Page 45

EMORY

I walk in that night to see Aiden on the couch, glasses on and wearing a linen shirt that he’s cuffed at the elbows.

He’s reading a massive volume that looks too heavy to hold, so he rests it against his drawn-up knees.

Those pouty lips are frowning and his brows are pulled low as he flips another page.

My heart pushes against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in my chest. He’s so handsome. I lied the other day in the gym. He melted me into the floor. He’s the best I’ve ever had. I want him again with a fierceness that defies reason, and I suspect he wants me to beg.

The soft snick of the door behind me makes him lift his head. I see the shadows clear from his eyes as he blinks at me.

“No music tonight?” I toe off my shoes while he watches.

“Not tonight. My brain isn’t buzzing the way it usually is.” He stands, unfolding from the couch with animal grace that makes my mouth go dry. “Did you eat?”

I freeze. That’s a husband’s question. My heart only increases its pace. “Not yet.”

He makes a softly disapproving sound and pulls a plate from inside the oven. “Lasagna,” he says, passing it across the counter.

“That wasn’t on the menu tonight.” In my throat are words left unsaid. Why? Why are you like this? Protective when I wish he weren’t, caring when I wish he’d stop.

Good thing I don’t like it. Liking it would be worse. Depending on him would be unbearable.

He lifts one shoulder. “Special order.” His gaze flicks over my outfit—a black dress and five-inch heels. There’s banked heat when our gazes meet, and for one brief, stomach-twisting moment, I think he’s going to back me against the counter.

“Eat,” he says instead, and drops back onto the couch.

I settle on the opposite side of the couch with my plate, ignoring his brow raise that says he doesn’t approve of food on the furniture but he’ll let it slide. Dusty trots over, nosing my feet and wagging his tail, and ultimately wedging himself between us.

“What are you reading?”

He holds up the book. It’s a fantasy novel I know he read in high school.

“I know that one.”

His gaze sharpens. “You do?”

I nod. “I checked it out of the school library after you returned it.” Teenage Emory had wanted any scrap of Aiden she could get.

He looks puzzled, before a smile tugs at his mouth. “Trying to figure me out?”

My stomach flips. “Always,” I say honestly, then shove a forkful of lasagna into my mouth before I can admit to more teenage weakness.

He makes a considering sound in his throat before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded piece of newsprint.

“You know the answer to this one?”

He slides me this morning’s crossword. It’s Thursday, which I know he can solve, and each answer is carefully filled in with black pen. I teased him about using pen the first time we did this, and he simply responded that he only writes things down once he’s sure.

For some reason, that arrogant self-assuredness made my body tighten.

Luxurious and deadly, the clue reads.

I snag the pen he’s holding out and fill in the answer. I know he knows it. He’s watching me with a curling smile on his mouth and an evil glint in his eyes. I drop the completed crossword on the couch before I take my plate and stand.

“I’ll just take this to my room,” I say hurriedly.

“See you tomorrow.” His voice is low and velvety.

Lust . The clue was lust.

I wake in the night with sweat slicking my skin and shreds of a dream fluttering just out of reach.

Judging by the pulsing between my legs, it was a dirty dream.

I shut my eyes, willing my body to calm, before I swing my legs to the floor and slip into the hallway.

I just need a glass of water, and then I will very quietly grab my vibrator and scream into a pillow.

I pad around the kitchen on silent feet.

Moonlight slices in through the ocean-facing windows.

If I opened the door, I know I’d smell salt on the air.

As I move around the house, it feels like nighttime magic is at work.

The moonbeams illuminate the shelving where Aiden keeps his glassware, and I move through the room on light feet, imagining myself alone.

Until I turn and see him —a byproduct of that same magic. He must be, with the way he’s cloaked in shadow and watching me from the other side of the island. His eyes still gleam green-gold in the dark, like a predator.

I take a sip of water, my throat working.

He watches. His hand flexes where it rests on the counter.

My gaze travels up his wrist, tracing the veins in his arms, then the heavy curve of muscle at his shoulder, the dip of his collarbone, the crease of his throat.

He smelled good right there. He felt even better, all heated strength and muscles that gave under my nails.

Warmth winds its way through my stomach.

I remember the fantasy I told him about in the gym. The one where he pushes me against the wall and we come together with gasping breaths and shaking limbs.

I want it.

I know he wants it too, but I’m also certain he won’t ask.

I’m wearing underwear and an ancient Yale t-shirt. My nipples are peaked under the thin fabric, and his gaze snags on my chest.

I set my glass down on the counter, my pulse pounding in my throat and between my legs, before I grip the hem of the t-shirt and pull it over my head. I hold his gaze as I drop it on the floor.

His nostrils flare. His hand flattens against the counter. I turn and start to walk from the room, but not before I glance back at him and raise both brows.

He’s on me before I’m four steps into the darkened hallway. He presses me to the wall with his weight. I arch into the muscles of his chest, the warm cage of his arms. His teeth graze my shoulder, then bite down gently, sending shockwaves of sensation through me.

His hips push insistently into mine, his erection hot and throbbing against the small of my back, and I wriggle against him.

I’m rewarded by a rough groan. His arm winds around my stomach, his hand reaching, then finding my nipple.

He rolls it between his fingers. I moan as the sharp pinch melts into pleasure.

I barely have time to draw breath before his other hand is slipping between my legs, finding how wet I am. I expect a comment, but instead his teeth dig into my shoulder and he slicks his fingers through me before he starts to circle my clit.

“One more time,” I gasp, as the tug and release of need starts low in my stomach.

He doesn’t respond, just continues those torturously light flicks of his finger. I push against him, needing more friction, needing more of him, my thoughts fracturing.

“Tell me you liked it,” he finally says when I’m panting.

“What?” I can’t focus on words with how close I am. That dream must have done half his work for him, though I suspect it was him in the dream.

The heavy silk of his hair is cool against the side of my neck.

“If you want more, you have to tell me you liked it.” His fingers get rougher, finally giving me what I need.

“I can feel how much you’re enjoying this,” he warns, as if he knows I’d lie rather than let him in.

He licks the side of my neck and follows it with a pinch to my clit that makes me writhe.

“I liked it,” I whisper, relief quickly following the confession. I’m so tired of fighting the need for Aiden. “Just one more time.”

“My way,” he grunts. “We do this my way.”

“What does that—” My words choke off as his weight leaves my back and he sinks to his knees. His palm lands on my ass, the other at the curve of my spine. He presses my stomach to the cool plaster of the wall, tilts my hips, and buries his mouth between my legs.

The first hot swipe of his tongue makes me shake.

His mouth is perfect. Slippery, clever, and insistent, not backing off as he licks me and the pleasure builds in coils.

His sounds of enjoyment vibrate against my skin, low groans when he feels me clenching around nothing, then muffled praise as I relax into the wall.

I want to come so badly. My legs are shaking and my pussy is fluttering. I’m so fucking close and Aiden won’t—

I sob in frustration as he pulls back and stands. There’s a rip of foil and then him . His thick cock is slicking through the wetness between my legs, pressing to my entrance. He pauses, his breath shuddering out.

“Yes?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He pushes inside, just an inch, stretching me. This position makes it tighter than it was in the gym, a slow claiming that has me scrabbling my nails against the wall. It’s delicious, though, feeling all of him like this, overwhelming me, invading me.

“You’re tall enough for this,” he says softly. “Take me, gorgeous.”

I don’t know what to make of the words, so I don’t respond. His palm lands on my stomach, rubbing and soothing and easing me on to his cock.

I’m already coming by the time he sinks all the way in, the pleasure bursting like a dam, a euphoria I can’t control. He groans as I clench around him.

I expect him to fuck me hard, especially positioned like this, so much at his mercy, so unable to move that I tremble from the idea that he can do whatever he wants.

Whatever he wants turns out to be nothing like I expected. Each roll of his hips is punctuated with soft strokes of his hands, like he’s savoring me, and rough-soft words that might be praise and might be commands.

“So fucking wet for me,” as he bucks up into me.

“You can take it,” as I come again, clawing at the wall and writhing on his dick.

My every sense is full of Aiden, but worse, I can feel him creeping into my heart and laying claim. Just to the tiniest portion. Five measly cells with his name scrawled across it in that confident hand. In pen, of course, because once he’s certain of something, he writes it down.

His grip is firm but never cruel, his words rough but never mean, and when he comes, he buries his face in my neck and groans.

“So fucking good,” he murmurs.

I’m drifting on pleasure, too limp to speak, too blissed out to think.

“So fucking good between us,” he says again. “Knew it would be.” His voice is rough and low in my ear. “Knew it would be, pretty girl.”

When he slips out, he stays, his heartbeat thundering against my back, and for a brief moment, I think he’s going to ask me to sleep in his bed.

He doesn’t in the end. Just kisses me on the shoulder and heads upstairs.

That’s okay. I didn’t want it anyway.