Lawyer and the BOSS (Billionaire's Obsession Book 2)

by R. S. Elliot

  I deepened the kiss, spreading my eager fingers across Aiden’s broad chest. His skin was warm and still wet from the shower, and the chilly drops of water dripping from his hair onto my collarbone made me shiver with delight. His hand came up under my chin, gently tipping my face up so he could more easily slip his tongue into my mouth, and the next thing I knew, I was being walked backwards into his bedroom.

  I climbed onto his bed eagerly, pulling him behind me until we were both kneeling on the comforter, arms locked around each other, kissing intently.

  "Mia," Aiden said, his words a hot smear against my mouth as I kissed him insistently, not even wanting him to stop to say a word. "Baby, I⁠—"

  "Yes?"

  "I don’t want to do this unless you’re sure."

  I nuzzled my nose against him, chasing his mouth for another few needy kisses before taking a moment to catch my breath. I looked into his eyes, a brown so deep I could fall into them and never find myself again. They were full of love and lust, desire and concern. I had never wanted him more than I did in that moment.

  "I’m sure. I want this."

  "Are you, um, on any sort of…?"

  "I’ve been on the pill for a few months, just in case. Do you have any…?”

  Aiden disappeared for a moment and rummaged around in one of his dresser drawers, then sat back down with a condom wrapped in bright blue cellophane between his fingers. My face reddened a bit.

  "Sorry, but I don’t think I know how to⁠—"

  "It’s alright, I do." Aiden leaned back across the bed and kissed me again, filling my head with that wonderful effervescent sensation.

  "If you’re sure," he said, his lips ghosting across my jaw.

  "I’m sure. I want you, Aiden. Are you…" My voice wavered a little. I hadn’t stopped to consider that maybe he was having second thoughts and that maybe he would like to be asked for his consent too. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes," he said, and then his mouth was on top of mine, and he was pressing me back down into the sheets.

  I should have been more concerned about our surroundings, the fact that it was the middle of the day and that his bedroom door was still open, but we were alone in the house. We were alone in the world, and we were about to do what we had only dreamed of during furtive necking sessions in the school hallways or the back of cars.

  I tugged off my sweater, the air cool against my stomach, and turned red from being looked at in nothing but a bra for the first time. If Aiden noticed, he didn’t mind, he just smoothed his hands up my abdomen and fondled my breasts through the thin lace of my bra until I wanted to cry from pleasure, working a hickey into my neck the whole time. He was hard beneath the flimsy coverage of his towel, and I could feel the length of him pressing against my thigh. I wanted to feel him, to look at him, but I didn’t know where to start. I hadn’t exactly had a lot of practice, and I wasn’t the type to watch dirty movies to do my research. I had assumed it would all be easy, sexy improvisation, but now there were more tangled limbs and layers of clothes than I had counted on.

  I decided to be bold and reached out to stroke my hand along Aiden’s length through the towel. He shuddered, his hips jerking, and a smile spread across my lips at this new ability I had to work him up. I wanted to tease him more, to make him say my name, maybe, but then his hand disappeared between my legs and I gasped. The sound was louder than I expected, and I almost cried out when the soft brush of his fingers turned into a slow circling of the most sensitive part of me through my panties. I was suddenly grateful I had worn a skirt that day, which Aiden flipped up around my hips for ease of access.

  "Oh my God," I breathed. "Oh, God. Aiden."

  "Is this alright?" he asked breathlessly. I had resumed my clumsy fondling of his member, but if I wasn't exactly an expert, it didn’t show in his face. His voice was rough-edged with desire. "Are you okay?"

  "Yes," I said with a rapid nod. "Yes, yes. More. Oh my God, that feels good."

  His thumb brushed along the edge of my panties.

  "Can I take these off?"

  "Please."

  In one decisive moment, Aiden had tugged off my panties. I gasped and bit my lip when his fingers swirled across my exposed skin, parting my lips to explore me more thoroughly. I pushed aside the towel and grasped him, tugging up in a smooth stroke from base to slippery tip. Aiden leaned his head against my shoulder and groaned.

  I writhed and moaned as we worked each other, me pumping his shaft with increasing speed while he teased and stroked me. I could feel myself getting wetter, slicking his fingers, but all the embarrassment I should have felt at such an indiscretion was gone. Instead, I was bucking my hips up against him, urging him on. His shaft was hot and throbbing in my hand, and I wanted to feel it pressed against my own heat, pressing inside me.

  "Please," I panted. "I want you inside me."

  I cried out in pleasure as Aiden slid one finger into me and then another, thrusting slowly. The stretching sensation was a little uncomfortable but not altogether unpleasant, and soon he was moving in and out of me freely. I didn’t think I could take much more of this; my legs were trembling and there was a sheen of sweat on my forehead as I kissed him ravenously. Aiden’s breathing was hard and labored, and I was afraid he was going to finish without us getting to the main event.

  "Are you close?" He asked.

  I nodded, digging my nails into the back of his neck.

  "I want you, baby. I want more. I’m ready."

  For an instant, the delicious sensation of his fingers inside me disappeared, and there was a rustle of plastic somewhere off to my right. By the time I opened my delirious eyes, Aiden was kissing me again, climbing on top of me and positioning himself between my legs.

  "I love you, Mia," he said, and then sheathed himself inside me.

  The sensation was immense, and I could feel it all the way from my pulsating sex deep into my abdomen. I groaned when his skin pressed flush against mine, then gasped as he drew back again and started a steady, slow pace. I had never felt closer to him, and I pulled him in closer and wrapped my legs around him so that I could savor every moment of our first time together. He had taken his time arousing me, and the sex didn’t hurt like the girls liked to whisper on the back of the school bus, although I did have to adjust our angle a few times to find a more comfortable position. We had a couple of false starts before finding our rhythm, but then I rode out our lovemaking with my arms wrapped tightly around him, murmuring sweet nothings into the crook of his neck and urging him on.

  Aiden finished inside me with a deep groan that made me shudder with pleasure. Then he brought his thumb up to swirl a circle around my clit while he kissed me heavily, and I barely lasted a minute more. I came hard, with a sharp cry and my thighs clenching around him. For a moment, the whole world was a warm, dark haze, and then I slowly came back to myself and to Aiden.

  We lay in each other’s arms afterwards, naked and shameless on top of his sheets. He pulled me into a warm, comforting embrace, and I laid my head on his chest. I must have stayed there with my eyes half-closed, listening to his heart beat slowly return to normal while he threaded his fingers through my hair for the better part of ten minutes. It wasn’t anything like the stories. It wasn’t scary, or life-changing, or a religious experience. But it was very, very good, and I wanted to do it again and again for as long as I could possibly imagine with him. I wanted to spend my life close to Aiden, supporting each other and kissing each other and bringing each other all sorts of pleasure.

  "I love you so much," I murmured into his skin. "More than I thought I could love somebody."

  "Aw, baby." Aiden pulled me closer, pressing our bare chests flush together. I felt like I was going to disappear into the nearness of him, content and as safe as I had ever been. "I love you too. So much. This is all I want for us."

  "Sex?" I asked, a little giggle bubbling up in my throat. I was still giddy from my orgasm.

  "No, closeness. I want to be close to you. F
orever, Mia. I’m serious."

  I lifted my head up off his chest a few inches, searching his face with my eyes.

  "Like, forever, forever?"

  He nodded, and I swallowed dryly. There was a lump forming in my throat I couldn't shake.

  "Like...a house together forever?"

  "And kids, if you want them," he said with a chuckle. "I won’t push you."

  I could cry for happiness. Of course, I had thought of a future with Aiden before, but it always seemed so distant and improbable, like I was letting the dreamy little girl inside of me get ahead of herself. But now I saw my dreams weren’t the product of a runaway imagination. They were rooted in reality, and Aiden wanted them too. Aiden wanted a future together, a wedding and a white picket fence and babies running around in the yard.

  "That sounds nice," I said, my voice so gentle and hoarse it was barely audible. Aiden kissed me just before the tears fell, not caring that I was getting our cheeks wet. I tasted salt as he murmured my name against my lips, and whenever I tasted my own tears for years after that, I would feel Aiden’s stubble against my cheek and remember the sensation of him kissing me gently, making me a wordless promise.

  Chapter Three

  Mia

  The next week, I was laying on my stomach on my bed with books, folders, and a half-eaten clementine spread out around me when Aiden called. I couldn’t help but smile when I saw his name flash on my screen, and I picked it up immediately. I was deep in the middle of cramming for my final, and if it was anyone else I would have sent them straight to voicemail, but I always had time for Aiden, even if my father wouldn’t approve of how often we called or texted when I was supposed to be studying.

  "Hi," I said into the mouthpiece, quietly enough that my father wouldn't hear me in the other room. I knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but I liked my privacy.

  "Hi, baby," Aiden said. His voice was warm and full of affection, and I could tell he was happy to hear my voice. We hadn’t seen each other much in the last couple of days, slammed as we were with practice and studies respectively. It only made our love for each other grow as well as the desire to be back together, tangled up in each other’s bodies as we had been on Friday night.

  "What’s up?"

  "Nothing. I just miss you," he said.

  I rolled over onto my back, losing myself in an indulgent smile. There was nothing I loved more than hearing him say that.

  "Oh, you think so?"

  "I do. I can’t stop thinking about you and about last Friday night. You were amazing, Mia. Oh my God. I just keep thinking about the way you put you⁠r—"

  There was a light rap on my door and then my father’s voice filtering through the wood.

  "Mia?"

  I jumped in my skin, face flushing.

  "Sorry," I whispered into the phone. "Gotta go. It’s my dad!"

  "Aw, Mia⁠—"

  "I’ll call you back, I promise. Just...entertain yourself until I’m free again."

  With that, I hung up and tossed my phone on the bed beside me.

  "Come in," I called.

  My father pressed through the door, his glasses glinting in the twinkle string lights I had threaded through my bedframe. He was holding a thin white envelope in his hands.

  "What’s that?" I asked, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest. Was that…? No, it was too early in the year, wasn’t it?

  He grinned at me with all the satisfaction of a proud father, and I had my answer.

  "Oh my God," I said. "Oh my God, oh my God."

  My head was spinning. This was it. The letter that would determine my future, that could put me on the path to success. And take me away from Aiden. I didn’t know whether to feel excited or fearful.

  "Easy now," he said. "We don’t know what it says yet! But I thought you’d like to know as soon as it arrived."

  "Of course!" I cried. My throat was dry, but I waved him into the room. "Come here, we’ll read it together. Where’s it from⁠?"

  "Stanford."

  I made a strangled noise in my throat. Stanford was my top choice school, the university I had been fixated on since I was thirteen years old. I was obsessed with the private college situated in distant California, and I had been hoarding glossy pamphlets full of campus pictures for years. They had an artsy, forward-thinking reputation and were known for offering super personalized courses of study to the bright, innovative students who were accepted. An acceptance letter from Stanford was a dream come true, and it was the one thing I had been dreaming about and praying about throughout the entire hell of the college application process. If they told me yes, I had promised to go.

  "Alright, I can’t wait any longer," I said. "Open it."

  "Don’t you want to?" my father asked, holding the letter out to me. I shook my head.

  "No, I’m too nervous. I would probably just drop it on the ground. I want you to."

  My father nodded, then leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. He smoothed my hair with the flat of his hand and said, "No matter what happens, you know I’m very proud of you and I love you very much."

  "I know. Thank you." Aiden’s face flashed through my mind, blissful and smiling at me lazily in bed. I took a deep gulp of air. "Okay. I’m ready."

  My father ripped open the envelope with his thumbnail and unfolded the thick white sheet of paper inside. The school seal was so dark I could see it through the other side of the paper.

  "Dear Ms. Prescott. Greetings! We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as a⁠—"

  I didn’t need to hear anymore. I let out a shriek of pleasure and threw my arms around my father, hugging him so tightly he probably felt suffocated. He let out a booming laugh and folded me up in his arms, rocking me back and forth. I thought my heart would burst from happiness. I had never felt this elated before, I had never even known it was possible to feel this full. The room was spinning, but even in my joy, I couldn't stop thinking about Aiden, about the touches and promises we had shared, about his commitment to always be by my side. As much as talking about our future together delighted us, I didn’t know how reasonable it was to assume he would just follow me to Stanford. Grief, elation, anxiety, and joy all bubbled up in my chest, and I ended up laughing so much that tears came to my eyes. I cried a little then, tears dropping onto the pale green of my father’s shirt. He probably thought it was just from the relief of knowing I was going to a great college, and I didn’t want him to worry. He didn’t need to know how torn up I was feeling about leaving Aiden.

  "I’m so proud of you honey," my dad said. His own voice was thick with tears, but I knew if I looked up he would just blink them away and pretend like he wasn’t getting all choked up. He never liked me to see him cry; he preferred to put up a strong font at all times. It probably had to do with him wanting to be a rock for me when my mother moved out after their divorce. But I was touched by how emotional he was getting. In a way, he had gone through the whole application process along with me, listening to me worry out loud about acceptance rates and helping me research scholarship packages and calling admissions offices to ask about campus tour times. He was no doubt feeling just as relieved as I was.

  "I can’t believe this," I said, pulling away. "I did it. I really did it."

  "Of course you did. You stayed focused and you worked hard. I always believed in you. You deserve this, Mia."

  I took the letter from him with trembling fingers and flipped it open, skimming over the words so quickly I could hardly read them. I read enthusiastic congratulations, and loving descriptions of the community life at Stanford, and how much they hoped I would be joining them next fall for the start of classes. There was also, to my great relief and delight, a large scholarship offer enclosed. Not enough to cover the entirety of life at Stanford, but enough to cover most of it. This was happening. It was really happening. I was going to Stanford. I was going to California.

  California. The sheer distance of the place engulfed me. I had known how far aw
ay it was when I applied, of course, but that was when I was applying to schools all over the country. I might have ended up at Sarah Lawrence, just an hour away from home, or at any other school that would allow me to visit from time to time. But California was the other end of the world, a long, expensive plane ride away from my friends and New York and my father and Aiden. Oh, Aiden.

  He had been so supportive of my dreams of getting accepted into a great university and had encouraged me to reach for the stars and apply wherever I wanted to. But the fact was that this acceptance letter was a knife coming between us, severing our newly strengthened ties of love and affection. I loved him, and I couldn't imagine only being able to see him once or twice a year. I knew the odds of that working out, and the stereotype about everyone who came to college with a long distance partner, dropping them within the first few months of the freshman year. I liked to think that I wouldn’t be one of those people, that Aiden and I could take the strain of distance. But never being able to see him, to hold his hand and kiss him and hug him after practices, to pull him into my bed for an hour of closeness and pleasure...felt like too much. I could barely stand to be apart for him for a weekend when he traveled with his parents out of town. How would I survive an entire semester?

  "Mia?" My father asked gently. "You alright?"

  "Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine! I just got a little lost in my thoughts. I think I’m still in shock about the whole thing."

  "That’s perfectly understandable. It’s probably going to take a little while to settle in. But this is it, sweetheart. You made it. You’re going to California next fall."

  Going to California. This was an early action acceptance letter, meaning that I had already made a promise to the school to attend if accepted when I sent in my application. This was my golden ticket, and for all intents and purposes, I was locked in⁠—no matter how much I might feel like turning around and running in the other direction.