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The sound of him drawing in a sharp breath brought my head up.
And his eyes were on my body and the way the dress stuck to me, leaving little to the imagination.
I flushed and tried to draw my cardigan closed.
Aidan grabbed my hand and looked away, but I saw the flush of red high on his cheeks.
My nipples were already hard from the cold and the wet, and now my breasts felt swollen, high, and tight.
Run, Nora, run!
I didn’t run. I let Aidan lead me silently into the elevator. Once inside I let go of his hand as gently as possible, not wanting to hurt his feelings.
“You can take a hot shower while I find some dry clothes of mine that’ll do while I put your dress in the dryer.” He stared stonily ahead.
“That’s kind of you,” I said.
We sounded like strangers.
But the electricity between us in that elevator crackled and sparked so much, I was shocked my hair didn’t frizz.
When the elevator door opened, we both moved to leave first, and I ended up walking into his side, my breasts pressed up against him. Aidan winced as if in pain and gripped my biceps a little too tightly as he removed me from his person before I could remove myself.
“I was going to open the door,” he explained.
For a moment, I looked up at him, the blood rushing so hot inside of me, I could feel my rationale and common sense flying out the window. Whatever he saw in my expression opened the lock he’d had on his desire, and it blazed at me from his eyes.
“Door,” I whispered, reminding him.
He nodded, his features strained with tension, as he marched out of the elevator and across the hall.
As soon as I walked into his apartment I felt winded, like someone had kicked me in the gut. It was almost as if by crossing the threshold, I’d been hurtled back in time eighteen months ago. A dining table and chairs were now set up where the small music studio had been, but otherwise, it was the same.
My eyes flew to Aidan who had stopped and turned when I’d halted to take in the space. His longing matched my own when our gazes connected. He was remembering too.
I remembered how much I loved him.
Needed him.
Wanted to crawl so deep inside him, we wouldn’t be able to tell each other apart.
And right then, with lust pumping through my veins and tears of the past in my eyes, those feelings weren’t ducking for cover.
They were consuming.
Aidan cleared his throat. “The shower in the master suite is more powerful. You can use that. There are clean towels in there. Leave your …” he looked away, “clothes outside the bathroom door and I’ll stick them in the dryer while you shower. I’ll put a dry T-shirt or something outside for you.”
Somehow, I nodded. Somehow, I slipped off my ballet flats so as not to traipse my muddy footprints across his floors. Somehow, I walked past him and down the hall. But the farther my cold, bare feet took me, the more wrong it felt to be parted from him.
My body felt tight, wanton, and dissatisfied with the distance.
More than dissatisfied.
Uncooperative with the distance.
Looking back on it, I don’t know what came over me.
I think I was exhausted with fighting something that I longed for.
Entering his bedroom, that tight, coiling sensation of need in the pit of my stomach worsened. The room smelled of him, and he hadn’t made his bed that morning. The vision of him sprawled there, naked, caused a flip low and hungry in my belly.
I walked over to the bathroom and pushed open the door. The shower cubicle was much bigger than the one in the family bathroom out in the hall, and I shivered, looking forward to feeling the hot water sluice over me. But I wanted more than that. I didn’t have the words or the power to use the words, still afraid of saying them out loud.
I stripped out of my clothes in the threshold of the bathroom and left them on the floor.
I kept the door open.
Wide open.
I reached into the shower and switched it on, waited for the hot water to come on, and stepped inside, closing the glass cubicle door behind me. When I turned around, I could see right out into the bedroom.
My heart pounded. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud Thud. Thud Thud Thud. Thud Thud Thud Thud Thud. Faster and harder.
Then my breath caught as Aidan came into my line of sight. He gave me his profile at first, and I could see the little frown between his brows. Then he tensed, and I knew he’d caught sight of me in his peripheral. When he turned, first his eyes went to my pile of clothing on the floor and then slowly, they rose. They dragged up my body.
I washed my breasts and shivered as Aidan watched me.
Finally, our eyes met.
His so fierce with need, I felt my legs wobble.
Still, I continued, using his shampoo and conditioner to wash my hair, and I luxuriated in the way he was hypnotized by my breasts as they bounced with the movement.
His erection pushed against the zipper on his jeans and I grew slick between my legs.
Once I was clean, my skin hot from the water and arousal, I turned off the shower, squeezed the water out of my hair, and stepped out. The cold air prickled over my skin, making me shiver, making my nipples bead into tight buds.
And Aidan drank in every inch of me.
Goosebumps broke out all over my skin at his perusal.
I didn’t feel insecure or too young anymore.
I felt bold and needy and desired.
“Aidan,” I whispered.
Everything he wanted to hear was in that one word, and suddenly, he was unbuttoning his shirt. Relief moved through me. I wouldn’t be forced to say the words I couldn’t, but I was going to get what I wanted anyway.
I watched as he undressed, his eyes never leaving me, and a little whimper escaped me when his hard cock was revealed, straining toward his belly, hot, throbbing, and desperate for me.
I did that.
Me.
“Get on the bed, Pixie. And spread your legs.”
His hoarse demand might as well have been his tongue on my clit for the way my body responded. Limbs shaking with desire, I walked by him, torturously close, and climbed onto his bed, giving him an eyeful of my ass before I turned around and lay on my back.
A spike of vulnerability, of nerves, halted me from opening my legs.
“Legs. Now.”
I bit my lips on a smile. “No please?”
“I’m grappling to take this slow, Pixie,” he admitted.
I opened my legs.
He appeared, approaching the bed, and I felt a rush of wet as he looked at me there, hunger on his face. Unexpectedly, he didn’t take what I was offering. He crawled over my body and hands braced on the mattress on either side of my head, he looked down at me.
“Aidan?”
“Are you really here, Pixie?”
Not sure if that question was loaded with more than those simple words, I reached up to cup his cheek in my hand, rubbing my thumb over the bristle there like I used to. “Let’s forget everything else and just have this. I feel like I might shake apart if you don’t come inside me.”
“Fuck,” he groaned and bent his head to take my mouth. The kiss was impatiently hard. I moved my lips beneath his, our tongues stroking one another in deep tangles that mimicked what our bodies wanted to do. My hips tilted toward his in want.
I gripped Aidan’s waist as the kiss grew rough and breathless; I whimpered again as his hips moved against mine and his erection skated, teased across my belly. He released my mouth only for his lips to whisper across my chin, down my jaw, like he couldn’t rest easy until they had touched everywhere. He kissed his way down my body, his mouth hot, hungry, and I held on, caressing his muscled back, sliding my hands up toward his shoulder blades and into his hair as he moved downward.
When the Saharan heat of his mouth closed around my right nipple, my hips slammed against his in reaction. My thighs gripped him as I urged him closer, my back arching for more as he first licked me and then sucked hard, all the while pinching my other nipple between his forefinger and thumb.
I felt a wet rush between my legs.
He lifted his head, his eyes forest green as he undulated against me, his cock between my legs now, kissing my throbbing heat. “More, wee Pixie, or straight to the finale?”
As much as I longed for it, I wanted him to have what he wanted. “You know you want to torture me, you bastard,” I groaned, needy. “So why ask?”