by Anna Zaires, Pepper Winters, Skye Warren, Lynda Chance, Pam Godwin, Amber Lin
Expecting to hear my phone again, I couldn’t place the noise at first. It was the doorbell. Someone was buzzing me from downstairs. Liz had arrived already. I jogged to the door and punched the call button. “Be down in a sec, Liz.”
“Ashlyn?” his voice broke through the silence, and straight into my heart.
Aiden.
I pulled open the door, and rushed down the stairs toward the sound of his voice. The anticipation of seeing him for the first time in a month had me tingling all over. However, my excitement quickly faded away, to be replaced by fear. What if he was here to tell me he was officially back with Logan? I hesitated for a second before opening the door and drew a deep breath. I was strong. I could do this. And even if turned out I couldn’t, there was always alcohol to numb the pain.
When I stepped outside Aiden was leaning against the side of the building looking down at the pavement deep in thought. He lifted his head and spotted me, a slow smile spreading across his lips. I wanted to rush to him, to throw my arms around his neck, to breathe in the scent of his chest, but my feet stayed planted to the sidewalk. He curled his hands into fists, and slowly released them, causing the veins in his forearms to stand out. Looking into his eyes, I noticed that the skin beneath them was marked by dark circles. Had he been sleeping? I pushed the thought from my mind. That wasn’t my concern anymore. He had chosen to leave.
He didn’t say anything for the first several seconds, he just stood perfectly still watching me like I was the most fascinating thing in the world. Well-dressed and clean shaven, wearing dark jeans, a fitted button-down shirt and dark jacket, he looked good. Aside from that though, I could tell things hadn’t been going smoothly for him. His eyes were stormy and shadowed with darkened hollows.
“Hi,” I finally offered, feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny.
The expression on his face softened, and he let out a nervous chuckle low under his breath. “Hi.”
I let myself take a deep breath and felt some of the tension evaporate from my shoulders.
His eyes wandered from mine, down to my chest, over hips and legs, and settling on my calves clad in the boots he was once so fond of. He swallowed roughly. “You look well.”
“Thank you,” I replied in a clipped tone. Why was he here?
He looked at my outfit and frowned. “Were you headed somewhere?”
I shook my head. “I was going to meet Liz, but…just wait right here.” I sprinted up the stairs and grabbed my phone. I typed out a terribly misspelled text telling Liz that something had come up and I would explain later then raced back down the stairs.
He was standing on the sidewalk several feet from where I left him. “Will you join me on a walk? I was hoping we could talk.”
We need to talk could be code for thanks for making sure I wasn’t homeless, it was nice knowing you, or it could be code for be mine forever and have my babies. My stomach twisted into a painful knot. “Sure,” I managed.
The sun was beginning its nightly descent and the sky was burnished a lovely shade of pink. I had no idea where we were headed, but I resisted breaking his concentration and instead followed beside him, trying to match his determined pace.
We reached what looked like a school and Logan stopped and stood in front of the building.
“What are we doing here?” I looked at him.
He took me by the shoulders, turning me to the right. My breath caught in my throat. It was his mural. I’d recognize his style anywhere. I began walking toward it, needing to get closer.
From left to right, I followed along the wall, trailing my hand as I walked. There was a path through a forest with warped, gnarled trees. It was dark and forbidding. As I walked, the painting got lighter and at the end of the path was a group of several people, of every age and race. They were lending helping hands, supporting each other, some were embracing. Its message of love and hope was clear. In script lettering at the bottom of the mural, it read: You choose.
I stood back in awed silence, admiring his work. He came up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. “It’s beautiful,” I commented.
He steered my shoulders to the edge of the wall. “This is what I wanted to show you.”
He bent down near the wall and pointed to some lettering that could only be seen up close. I crouched down to inspect it.
He had translated our shared Latin tattoo and painted it in delicate black ink. I will either find a way or make one. Underneath that, his finger traced the words. For Ashlyn, with love. Always.
It was a very sweet gesture, and I was truly touched, but still I need to hear him, in his own words, tell me what he was doing back here, why he had been away for a month. I wouldn’t allow myself to get my hopes up. I stood up and dusted the soil off my knees.
After looking at the mural we walked along Lakeshore Drive. The gusts from Lake Michigan made the air feel colder, but the crisp breeze washed over me and left me revived.
Aiden saw me hugging my arms around my chest, and started to remove his jacket.
“No, you keep it.” When I stopped him, my fingers brushed against his. It was an innocent touch, but still caused a swell of longing to surge through me. My skin tingled in awareness of him. My damn body was betraying me.
“You’re cold. Let’s stop and get a drink.” He tipped his head to the jazz club directly across the street from where we stood. I nodded and we made our way to it.
Once we were seated directly across from each other at the tiny pedestal table with a flickering red candle between us, I nibbled on my bottom lip. Surely this was it; we were going to have The Conversation now. Just then the server appeared and Aiden placed our drink order. A bottle of Bordeaux that he said was apparently his favorite and he wanted me to try it.
When our wine came, he signaled the server to pour me the first taste. I brought the glass to my lips while Aiden watched and took a small sip. I swirled the rich, fragrant liquid across my tongue and swallowed. It was tangy and tart with notes of berry. He was right, I loved it. I nodded and the server filled my glass, and then his.
I took another sip of my wine, noting my skin had already warmed from the combination of Logan’s proximity, and the delicious wine.
“What have you been doing for the past month?” I inwardly cringed, afraid he would answer with a single word that would crush me: Logan.
His hazel eyes locked on mine, looking insanely intense. “Putting together the pieces of my life. Trying to become whole again.”
Another healthy gulp of wine had me feeling more like my old self, comfortable and at ease in his presence. “And, what did you find? Do you have a house in the suburbs? An apartment in the city? Wife? Dog? Two-point-five kids?”
He frowned and set down his wine glass. “I live alone in a loft just north of the city. It’s cold and sterile. You’d hate it. Hell, I hate it. I’ve grown used to your messy, lived-in apartment.”
“Did you just call me messy?” I teased. I surprised myself with my ability to appear so calm about this, while inside my stomach was in knots.
“Not you.” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Your apartment.”
The sudden contact and warmth of his skin made me shudder and I pulled my hand back. “How could no one have been looking for you? I don’t understand.”
A pained expression crossed his face for a brief second before his eyes found mine and cleared again. “I grew up in foster care, so I don’t really have a family. I’m still connected with a few of my foster siblings, but we don’t talk often. And I was on sabbatical from the university, so my colleagues didn’t think anything of it.”
He truly was alone. I wondered if that made it harder or easier for him to slip back into his old life.
The conversation was flowing so well between us, that I almost didn’t want to bring her up. Almost. “And Logan?”
He let out a deep sigh. “Where to begin…” He strummed against the tabletop with his long fingers.
“A
t the beginning?” I suggested, helpfully.
He smiled at me. “Are you sure you want to hear about this?”
I nodded. I didn’t so much want to as I needed to.
“I met her in Memphis that summer I worked down there, and it turned out she was from Chicago too, which sort of bonded us together in a place far from home. She was taking a metalworks seminar, and neither of us knew a soul there.
“It turned out she fled to Memphis trying to get away from an ex-boyfriend with a drug problem. She was clean, had been for a while, but she admitted she had a weakness for alpha males and cocaine. At first I wanted nothing to do with her, but as we spent time together I began to trust that all of that was really behind her.
“We dated for three years. I guess I thought I could save her, change her.” He shook his head. “And I did. For a while. But then she started slipping. About two years in to our relationship, she hit a mental block with her art, and everything started to fall apart.
“She started using again, and began hanging out with her old crowd. That day in the warehouse, we’d broken up and she’d called me frantically, asking me to help her. She owed money to a dealer. That’s how I ended up at that warehouse that day, trying to bail her out of trouble. I don’t remember exactly what happened when I got there. But …I guess you know how it ended.”
I nodded. “Did she come looking for you?”
“I’d told her during that last phone call that I was done, and for her not to call me again. She went back to rehab and had no idea what had happened to me.”
I swallowed another gulp of wine, hoping to dislodge the lump from my throat before asking my next question. “So if you guys were…broken up…does that mean…?”
His brows pulled together. “I’m not with Logan. That’s what you thought this was about? Me leaving?”
I nodded, tears filling my eyes at the mention of the way he’d left me.
“Christ, Ashlyn, no.”
He squeezed my hand again and waited for me to regain my composure, not wanting to upset me any further. I appreciated that. I didn’t cry in public.
“I’ve talked to her pretty much every day for the last month, but only because she seems to know me, I mean the old me, better than anyone. I don’t feel anything for her.”
My body visibly sagged with relief. The effects of the wine and seeing Aiden again after so long had left my emotions frayed and raw. I knew if he left again it would take a hell of a lot more than crying on Liz’s shoulder and a few shots of vodka to fix me. Everything was clicking into place. Memphis. The street sign we couldn’t place in Chicago. Even the blues music.
I gripped my hands in my lap and stared up at him. “Why did you come back?” We might as well end this little charade of the happy reunion now. I couldn’t betray my feelings for him until I knew exactly why he was here. I couldn’t be rejected again.
He rubbed the back of his neck the way I’d seen him do when he got nervous. What did he have to be nervous about?
“I know I don’t deserve a woman like you. My upbringing was less than stellar, and my past relationships were…questionable, but keeping myself away from you for the last month was the hardest damn thing I’ve ever done. And I know there’s still so much you don’t know about me…”
I knew him better than anyone. I knew he was kind, and sweet, and hard working. And that he liked steamed milk in his coffee, and that if I was ever in a trivia game involving history questions, I’d make damn sure he was on my team. I knew that he made me incredibly hot, and nothing would change my mind about wanting to be with him.
“When two people begin dating, do they know every little detail about one another?” I challenged.
“No,” he answered sheepishly.
“Then what is it that you think I need to know?”
He thought about it for a second, then smirked. “My middle name is James,” he said simply. “And I’m twenty-seven.”
I smiled. “Aiden James York.” It had a nice ring to it. “It’s nice to meet you.”
He brought my outstretched hand to his lips and laid a damp kiss on my palm.
Chapter Twenty-One
If I didn’t get the key in the lock on this next try, I thought Aiden would break the damn door down. Although if he hadn’t been pressed up against my backside grinding his erection against me, I might not have been so distracted.
“Move,” he growled, taking the key from my hand. He thrust it into the lock and turned. I nearly moaned in relief. My entire body needed him. We’d made out in the backseat of the cab the entire ride back, happy and drunk from our shared conversation and bottle of wine.
Once inside, he flipped on the lights and took my face in his big warm hands, and just looked at me lovingly. “Being here with you, in this tiny apartment, you were everything I needed. I thought I needed more—to know everything about my past. I was wrong. You were all I thought about, all I needed. Nothing compared to you. Not the money in my bank account, my job at the university, my lavish apartment. I’d trade it all to have you back.”
“Yes. Please.”
We began a disjointed dance of tugging at each other’s clothing, desperate to be closer. Aiden seemed reluctant to remove my boots, but my jeans were tucked inside them, so it was necessary. Then he knelt before me and peeled off my socks, kissing the soles of both feet before standing to remove my shirt. In my jeans, bra and bare feet, I felt more beautiful than ever. His intense gaze never left me. He slid his fingertip under the waistband of my jeans and circled my hipbone, his finger dancing lightly over my tattoo, sending a delicate flush all the way up to my chest.
I pulled his jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor and he pulled his shirt off over his head. His bare chest was one of my favorite things about him. I could stare at his muscled pecs and stomach all day. After a few moments, though, I realized he was just standing there, not moving. I glanced up at him and he was grinning at me expectantly, like he was waiting for something. I tilted my head to the side slightly and surveyed him.
Then I saw it, and my heart squeezed in my chest.
The tattoo on his bicep that had once read Logan had been covered up with an intricate tribal design that hid the text underneath it entirely. I ran my fingertips across it and stared at him in awe.
“Do you like it, sweetheart?”
I nodded.
We would both still know it was there, but maybe that was okay. Logan was part of our shared history. I didn’t want to admit it, but sometimes it was still hard for me to think of him as Aiden. Aiden James, I reminded myself.
Once we were undressed, he arranged the throw pillows and blanket from the sofa on the floor, and gently lowered me on top of the makeshift bed. He placed his hand on my belly and gently pushed me back until I was lying down. Despite our one-month separation, he took his time, gently suckling and kissing my breasts before heading south.
I was wet and needy by the time his lips reached my sex. I moaned in sweet relief when he finally kissed me there. I opened my eyes and watched as he made love to me with his mouth. His tongue swirled in a familiar, delicious pattern, delivering as much pleasure as he could. He gently nibbled and sucked, seemingly enamored with this activity. I loved watching him, and soon I was moaning and arching against his mouth with each exquisite flick of his tongue.
“Aiden,” I groaned as my release came.
He kissed my bare mound several more times before removing himself from in between my legs. I loved how I no longer felt self-conscious about being completely exposed to him.
I shifted to my knees to take him into my mouth, but his hand on my elbow stopped me. He shook his head. “Come here, beautiful. I need to be inside you.”
I smiled at his words.
He pulled me to his lap so I was straddling him. He held my hips just above his cock and encouraged me to sink down onto him. “I want you to fuck me, baby.”
I lowered myself down and immediately felt the resistance of his thi
ck erection trying to penetrate me. He reached between us and grabbed his cock, dipping and swirling it in my wetness to try and ease its entrance.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
I nodded.
He pushed inside me slowly, inch by delicious inch until I was stretched to capacity and my head dropped back, arching against the mix of pleasure and slight sting of pain.
Once he had buried himself in me fully, he let out a deep moan from the back of his throat and I opened my eyes to watch him. His pupils were dilated with pleasure and desire. He was beautiful. And he was mine.
His pace slowed to an easy rhythm, and he grinned as he met my eyes. “I love you, Ashlyn.”
“I love you too.”
He pulled me close, nuzzling into my neck and planting kisses up and down my throat.
I lifted myself off him and began sliding up and down.
“Ah…” he breathed. “Fuck, baby, that’s good.”
His sexy murmurings spurred me on and I moved faster against him.
His hands roamed my skin, fingertips running along my arms, tickling down my sides, and then trailing lightly up my naked spine. He cupped the back of my neck and brought my mouth to his in a crushing kiss. I loved his forwardness and the way he took command of my body. It was his for the taking.
His gripped my waist, his fingers biting into the skin as he pulled me in closer. I cried out and let him move me into whichever position suited him best. He clutched my ass in his palms and nibbled on my bare shoulder.
I was completely uninhibited and let my body have its way. With each downward thrust, I felt him bump against me and I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold off my second orgasm long. He gripped my hips and guided me up and down, loud, breathy moans escaping his parted lips.
“Aiden, I’m going to come.”
“Me too, baby.” With his hand on the back of my neck, he guided my mouth to his and kissed me quickly.
I tossed my head back and whimpered. I continued thrusting against him, and felt as he released into me. My relief quickly followed, with an intense throbbing pleasure deep inside me.