One Unforgettable Weekend (Millionaires 0f Manhattan Book 6)

by Andrea Laurence

  Aidan slipped the latex over the length of his desire and returned his lips to hers. His hands caressed her breasts, her rib cage, then slid down her side to her hips, where his fingertips pressed into the ample flesh of her rear. He held her perfectly still as he slowly moved forward. When he was fully buried in her welcoming warmth, he let out a ragged breath of relief.

  He’d thought he’d never experience this divine feeling with Violet again and yet against all odds, she was in his bed. He hadn’t expected it or planned for it when he’d walked in the front door that night, and yet here he was, reliving his fantasy with her.

  Violet drew her legs up and wrapped them around his hips, pulling him deeper. Aidan let out a groan, smothering it against her lips.

  “Give me everything you’ve got,” Violet whispered with a twinkle of mischief in her dark eyes.

  Aidan didn’t hesitate to fill her request. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight and still against him as he began thrusting hard into her. Again and again he pounded into her body to the chorus of Violet’s muffled cries. She buried her face in his neck to stifle the sounds, alternating between moans and sharp nips against his throat.

  It was all too much for him to take—overstimulation to the max. As much as he wanted to hold on, to make this moment last all night, he couldn’t maintain this for much longer. She was too beautiful, it felt too good and his senses were on overload. He was counting down to his climax, but before he could give into it, he felt Violet start to squirm and buck her hips hard against him. He responded in kind, thrusting harder and faster until he felt her start to tense and finally come undone beneath him.

  At last she broke into a silent scream as she clawed at his back. Her head went back and her body bowed up against his, then began to shudder and writhe with her pleasurable spasms. Her inner muscles clamped down on Aidan and before he could stop himself, he found his own release inside of her.

  Then, just as quickly as the moment had come upon him, it was over. After hovering over her, breathing hard in his recovery, Aidan rolled onto his back and pulled away. Snuggling was nice, but leaking condoms were not. He needed to deal with that. And then...he realized he wasn’t quite sure what to do after that point.

  Their constant live wire of sexual tension had propelled them forward faster than their burgeoning relationship called for. After taking that leap to intimacy, where did that leave them? Were they dating now? Was it a onetime thing? Would she want him to stay in the bed with her or would the awkwardness fill the space that had once held passion? Aidan wanted to avoid an embarrassing situation between them at all costs. They would be spending the next week together in close quarters no matter what happened tonight.

  Finally he got up and went to the bathroom to clean up. That was step one. He’d worry about the rest after that. When he returned to the bedroom, he grabbed a pillow and a pair of jogging shorts to take with him to the sofa. That was easier than asking if she wanted him to go.

  “Where are you going?” Violet asked, still naked and strewn temptingly across his mattress.

  Aidan shrugged. “To sleep on the couch.”

  Violet arched a brow at him and chuckled as she pushed up onto her elbows. “Do you really think that’s a necessary precaution after everything that just happened between us?”

  That was a good question. A part of him was relieved that she didn’t expect him to leave. But he had promised her this room and that he would sleep on the couch when they discussed staying here. He didn’t intend to break his word, but with her lying naked in his bed, tangled in his sheets with swollen lips and tousled hair, he didn’t really want to walk away, either.

  To be honest, he wanted her again. Slowly. A second chance to take his time and indulge his every sense in her body. By the light of morning, everything might change and he needed to make the most of this while he could. “I don’t know,” he answered.

  “You get back into this bed right now!” she demanded at his hesitation. Then she smiled with the wicked glint returning to her eyes. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  This time he was all too happy to comply.

  Six

  Violet was having a hard time focusing today.

  Aidan was in the office going over plans and paperwork for his grant and she couldn’t concentrate on the task at hand. Not with him looking at her so seductively and smelling like her favorite tasty treat—him. All she could think about was burying her face in his throat, tasting his skin and drawing his distinctly male scent into her lungs.

  Practically, she knew she should regret last night, but she had a hard time making herself feel that way. It didn’t feel like a mistake to give into her desires for Aidan. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Their time together in the past had been so amazing it was difficult to deny herself something she knew they both wanted. They’d wanted it enough to succumb to temptation four times that night before the sun came up. Every movement of her body brought an achy reminder of their time together.

  Then again, their situation was more complicated than it had been the first time they came together. She tried not to let herself go down the rabbit hole of wondering what it would mean if they continued to see each other, and how they would handle other people finding out about them. Violet had no concerns about Aidan’s background, job or financial situation, but she knew others would feel differently. Like her parents. Their friends. She wanted to protect Aidan from the uglier parts of her social circles—the ones that would judge and whisper about him. They did it about everyone for one reason or another, but he would be fresh meat for the gossipmongers. He didn’t deserve to be dragged through the mud just for being with Violet.

  But really, there was no “them,” so her worries were premature. Yes, they shared a child and for a short period of time, an apartment, but sleeping together one night wasn’t a guarantee of a relationship by any means.

  And for now, she was okay with that. Relationships were hard work, if the one with Beau was anything to compare to, and they both had enough on their plate right now. Giving in to their attraction and having fun while they were together was almost therapeutic—a stress reliever better than a glass of wine or a run on the treadmill. Could the physical turn into more? There was certainly that possibility, but that didn’t make her want him any less.

  Right now, she couldn’t imagine anything that would be a turnoff where Aidan was concerned. To be honest, if she knew her assistant, Betsy, might leave early today, she’d lock her office door and let him take her across her desk. All he’d have to do was push up her skirt...

  Violet glanced up from the paperwork she’d been blankly starting at and found Aidan looking at her with a sly grin plastered across his face. “What?” she asked, as she felt a blush warm her cheeks. Did he know what she’d been imagining just now? It felt like she’d been caught red-handed.

  “You’re not listening to me at all. You’re a thousand miles away.”

  She bit at her lip sheepishly and shook her head. “No, I wasn’t listening to you. I’m sorry. I got lost in my thoughts for a minute. Repeat what you said, please.”

  “I hope they were dirty thoughts,” he teased.

  If he only knew...

  Aidan shuffled the paperwork and pointed his finger at one of the sections he’d highlighted in yellow. “But seriously, I was asking about this part in the paperwork that talks about helping my new organization build its own donor base. How will we do that?”

  Violet took a deep breath and launched back into work mode. She was more comfortable there than in thoughts about her involvement with Aidan. “While we provide funds to you, we also provide connections to a network of other charitably minded people and organizations. Typically, we will do some kind of event to help you draw donor support, raise some additional funds and connect you with people that may want to be involved with your organization in the long-ter
m. Our hope is that the money we give you is seed money to get the charity off the ground and that eventually, you can support yourselves.”

  “What kind of event are you talking about?”

  Violet picked up a couple invitations from past occasions they’d put together. She kept a file of them to use as examples. “Sometimes we do a walk or fun run. Themed parties or galas are always well attended. There’s been a few carnivals. A concert. You get the idea. Galas are probably our most successful events. The return on investment is pretty good and you don’t have the major outlay for bringing in a celebrity or something. Rich people like to dress up and mingle, and doing it for charity makes them feel good. With any event, you’re really just looking for something to get some publicity for your charity.”

  Aidan flipped through the cards she handed him with a thoughtful look on his face. “I never imagined doing something on this scale.”

  “You’ve got to if you’re going to get word out about—By the way, what are you going to be calling it? I never quite know what to refer to your halfway house as when I’m speaking about it.”

  He sat back in his chair and thought for a moment. “For a while I was playing around with Stepping Stones or something like that, but eventually I let that go and decided I kind of liked Molly’s House. That was my mother’s name and it was her house, after all. It was her dream to help people like my dad recover from their addictions since she couldn’t save him.”

  “Your father was an alcoholic?”

  Aidan nodded. “It’s what killed him in the end. And I can’t help but think that the years of stress on my mother contributed to her illness, too.”

  Violet tried not to think about how rough it must have been on Aidan to lose both his dad and his mother, and so close together. He was older when it happened, but it still seemed to define him in some ways. He dedicated his life to running that bar and making it successful again. He fought to open this facility in his mother’s memory when it would’ve been so much easier to just sell the house and move on.

  She appreciated how much he cared about the people in his life. He would be a great father for Knox, and a wonderful husband to whatever lucky lady snagged him. Somehow, she didn’t think that would be her, even if she wanted it to be.

  “That’s a great name.” Violet reached for one of the forms and filled out the line for the organization title. She needed to focus on the event, not on who might be lucky enough to be with Aidan someday. “Having a name can also help with the event planning,” she continued. “See what flows well, like the Friday Suppers Fun Run. We did that race for a local soup kitchen.”

  Aidan looked down at the stack of invitations she’d handed him before dropping them onto the table. “You know, I think a party would be the thing to do. You said they turn a nice profit and that’s what we need. Maybe a Midnight Ball for Molly’s House?”

  That wasn’t bad. A shame it wasn’t closer to the New Year. “How about a Masquerade for Molly’s House? We could do a black-tie party and encourage everyone to wear Mardi Gras or Venetian-style masks. That’s a little different from the usual party and yet I think a lot of people will have fun with it.”

  He nodded. “I like that. A Masquerade for Molly’s House. I think Mom would’ve liked that, too, especially everyone wearing masks. She always made a big deal out of making my costumes for Halloween each year.”

  “Great. With that kind of setup, Molly’s House will earn the profits on every ticket sold after we recoup costs for renting the venue, entertainment, refreshments and such. The most valuable part of the event is collecting the names and contact information of all the attendees for your future fundraisers, but the cash is great, too. We can do some additional things like a raffle to raise more money. Perhaps we can get a local company to donate something valuable, like a diamond necklace or a car to raffle off.”

  “An actual car?” Aidan asked with wide, surprised eyes.

  “I’ve done it before. We gave away a sporty little BMW one year. The dealer basically sold us the car below his cost for the advertising they would get. We charged twenty-five dollars for each raffle ticket, and it did so well, we paid for the car and made a tidy profit on top of that. It was something different that the attendees enjoyed. It doesn’t have to be a car, of course. We could come up with something that’s meaningful to you and your organization.”

  Aidan looked at her for a moment as his brow furrowed with thought, then he ran his fingers through the strands of his copper hair. “What about a trip?”

  That wasn’t a bad idea. They hadn’t done that before. “What kind of trip?”

  “My mother always wanted to go to Ireland. It had been her dream to visit the village her family came from and tour all the sites. After my father died, she even made plans to go there with a group of ladies from the church, but she got sick and had to cancel before they went. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, which is so aggressive and difficult to treat. She fought so hard and only lasted about eight months from her first oncologist’s appointment. I would love it if we could give away a trip for two to Ireland. You wanted something meaningful, and that would fit the bill more than a BMW.”

  Violet smiled. That was a perfect suggestion and one she wouldn’t have ever thought of on her own. “That’s an amazing idea. I’ll get my assistant, Betsy, to call my travel agent and see if they could get us a good deal on an all-expenses-paid trip for two. I know a few people at an airline. Perhaps we could get first-class airfare or a week at a hotel donated. Make it really nice, so the donors will be excited to buy raffle tickets.”

  This was really coming together and she was excited by its potential. Violet reached out and took Aidan’s hand as it rested on her table. The sudden movement seemed to startle them both since they hadn’t touched since this morning, but neither pulled away. Instead, he looked at her and smiled. The warmth of his skin chased away the chill she always felt in the air-conditioning of summertime, and the heat in his gaze made her core feel like it was molten inside. She didn’t know how she could possibly want him again so soon after last night, but she did.

  While she was hopeful to have her apartment back in one piece soon, staying with Aidan wasn’t bad at all. The Plaza was nicely decorated with all the amenities of a five-star hotel, but the master bedroom didn’t come with a sexy ginger to keep her warm at night the way his apartment did.

  A soft tap at the door caused their hands to repel from each other as they both turned to see who was there. She saw it was her long-time assistant as she poked her head inside.

  “Yes, Betsy?”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt. I just wanted you to know that Mr. Randall is here for your three-o’clock appointment.”

  “Thank you.” Violet looked down at her Rolex and realized the time with Aidan had flown by faster than she’d expected it to. “Well, at least we got a great start on planning. With your first check, you can start renovations on the house. In the meantime, I’ll get more of the gala information together for you to look over later this week.”

  “Okay. This all sounds really great, Violet. There’s only one problem I can foresee.”

  Violet straightened up in her seat. She didn’t like the sound of that. She worked really hard with the foundation to ensure that every event went flawlessly. “What’s that?”

  “You’re planning a black-tie affair and I don’t own a tuxedo,” Aidan said with an apologetic smile.

  * * *

  Even at the peak of his advertising career, Aidan hadn’t owned an expensive suit. He had some that were nice—nicer than anything else he’d owned in his whole life—but they weren’t even close to the kind of clothes in the windows that Violet was perusing.

  Ralph Lauren, Tom Ford, Giorgio Armani...all he could see were dollar signs running through his brain. He shouldn’t have said anything to Violet, he knew now. He’d set her on a mission. He should’v
e just shown up at the ball in a black rented penguin suit and no one would’ve known or cared where it came from.

  But Violet apparently cared.

  “I think an Armani or Tom Ford is the right style for you,” she said aloud as they looked into the windows at the store on Fifth Avenue. “They’re trending toward a slimmer fit this season. It will require less tailoring.”

  Aidan followed her inside the Armani boutique with a dismayed expression on his face. He could hardly afford the food served inside at the restaurant, much less a tuxedo there. That thought hadn’t occurred to Violet, however. She surged ahead, eyeballing the displays for just the right look.

  It didn’t take long for Aidan to mentally check out of the situation. After eyeing a pair of sunglasses he liked and nearly choking at the cost, he leaned against the wall and let his eyes glaze over while she shopped. He focused on her movements as she sauntered back and forth in a tight black pencil skirt that hugged her curves. The sway of her hips was hypnotizing, sending his mind into a full-fledged fantasy that included that skirt up around her hips and a mess of previously folded clothes on the nearby display scattered on the floor.

  “Aidan?” she said in a cross tone a few minutes later.

  He snapped out of it, realizing it was her beautiful irritated face, and not her ass, that was front and center at the moment. “Yes?”

  “I already have a dress to wear to the party,” she said. “I came here to help you find something nice to wear and you’re not paying any attention to me. I need your input to find something that will work.”

  “How about you find me a suit with fewer than four digits in the price and I’ll wear it?” he challenged. Pushing off from the wall with his shoulder, he strolled over to where Violet was standing with her arms crossed. “I don’t know what kind of people typically come to the Niarchos Foundation for help, but I assure you I wouldn’t be asking for money if I could lay out four grand for a tuxedo I’ll wear one night.”