by Britta Jane
He seemed happier and healthier, and I could tell that while this man had experienced a ton of hardship, he could carry all of their weights, plus the enormous responsibility of his life and work.
It was time for our sessions to end.
That killed me because I didn’t want to lose him. It wasn’t that he was a great client or that he was hot and gave me the greatest fantasies to dream over. But I respected him. I liked who he was… a lot. I hated to even admit it, but I also began to realize I was falling head over heels for the man.
I’d never really understood love despite years of training. I could articulate it, spot it—whether it was real or fake, how it hurt people and when to run. But who and how it happened to, when and why it was unrequited, that part was always lost on me.
No matter. I gave my standard spiel. Aiden knew we were coming to an end. I’d been working us up to this point, and today was the day I would tell him it would be our last session. We both knew I’d say it and the words had finally fallen off my tongue. It hurt. Literally. My insides ached. I had already cleared my schedule for the day, and was going to go home and sulk.
“Thanks for listening to me,” he said. “For everything. You have no idea.”
“It’s my job.” I hated this part normally, but now I had to pretend I wasn’t deluded enough to want to cry. All therapists saw therapists to help deal with what they heard and took on, and I was going to need a heavy duty session very soon.
There was an awkward silence, and then, he looked at the ceiling, the same way he had during our first session and a worry I hadn’t expected crept up.
“Aiden? What’s wrong?”
“I need to ask you something.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m always here, telling you about all my problems.”
I laughed. “That’s the point of what we’re doing here.”
“I haven’t told you something.”
The air curled with the same anticipation that I hadn’t been sure about months ago, and now I was unsure about what I felt and the timing.
“Have you ever wanted to tell someone you wanted something more, but are afraid of what might happen?” he asked.
The fear of rejection. Even the world’s powerful men knew that feeling, but it was extraordinary he could realize and communicate it. “That’s human nature.”
“Would you take off your shrink hat for a second?” Aiden pushed out of his chair and paced. “I’m not ready to be done. I have more to talk about. I just haven’t brought it up.”
His abruptness and tone caught me off guard. “I’m sorry. I… didn’t know.”
Aiden dropped back to his chair. “There’s a girl.”
My heart sank. Damn. For so many reasons, damn. He hadn’t told me because of what had happened in the elevator, and that was the reason boundaries like ours should never be crossed. I hadn’t seen it coming, and I hurt even more than I did to begin with. “Then we should work on this. I didn’t know.”
He ran his hand over his face. “I like her. Fucking hell, I’m crazy about her.”
This was going to put me in all kinds of therapy. “That’s terrific. But if you didn’t bring it up because of the elevator, I need to apologize. I’m sorry. I crossed the line, and—”
“Stop.”
I ran my hands into my hair. My attraction clouded my professional judgement, and then my feelings obscured what he needed. “I just need to say this. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing, Alexis.” Two lines furrowed on his forehead, and I’d never seen him this upset before.
I bit my lip. “Okay.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, then threw his hand down like he was frustrated or angry. “I’m afraid to talk about her. Hell. Afraid to pursue her. She’s great. Brilliant. I’ve never met anyone like her, and I fell for her.”
I couldn’t help but smile. He had no idea how easy it was for people to genuinely like him. Even if he was dirt poor and worked in the mail room, I’d still be nuts about the guy. Anyone would feel the same way.
“Lots of people would say the same thing about you.”
“She’s the real deal.”
“I hate to break it to you, Aiden, but you’re a catch. Being a billionaire aside. You’re a pretty good guy.”
The stress lines and frustration melted away with his laugh. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” This sucked so much. “You don’t need therapy for this. Just tell her. If she isn’t interested, it’s not because of you.”
“Alexis.” He inched forward on his chair. “It’s you. How do you not know this?”
My jaw fell open.
He stood and moved closer to me but the expanse between us seemed miles wide as I tried to piece together how I’d missed what he seemed so certain about.
“Alexis, I don’t want you to apologize for the elevator. Ever. I want you to want that. I want you to… I want you.”
Want wasn’t a strong enough word, but I wasn’t strong enough to say that. Or was I? This was so much to take in. Thirty seconds ago, I’d thought he was telling me about falling deeply for another woman, but that woman was me.
“You’re not saying anything.” He arched an eyebrow. “You always have something to say.”
I pushed out of the safety of my chair, flying without my safety net, never feeling more vulnerable and excited. God, happy! There was so much to process. “I have lots to say, but I’m searching for the right words.”
“Screw the right words.” Aiden confidently stepped close, his worries seemingly gone. “I don’t want just your curated thoughts and your body in taboo places, Alexis.” His gaze scraped over me in a way that nearly set the threads of my clothes alight. “I want all of you.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I finally admitted.
“It’s simple.” His eyes danced. “I want to hear what you want.”
That was simple too. “You.”
His smile lit brighter than anything I’d ever seen and the hands that had held me in the elevator grasped my waist once again. “Excellent.”
We had the trust and somehow, we had the friendship. We had everything, even the orgasm he had made me nearly scream in public. Yet we’d never shared a kiss. My stomach flipped as he ducked his chin. The spicy, expensive scent of his cologne was a reminder of our interlude in the elevator, and my pussy clenched unexpectedly.
His lips brushed against mine, savoring the moment, and their surprising softness was spectacular, only to be outdone by the assured fullness. “So sweet.”
I swooned. There was no other way to describe what he was doing to me.
Then he pressed his lips to mine, and pushed his tongue into my mouth, kissing me with the trust and passion we’d built for months. This was better than any kiss and dream.
CHAPTER FOUR
One Year Later
Knock. Knock.
Aiden popped his head into my office. I was expecting my receptionist, not my fiancé, and I jumped out of my chair. “Hey! I didn’t know you were coming by.”
“I thought you should know.” He wrapped his arm around me and scooped me in for a panty-scorching kiss.
When I finally found my head and footing from the mind-spinning kiss, I managed a simple, “What?”
He opened his suit jacket and pulled out his cell phone, swiping the screen. He handed it to me. “Society page official.”
“Are you joking?” I gaped at the gossip page that shared the details from our engagement last night. “How on earth…”
“No idea. But I locked the front door to make sure no one wanders in—”
Well, hello. I laughed. That was why I had a receptionist and building security. “What about—”
“I sent her out for lunch. My treat.” Aiden backed me toward the couch.
“We’re all alone?” My arousal was instant and immediate.
“All. Alone.”
I couldn’t help it. The need to have his thickness in my mouth was more than I co
uld handle, and I dropped to my knees. His bulge pushed at his pants, and I unfastened the leather belt and his trousers, hungrily pulling his member free. I stacked my hands together and stroked his hard cock. My thumb curved over the crown and rubbed the drop of precum along the tip.
“God, woman.”
“Mm-hmm,” I murmured before taking him into my mouth.
He filled me, and I bobbed my mouth, my lips wrapped around his shaft. I grew even wetter as he reacted to my mouth and tongue, the motion and how I worked him.
“Enough,” he panted. “I need to be inside you.”
Aiden pulled from my mouth and covered me on the couch. Oh, the dirty fucking things I’d dreamed about doing on this couch with him. He rubbed me through my clothing. The friction between us was growing insane as his possessive hands rubbed and pinched, pulling and caressing.
Aiden was a juxtaposition of harsh and sweet, and I was wriggling beneath him as he yanked my skirt up. His bare skin stroked against my slick folds. He guided himself against me, using the blunt head of his erection to tease my clit.
“I want your cock,” I begged.
He answered my needy request with a kiss as he thrust into me, wasting no time. Aiden gave me every inch of him, and I couldn’t breathe. He drove me into the couch. His hot breath quickened against my neck, and I hiked my legs around his thighs, bucking and begging for more.
He drove into me, long and deep. The future was about more than the money and power that came with marrying this man; it was how deep his trust in me ran. I saw it in his eyes as he stroked inside me, withdrawing as if he needed to feel me arch and beg for the intrusion again, for him to continue living.
“Fuck, yes.” He powered into me.
The orgasm started and my pussy clenched around his thickness. “Aiden. God. God.”
He pushed me further and harder. We were a mess of legs and limbs, hot breaths and clinging hands on the couch, mostly still dressed as my climax thundered through me and I milked his dick, with pulsing vibrations, as his hot seed spilled into me.
“Alexis,” he hissed, half-kissing me. “I love you.”
I was awash in bliss. His cum reignited the pleasure, and it was all I could do to moan how much I loved what he does to me, love how he loves me, until he fell across me, and we lay tangled together, the future Mr. and Mrs. Copeland, on the couch in my office where it all began.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I’m a dreamer of happily ever after and a writer of steamy reads.
My name is Britta Jane, and I have a head full of billionaire bad boys and famous alpha males who know how to dominate.
Other than books, what’s there to know about me? I’ll work for chocolate and shoes (and books, always books). That sums me up. Shoes. Chocolate. Romance novels. Stayed tuned! I have been writing as much as I can and can’t wait to share!
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COPYRIGHT
© 2017. All Rights Reserved. Britta Jane.
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