what I tasted like to you in the past?”

This motherfucker!

I stood staring at her, mouth open, not knowing what to say.

“I’m going to my office to work on some emails,” I ground out, already turning back the way I’d come.

“Have fun,” she called after me, her laughter trailing behind me, taunting me. “If you jerk off again, be sure to taste it and tell me what it tastes like. I want to know, since you won’t let me taste it for myself.”

I stopped and glared over my shoulder at her. She’d resumed reading her book, lips still curled in a slight smile. Yeah, she knew what she was doing. My wife was indeed petty. Shaking my head, I stormed away from her, her words still echoing in my head.

Back in my office, I dropped into my chair and stared at the far wall. Everything in me was still buzzing from my brief conversation with her. She had no shame. Never had. Memory or no memory, she was still the same woman.

She still had the same attitude and inability to let anything slide. And I was still the same man. So why the hell had I run from her words instead of tossing out some witty retorts of my own?

Now that I was no longer in front of her, my mind was coming up with all types of replies to her comments. However, when I was standing in front of her, watching her say those things, ask those questions, it was like I’d lost my voice.

I could blame it on her sinful smile, her sexy body, or how sultry she’d sounded when she said she tasted good.

But the ultimate reason I’d been frozen was because her words had me rock hard again, and I’d been considering bending her over and tasting it for myself to see if she was telling the truth.

Honey and cinnamon.

Mouth watering, I cursed under my breath and leaned forward, elbows on the desk, eyes on the security pad. I shouldn’t open it again. I knew that. There was no need to watch her right now.

I knew where she was. I knew what she was doing. I’d already gone too far once today. There was no need to spy on her again. I gritted my teeth. I had work to catch up on. Phone calls to make. Documents to review.

Fuck it!

I had a problem. I was an addict. I needed to see her crazy ass. I tapped the screen and clicked the garden room icon. There she was, curled up in the armchair near the window, legs folded, book in hand.

Right where she was supposed to be. After saying all those naughty things to me, she had the nerve to look peaceful. But I couldn’t get mad because peace looked good on her. I watched her turn a page.

She chuckled at something she read. It took me a second to realize I was smiling too. My older brother used to swear that my mood was tied to hers. If she was upset, I was upset. If she was happy, I was happy.

When she was sad, I was sad. When she looked ready to kill, I was ready to kill. I guess he was right. She was at peace. So, for now, I could be at peace, too. Yet, I didn’t know how long this peace would last.

I wanted to keep her smiling. I wanted to keep her happy. I wanted her to have quiet mornings and easy afternoons. I wanted her nights to be spent wrapped in my arms, safe. I wanted her to be able to relax with a good book whenever she wanted to.

I wanted her to spend her days gardening or just relaxing in the sun. I didn’t want her to worry about anything. I’d take care of everything else. All she had to do was be happy, safe, and mine. And she could be that here.

Yet, a tiny voice at the back of my mind kept screaming this wasn’t real. It kept whispering that this was an illusion. It kept trying to convince me that she wouldn’t appreciate any of what I was doing if she had her memory back.

I ignored it. I would make this our new reality, and we would make new memories, even if I had to lie, kill, and steal to do so. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to make this second chance with the love of my life succeed.

My eyes darted to the clock. Lunch had slipped by, and she'd barely touched her plate. She might still be hungry. I needed an excuse to be near her again anyway. An addict couldn’t be away from their drug of choice for long.

And she was indeed the drug I was addicted to. Food would make the perfect excuse to return to her side. Food and a movie. The movie would allow me to stay close to her longer. She loved action movies with a hint of romance.

Not too much romance, though. According to her, too much romance took away from the action and suspense. She also liked her action movies to have a hint of comedy. The last movie we watched together had made her laugh until she cried.

Food and a movie should definitely ease some of the tension between us. I stood, unchecked emails and unread documents forgotten, and headed for the kitchen. The counter was still a mess from earlier.

I grabbed a few paper towels and started cleaning. Once I had the kitchen looking good again, I reheated two bowls of food. Mine first, then hers, so that it could be hot enough for her when I made it to the garden room.

To avoid carrying two hot bowls through the house, I grabbed a tray from the cabinet and placed both bowls on it. We’d need something to wash the food down with, so I placed two bottles of water on the tray, silverware, and a few napkins.

Everything looked good to go. I walked back to the garden room with the tray in hand. She looked up when I stepped inside, and there it was again, that smile.

“What’s this?” she asked, setting her book on the end table beside her.

“We didn’t finish eating earlier. I thought you may still be a little hungry.”

“I am,” she admitted, voice sultry as sin.

When her gaze met mine again, I damn near dropped what I was holding. The look in her eyes made me wonder if she was hungry for food or for me. She licked her lips. My cock throbbed.

Gentleman. I’m a fucking gentleman. Be a fucking gentleman, Aiden. You have a plan. Stick to it.

Tearing my eyes away from my drug, I placed the tray on the end table, then touched her bowl to test the temperature. It wasn’t too hot to hold.

“I can get up and get it,” she said as I brought her items to her.

“Why would you do that when I’m willing to do it for you?” I asked, handing her the bowl and silverware she needed.

“Thanks,” she murmured, her hand brushing mine as she leaned forward to accept her items.

Her breasts brushed the side of my arm, and the warmth of her breath caressed my neck when she exhaled slowly. My gaze snapped to hers. The look in her eyes... Fuck. This woman would be the death of me.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Park?” I asked, noting the way her thumb brushed mine as she pulled away from me with her bowl.

“Of course, not. Mr. Park,” she replied, settling back into her seat and blowing on her food to cool it.

My gaze dropped to her lips. I swallowed. Her lips curved into a smile. I lifted my eyes to find her watching me.

“See something you like, Mr. Park?”

“I see something I love, Mrs. Park.”

Her cheeks heated in embarrassment. Blushing, she looked away and said, “Okay, you won this round.”

I chuckled. “What’s the score?”

“Let me think,” she stated, facing forward again to stir her food as I moved to get my bowl. “We were tied, one to one. Now you’re ahead, two to one.” She frowned. “Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to even things out again. I may even take the lead before the day is over.”

She would definitely try to do that with her competitive ass. I watched her eat, so fucking happy that she was here. After forking a bite of food into her mouth, she raised her eyes to mine and found me watching.

Mid-chew, she paused and blew me a kiss before resuming eating. I couldn’t stop my smile from widening. Just yesterday at the hospital, she wouldn’t even look at me. It was like pulling teeth to get her to talk to me.

Now, she was blowing me kisses and flirting with me. Damn. I missed this. Even with her memory gone, her quirky traits were quickly returning. I loved that. I just hoped their return wasn’t a signal that her memories would soon follow.

I needed more time with her, time to build something solid, something that could outlast a storm of secrets and lies. Something that could survive the anger she’d feel once she realized what I’d done.

This was my last chance to secure a future with the woman I loved. My last chance to make her fall in love with me again. And I needed that to happen before she remembered that I wasn’t her husband.