I caught the slight hitch in his breathing, just before going over. Now he lay beside me, silent. Was he afraid I’d never really said it? Was he afraid I didn't mean it, or would take it back? Or was he afraid he would never hear me say it again? I snickered. This self-made man, the epitome of masculinity, was afraid of his little kitten.
“You find something amusing, kitten?”
I brushed the hair from his forehead. “Yes, I find it fascinating that I could wrap you around my little finger with three small words.”
His amber eyes glowed and his erection stiffened. If I’d known that all it was going to take was three little words to get him to fuck my brains out, I would have said them hours ago.
This time my orgasms wouldn't push me over; he was there to anchor me through the waves.
This could possibly be the last time I would have him this willing, this complaint. So much of this was still new to me, and I was curious. He fucked me and I rode him. We feasted on each other unrelentingly, stopping only to breathe, until he filled me with his warmth. His guttural caveman growl was confirmation he had exploded inside my womb. I allowed myself to collapse on top of him, sated, exhausted, and barely conscious.
I watched the flames flicker in the fireplace. Had I experienced heaven, or was this the most sinful pleasure allowed to man? As exhausted as he must have been, he still managed to carry me to the shower, rinse us off, and take me back to his bed. Snuggled against his chest, taking in his manly scent, I could never remember a time I had been this content.
“Aaron, when did you first know you loved me?”
“The minute I saw those curls bounce up those church stairs.”
I laughed. “That was lust over my curls, not love.”
“I prefer to call it divine intervention.” He nuzzled and kissed my neck.
“You never stood a chance, did you?” I teased.
“That’s what your brother told me.”
“How much did my brother tell you?”
“You didn’t think he gave me the information I wanted without an inquisition, did you?”
“Oh, God, how much did you tell my brother?” I panicked.
“Nothing your brother didn’t figure out for himself, but I sugar coated some of it. Katie, they knew you weren’t a virgin, no matter how much you wanted them to think you were,” he snickered. “Are you blushing, kitten?”
“My boyfriend discussing my sex life with my brothers is not high on my list of things I want to think about, so yeah, I’m blushing.”
“You called me your boyfriend.”
“It was a figure of speech. Don’t go reading too much into it.”
“I’m just teasing you, kitten. Our sex life was never mentioned, but I’m sure your brothers can put two and two together.” He kissed my forehead. “Now, stop worrying and get some sleep. I have a big day planned for us tomorrow.”
He had big plans for tomorrow, but I wondered, if he knew what plans I had for him, would he still feel the same?
Chapter 25
Katie
He made love to me again during the night, or was it early morning? I couldn't be sure. His arousal against my back woke me, and my body responded instantly to his touch. I had no idea what time I finally fell deeply asleep.
The bed was soft and warm, but it was missing something—it was missing him.
I swung my feet to the floor and reached for the robe on the chair. I snuck to the main bathroom to take care of business. I assumed he was doing the same in the en suite. I listened but didn’t hear the shower. Maybe he was waiting for me.
I rummaged through the bag Aaron had the girls pack—toothbrush, deodorant, hair brush…a box of condoms and a couple pairs of thongs.
“Very funny girls”, I muttered to myself..
Where were my clothes?
I stomped to the spare closet and flung the door open. I was smiling when I should have been furious with his presumptuous ass. Before my eyes hung a beautiful light down jacket, warm leggings, and a knit sweater—a perfect combination for a walk through Central Park. At the bottom of the closet was my travel suitcase. I assumed that’s where the rest of my clothes were. Sitting beside them were my well-worn sneakers. The man was smart enough to not try and buy me footwear without me trying them on. Apparently I had taught him something on our second meeting in the VIP room.
I heard the shower running, and my first instinct was to join him. I loved the way he took care of me in the shower. I had not experienced shower sex, but I doubted whether my body had recovered enough from yesterday's marathon to partake. There was some residual soreness, but there was also arousal from imagining his naked muscular body, wet and engorged.
This could possibly be my last chance to be with him intimately and completely his. I found myself tiptoeing toward the shower. My body clenched and melted at the anticipation of what was to come.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when Aaron’s phone pinged. What if it was work—his own work, not the stuff he had been doing while at the main office? He owned a multimillion dollar company, and it made sense he would check in while here. Surely it could wait until we finished our shower?
I reached for the door handle and Aaron’s phone pinged again, several pings in a row this time. I opened the bathroom door. “Aaron, your cell is going nuts. It must be really important.”
“Not as important as you joining me in the shower, kitten.”
I laughed and disrobed, looking forward to the shower, when I was caught off guard by the ringing of the house phone. “Aaron, now it’s the house phone. It must be important.”
I reached for it, even at Aaron's request to let it ring.
Aaron exited the bathroom wearing only a towel around his torso, his hair messy and dripping, his body glistening. His beautiful wolf in sheep's clothing wicked grin was wiped from his face as his predatory amber eyes glared at me.
“Katie, who was on the phone?” Of course he didn't want me to answer his phone. The last thing he would have wanted was for me to find out he was that he had a fiance. “Katie, who was on the phone, and why are you wearing yesterday’s clothes?” He grabbed me by the arm. “Katie, stop and talk to me.”
What was I supposed to tell him—that I was hurt, confused, pissed as hell, and the only thing going through my mind was how to get as far away from him as possible?
I pulled my arm from his hold. I needed to find my clutch. It contained my cell and my credit card.
The only thing registering in my mind was Braden's word's—never be without your cell phone and your credit card. These are your lifeline in any situation. He had pounded it into my head when I had started dating. Protect yourself, Katie. Don't depend on someone else to do it for you.
How many women had my brother had to rescue, trapped, because they trusted so completely?
I reached for the door handle, my escape within reach. I was suffering from tunnel vision, and my only goal was to get away. Someone was talking to me—no, yelling at me.
My trance was broken by the half-naked man standing in front of my escape route.
“Katie, who was on the phone?” His low husky growl set my senses on edge. Damn my body for betraying me. I hated him at this moment, yet my body craved his touch. All the more reason to get as far away from him as possible.
I stared him down. “The concierge would like you to know your fiancée is on her way up,” I spit at him. “I thought it might be a good idea for your whore to be gone before she gets here.” My eyes stung from holding back the tears I refused to let fall. Even as the bile rose in my throat, I found the courage to tell him to move. Demanded he move.
“Katie, let me explain!”
I gasped and my face twisted in horror. “Wrong answer, Aaron. The right one would be, ‘I don't have a fiancée,’ not ‘let me explain’.” How does one explain to the person you professed to love hours earlier that you're engaged to someone else? In my mind, there was no explanation.
I pushed Aaron asid
e, opened the door, and saw a stunningly beautiful, sophisticated woman coming off the elevator. Of course he would be engaged to someone like that. Marry the trophy wife and keep a mistress on the side. It was every clichéd stereotype I had read about.
I truly was naive.
“You truly are a bastard.” I left him standing in the doorway as I ran for the elevator. The last word I heard before the door closed was Aaron begging me not to go dressed like I was.
He was right, I wasn’t dressed for the November cold.
Away from his touch, his scent, his scrutinizing amber eyes, I began to think more clearly—to think the way my brothers had taught me. Get off on the second floor and take the stairs. He would have called down to the concierge and asked them to stop me. Get out of the building and find a safe haven. Church had always been the Steele family’s sanctuary.
Here in his town that was enemy territory.
Working on pure adrenaline, I flagged a cab and gave him my destination. He shot me a worried expression. I assured him I knew where I going. Of course he was worried. He had jailbait sitting in his back seat in a cocktail dress, looking and smelling like I had sex all night. I was asking to be taken where no respectable young woman would go by herself.
There was only one person I knew in New York, one place where I could wait for one of my brothers to come and take me home. I had let myself become one of those girls my brother had to swoop in and save.
This was all Braden's fault. He had better instincts than this. He had better not dare utter another ‘I told you so’ ever again.
The cab dropped me off at a dingy alley. A sane person would have jumped back into the cab and gone in the other direction, but my brother’s work took them all over the world, and in my phone was a list of safe houses. This was the one I choose.
I could hear the bartender announce, “jailbait, two o’clock.” He didn't even try to hide his disdain. The waitress turned around, and I finally felt safe enough to break down. I flung myself into the woman's arms. “Amy.”
“Fuck, Katie, what are you doing here?” I had only met Amy once. Her one-night stand with my brother Gabe had me running into the young woman. My brothers had always been discreet. But Gabe had invited Amy to stay for breakfast. Good thing I had stocked the fridge.
She was a young smart EMT who had patched up my brothers on more than one occasion. She also happened to work in the dive bar my brother’s used as a safe house. An out of the way place with more back doors and alley exits than the White House. “I need an extraction,” I told her.
“Fuck,” the guy behind the bar swore. “This way, jailbait.” I followed him and Amy into a back room. He left Amy to take care of me while I explained how I had ended up arriving there. Amy gave me a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt to change into.
“Of all the safe houses in your phone, you chose this one?” Amy shook her head.
“I knew you worked here part-time, and I was hoping you would be here while I waited to get picked up.”
“Gabe’s in deep. I don’t think I can call him, Katie.”
“Oh, I don’t want Gabe to pick me up. I expect Braden to do it. It’s his fault I’m here.”
Amy raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t give me that look. I came to New York to celebrate my birthday and that’s exactly what I am going to do until that traitor gets here.” I was determined and no one was going to change my mind.
“Will you at least sit with some friends of mine? I don’t need Braden coming down on me because I let you get into more trouble than you’re already in, okay?”
“I’m sorry, Amy. I’m not looking to get you into any trouble. I just had to get out of there, you know?”
“Sure, honey.” Amy pulled out her cell. “Before I make this call, are you sure you want me to call Braden, not Liam?”
I thought about that question for a few seconds. Did I really need Braden to come and get me? I had my credit card, and I could take the bus or a cab now that I looked more like a college student than a jailbait hooker.
Or was I secretly hoping to hold this against Braden for future leverage? And what would happen to Aaron once Braden got his hands on him?
“Katie, do you want me to make this call?” Amy repeated.
Chapter 26
Aaron
I paced the apartment. Of course my first words should have been that I didn’t have a fiancée, not ‘let me explain.’ Technically, I did not have a fiancée. The negotiations I had discussed with Beth’s father had been just that—a discussion. No deals were made, and I should have made that clear three weeks ago when I got Beth’s text asking me to do the right thing.
Now I was going to lose the only thing that had mattered to me in a very long time. She was worried about breaking my heart, but she’d probably never considered I might break hers. I would never forgive myself.
I had to call her brother. I had no idea where to even start looking for her. She didn't get off on the main floor. I had called Security to keep her in the building until I could get dressed and come get her. She must have gotten off on one of the other floors, taken the stairs, and left through the alley and taken a cab.
She’d grabbed her purse. She was determined to find it before she left. It must have had her cell in it, so she would have called one of her brothers by now anyway. No point in delaying the inevitable. I was going to get my ass handed to me like never before.
Done stalling, I made the call.
I turned off my phone, almost feeling better about the situation—almost. I put on my coat, went downstairs, and hailed a cab. The address sent to me was one I was familiar with. I had met my brother Richard there one night. It wasn’t in the nicest part of town, but it harbored an elite clientele.
I asked the cabbie if he would wait, only to be laughed at. I didn’t blame the driver. No one should end up in this part of town unless by accident. Standing in the dank alley with walls covered in graffiti and the stench of rotting garbage, I made a call. Then I banged on the door and it open automatically, leading to a dark hallway.
If I hadn’t been here before, I would be certain Katie’s brother had sent me to a crack house as revenge. I arrived at a door that had a sign that read ‘Restroom.’ I pushed it open and entered the bar.
The place was well hidden. It catered to those who like to let loose and not have to worry about tabloids and paparazzi. Celebrities, businessmen, bikers—all types came and went.
There, sitting at a corner table, was my kitten. She wasn't sitting alone. I immediately recognized the man at her table.
I knew that Katie saw me coming her way because she leaned over and whispered something in the ear of the man sitting to her right. He was not just any man but a rock god, none other than Maddox Dogger of Get Bent. And he was known for taking care of the ladies. Only this lady did not need the likes of a rocker man whore taking care of her. It was my job to take care of her—a job I had failed at miserably.
That was going to change. I would explain the situation to Katie, and she would forgive me. She had to. I approached the table and noticed empty shot glasses in front of her. I made eye contact, pulled out a chair, and sat across.
I checked my watch. “Kitten, it’s not even noon. Have you been drinking?” I needed to know her state of mind if I was going to try to reason with her.
“Fuck.” The man with the over styled hair and bright blue eyes swore and pulled out two five-hundred dollar bills and put them in Katie’s palm as she held out her hand.
A quizzical look prompted the man to explain. “My friend Katie here bet me that you would first call her kitten, and then second, ask if she was drunk or if she had been drinking.”
“How did your friend Katie here plan on paying that bet if she lost,” I mocked, never losing eye contact with her.
“With the money I fleeced out of them playing pool,” Katie snickered, “and I haven't been drinking. I’ve been playing a drinking game.”
“Is that so?”
I wanted to rebuild some kind of rapport with her before insisting she return with me. First, I had to get her to warm up to me, and then maybe she would trust me enough to let me explain. If I had to play her game for now, I would.
“Yes,” Katie’s eyes brightened. “It’s called ‘never have I ever,’ and guess what?”
“What?” I leaned closer.
“I have been really, really naughty, and I lost every round except one.” She took the first empty glass and placed it in front of me. “Never have I ever had sex with my boss.” She put her hand over her mouth. “Oops.”
She took a second empty glass and stacked it on top of the first. “Never have I ever had sex in public.” Katie took the third empty glass, and with each statement her tone turned more bitter. “Never have I ever had sex in a limo.”
“That’s enough, Katie.” I took her hand as she reached for the fourth empty glass.
“Don’t stop me now, I’m getting to the really good one. This one was a double. ‘Never have I ever had sex with a married man,’” she slammed the fourth glass on top and then a fifth, “and met his wife. Now, technically, you're not married—just engaged, but I asked Mad-Dog and he says that counts.”
I picked up the last shooter that was still full and put it in front of her. “So, what do I need to do to get you a perfect score, kitten?” My own frustration boiling over, I was no longer enjoying this little game. There was going to be no reasoning with Katie until she was sober.
“Oh, the last one is a doozy. ‘Never have I ever had angry breakup sex in the alley.’” Katie picked up the drink and threw it in my face. “And, no, you can’t help me get a perfect score.” Katie crossed her arms across her chest and sneered.
A waitress approached the table and introduced herself to me. “Fuck, Maddox, I told you to keep an eye on her, not get her drunk!”
“Gorgeous here is not a minor, and did you know it was her birthday? Like I always say, gorgeous, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”
Bastard Heir (The Heirs Book 3) Page 16