“But you went to LaFleurs. Where I worked. And I didn’t know. How the fuck did I not know?”
“I only knew you worked there because your dad mentioned it once or twice.” Or forty times.
Jack really loved his sons and made sure that everybody knew that. So, he had mentioned a few times that Aiden worked at LaFleurs as a line cook, and then as a sous chef. And that he was doing freaking amazingly. And so, I had wanted to go. Meaning, I’d scraped up the change in my couch and then used a credit card to pay for it, but it had been worth it. Possibly some of the best food I’d ever had in my life. “The food was great, Aiden. You never have to worry about that.”
“How do you know I’m the one who cooked it?”
“I don’t, but you probably had a part in it. However small it may be.”
“Hey. There’s nothing small about me.”
My eyes widened, and I did my best not to look down. It was kind of hard not to because it was sort of the thing in the room just then.
“Really, Aiden?” I tried my best not to sound like I was too interested. Because I was. But I wasn’t.
“Sorry. Force of habit. Anyway. I didn’t know you came. To LaFleurs that is.” He winked. I rolled my eyes. “I wish you would have come back to the kitchen or something. Or sent a note to say that you were there. I would have liked to see you.”
“I thought it might be weird. It had been a while since we had actually talked to each other. You know? Friends just sometimes move in different directions for a while.”
“We’re not moving in different directions now. I guess you’re stuck in my life for a while.”
“Aw, I guess you’re stuck in mine, too.”
We both grinned then, and I realized that I was still watching him and that we were close. Too close.
And I was only wearing a tank top without a bra. I could feel my nipples hardening against my cami, two pinpoints of arousal just screaming to anyone that looked that, no, I wasn’t cold, I was very turned on in Aiden’s presence.
Damn him.
“This is a really bad idea,” Aiden muttered.
I only had a few moments to figure out exactly what he was saying before his mouth was on mine, and my arms were around his neck.
His hands were on my ass, molding me to his body, and I could feel the hard line of his erection digging into my belly.
Bad idea? No, the worst idea.
The worst idea ever.
Aiden had been in love with Allison. And Allison was gone.
Yet here I was, humping her ex-boyfriend.
I was going to hell. A special hell for best friends who were the worst friends.
With Aiden’s mouth on mine and every single teenage dream of mine coming true, I couldn’t focus.
So, I pushed Allison out of my head, even though it was the worst thing I could possibly do, and just felt.
Aiden arched into me, rocking his body. I let him, moaning into him as I clung.
I was wanton, needy, and I never wanted this to end.
There was no talking, no need to. No need to tell each other that we were making a mistake, that we should stop.
Because we already knew that. He’d already said those words. And I agreed.
There was no need to repeat it.
Instead, I leaned my head to the side as his mouth latched onto my neck, sucking, nibbling, taking a gentle bite. His hands molded to my ass, squeezing as he rocked his cock against me.
Suddenly, I was on the floor, the breath knocked out of me as he was on me, pulling my cami up slightly so he could kiss my belly.
“You’re so fucking soft,” he growled.
“More,” I muttered. “I need more.”
His beard was rough against my skin, but I didn’t care. I would likely have beard burn, and rug burn. Along with everything else that burned between us.
And I didn’t care.
I just wanted more.
And then he was above me again, kissing me roughly, his hands in my hair, and then one hand lowered, tugging my cami down so my breasts popped out. And then his mouth was on my nipple.
He flicked and sucked. And I writhed.
This was everything that I’d thought it could be. Everything and more.
I needed to stay out of my head.
I just needed to be in the moment. A moment that seemed like just a dream. This wasn’t really happening. It couldn’t be. Because if it was really happening, then it would end, and then I would feel everything again.
Aiden tugged my cami strap down, pinning my arm to my side, and then his mouth was on my other breast. Suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about the aftermath anymore.
Instead, I was wrapping my legs around him, wanting more, needing more.
Just more.
More.
That was the only word that kept coming to mind, over and over again.
More.
“Aiden,” I gasped.
“I’ll make you come, make you come hard. And then I’m going to be inside you. You want that, Sienna? All that fighting, all that anger you have towards me? I have it, too. But all I want to do is fuck you hard. And I’m going to do it for you right against this floor. Until we’re both spent yet still needing. What do you say?”
“You talk a lot, Aiden. Why don’t you just get with the action and show me that cock of yours?”
His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and then he laughed before kissing me again.
He had my clothes off in an instant, and then he was kneeling between my legs, his eyes wide. “You weren’t wearing panties.”
“I was going to put them on. Later.”
“Don’t on my account.”
And then his head was between my legs, his mouth on my pussy.
I arched into him, wrapping one leg over his shoulder and a hand in his hair. He kissed me down there, licking, sucking, spreading me so he could spear me with his tongue. And then his mouth twisted on my clit, and I came, shouting his name.
But he didn’t stop there. He kept licking, sucking, fingering me with two fingers, and then three. I clamped around his digits, coming again.
Somehow, he had found that magical spot, the one that only my fingers and different toys could find.
He was a fabled one, one who actually could find that spot.
And I hated him for it.
But I needed more.
And then I was tugging on his shirt, pulling it off as I kissed down his chest, sucking on one nipple and then the other.
He muttered under his breath, reaching into his wallet for something, and then he was throwing off his shoes and tugging off his pants.
I only had an instant to look at that long, thick, glorious cock of his.
It was hard, ready, and I wanted it inside of me.
“Holy shit,” I muttered, and then Aiden smiled at me.
I loved that smile of his.
He didn’t do it enough.
And I wanted him to smile.
Now, he was smiling at me.
All naked and about to be inside of me.
I pushed those scary thoughts out of my head because I just needed this moment.
I wasn’t going to have this moment again.
“I love the way you look at me.”
“You’re going to love it more once you’re inside me,” I snapped, and he laughed.
And then he was over me, one hand under my thigh, pushing my knee up to my face, the other at the base of his cock as he slammed home.
I was pretty sure I saw stars at that moment. He stretched me, filled me to the brim, and I couldn’t hold back my grunt, or even suck in a breath.
This was everything. Everything I hadn’t thought I needed.
His mouth was on mine, sweat pouring down both of our bodies as we tried to pause for a moment.
And then there was no more thinking. No still moments.
Just hard and fast and ready.
He slammed into me, over and over, our hands all over each oth
er, his between us, making me come once, twice, a fifth time in the moments that we had with each other.
I hadn’t thought it was possible.
But Aiden fucking Connolly made it possible.
With each pound, with each thrust, I slid farther along the rug, and I knew my ass would have rug burn at the end. I didn’t care.
I just wanted him.
And I had him.
And then he was shouting my name, slamming into me one more time, and we both froze, his release aching, loving.
No, not loving.
This wasn’t love.
This was Aiden fucking Connolly.
And he was still inside of me. Hard, yet not mine.
He lay on top of me for a moment, trying to catch his breath as I did the same. His forehead was on mine, but he wasn’t looking at me.
It was all I could do not to look at him.
And when he slid out of me, I closed my eyes, swallowed hard, and rolled to find my pants.
He must have done something with the condom and pulled on his pants because then he was coming back, tucking himself back into his jeans. I just sat there, trying to put on my cami.
“Sienna.”
I shook my head. “We’re not going to talk about this. You’re not going to talk about it again. You’re just going to go, and I will meet you at the bar later. Because we can’t do this again. We’re not like the others.”
I met his gaze then, and his face shut down, just like I needed it to.
Because I had just slept with my best friend’s ex-boyfriend.
And she wasn’t even here for me to face her.
I was the worst sort of person.
And as he walked away without a word, I wanted to tell him to come back.
I wanted to tell him that I loved him before this and that I was afraid I would love him more after.
But I didn’t.
Because there were no words.
I had broken the one oath that friends make with one another.
And Allison wasn’t here for me to do anything about it.
Chapter Eight
Aiden
Now
The feeling of deep release was a satisfaction like no other. The fact that I was looking at my bare hand, able to slowly move my fingers, was an orgasm in itself.
Not that I was going to tell the nurses or doctors that were staring at me exactly what was going on in my mind.
But considering the fact that I now had my cast off after almost six weeks, it made me feel as if everything was as exactly as it should be.
“Okay, tell me what you’re feeling,” the doctor said. I looked up at her.
“Uh, great. Thanks. Can I go now?”
She just raised that very penciled-in brow at me, and I winced. “I guess I can’t?”
“No, Mr. Connolly. You can’t yet. Let’s talk about exactly what you’re not going to do. And what you are going to do.”
“Okay,” I said and then sighed. I settled back into my chair, looked down at my now free hand, and knew it was going to take a while. I wouldn’t be able to just go back to the kitchen and start chopping and dicing and sautéing and doing everything that I was actually good at.
Instead, it seemed, I was going to have a lesson.
I had hated school before, and I really wasn’t a fan of it now.
“You were very lucky with the breaks in your hand. If they had been any worse, we would’ve been talking about surgery, loss of sensation, hindered dexterity, and worse. You hit that man’s face at the exact wrong angle when you already had some carpal tunnel issues because you use your hands too much.”
I blinked. “Carpal tunnel?”
“You’re going to have to do better. And I’m not just talking about with your job. It’s disturbing the number of people who are coming into different offices at this point because they have carpal tunnel thanks to their phones and just using their computers to scroll. The way you hold your phone will have to change. You’ll also need to move it from hand to hand. I noticed that you already had it in your left hand while we were waiting to take off your cast, and that’s good. But, the less you hold it, the better. Because you’ll be holding it at the bottom corner, right at one of your fracture points, and that will have to change.”
“Really? My phone is what caused me to break my hand?”
“Not exactly. But it didn’t help. We see these types of injuries all the time. Not necessarily the breaking, but the stress to your ligaments and other parts of your hand. We see them in smaller boys and teenage boys, as well.”
My mind went straight to the gutter, and from the way she narrowed her eyes at me, I had a feeling she knew exactly what I was thinking.
“No, Mr. Connolly. Although that probably doesn’t help the situation. I was talking about video games. With the rise in video games and cell phone usage, our hands are becoming weaker. Now, I’m not saying that you broke your hand because of the way you hold your cell phone or your knife at work. And you have so much muscle memory in how you hold your knife at work doing what you do that you’re not going to be able to change that overnight. If ever.”
“I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to do that. I hold it exactly the way I should after years of training.”
“And that’s great. But it’s the same motion over and over again, even the way you hold a frying pan. And I know you’re an amazing chef, but you’re going to have to take care of your body.”
My brows rose this time.
“An amazing chef?”
She just smiled. “I know that you worked at LaFleurs. I’ve had your food there. And I’ve been to your bar. Good food. And I know that all the changes you put in have been for the better. But we’re not talking about that right now.”
“Good. Because I’m not changing the way I cook.”
“That’s fine. It’s just going to be harder for you to get back into the swing of things. That means you’re going to have to do some physical therapy.”
I cursed, and she just looked at me, giving me a bland look. “Are you done yet?”
“I could probably go longer.”
“Anyway, physical therapy is a must. Because while I have a feeling if you really think about it, you can change the way you hold your phone and even the way you use a computer, you’re not going to be able to change the way you cook. That’s ingrained in you at this point. And as much as I’m going to tell you to not do it the same way every day, it’s just going to happen. But you need to be realistic. In order to make sure your hand is as strong as it can be, that means physical therapy. I have a few people in mind for you, and I can refer you. But you need to do it. If you don’t want to get another stress fracture by just like chopping something, you’re going to need it.”
“Physical therapy?”
“Physical therapy.”
I frowned and looked over the list that she gave me, shaking my head. “There’s one not on this list, a friend of mine. Can I see if she can help?”
“A friend?” she asked, her tone dry.
I shook my head. “Not a friend like that. An actual friend.”
Okay, so that wasn’t entirely truthful. I continuously thought about our one afternoon together, the one where my knees still ached because of the rug burn—and I knew her ass had to have some marks, too. Yeah, that one. The one that we didn’t talk about. We hadn’t talked about it before the attack, and we sure as hell hadn’t talked about it since.
So, yeah, Sienna was my friend. It was just harder to remain friends when we weren’t actually talking about it. Considering that I didn’t like talking about my feelings, the fact that I was even thinking about that was saying something.
“Is she a massage therapist, or a physical therapist?”
“It’s Sienna Knight. She’s a sports therapist, so almost exactly the same thing, but I’d rather work with someone I know. Plus, I’m sure I could actually fit into her schedule because we know each other.”
“I know S
ienna Knight. She’s one of the best at what she does. She also has a long waiting list to get into her rotation. She doesn’t exactly do what you need, but she’s trained.” She looked at me a moment before nodding. “If you can fit into her schedule, I’ll make it a referral for your insurance.”
“Sienna really is the best, isn’t she?” I asked, and the doctor gave me another of those looks.
I really was acting out of character, and I did not like it. There was just something about Sienna that made me act weird.
“Let’s see what we can do,” the doctor said, and then we went through exactly what my aftercare things would be.
Thankfully, by the time I got out of there, I was ready to go back to work, new hand and all.
I called Sienna right away. When she didn’t pick up, I hoped she was just at work and not avoiding me. The phone beeped, and I left a message.
“Hey, my cast is all off, but I need physical therapy. I can go to someone else, but I’d rather do it with you. Mostly because you know me. What do you say? Will you help a guy out?”
I hung up. I was a little nervous. What if she didn’t want to help me? What if she didn’t want me in her life at all? It was weird because all I could think about was that kiss in the stockroom. And her other kisses before. I’d had a crush on her before, just a little one when we were younger. But then I’d started dating Allison, and Sienna had just become my friend. It was all complicated, but then again, all of us were.
We had so many connections within the group, and it was sometimes hard to remember where one person began, and the other ended.
But I wanted things to get back to normal. I wanted to go back to my kitchen, I wanted my brothers to get off my back, and I wanted Sienna and me to get back to our normal fighting and laughing with one another. I didn’t like the fact that things were awkward. Maybe us working together on my hand would make things better.
My phone dinged, and I looked down at it.
Sienna: At work. But have your doctor send over the info. I’ll see what I can do.
I smiled. I knew this had to be the answer. Things would change.
They had to.
* * *
“Okay, you’re getting better, let’s see your mobility.”
Falling With You: A Fractured Connections Novel Page 8