The band members file offstage to the sound of yells and catcalls, and I turn to find Megan fanning herself with her hand. “My god, they were on fire tonight! Aidan is always hot — that’s the singer’s name, Aidan—”
“I know. I heard everyone yelling it,” I say. I haven’t decided if I’ll tell Megan what happened tonight. Something tells me I should keep it to myself. Now wouldn’t be the time anyway.
“He is always hot, but he was sizzling hot tonight. Whew! I just want to lick him!”
Megan cranes her neck, no doubt hoping the band will reappear, and I look past her to see Eric looking uncomfortable. I don’t understand why he hangs around.
“C’mon, Megan. We’d better get going,” he says. He takes her arm to steady her as the crowd pushes past us, heading for the door.
“Wait. I need to pee,” Megan says.
“We’ll wait here,” I say. I should go with her, but I’m trying to figure out if there’s any way I can tell Aidan I’m leaving. I told him I’d wait for him, and though a big part of me doesn’t want to risk falling under his spell again, I feel like I should say goodbye. Tell him I’m not going home with him.
People stream by while I debate the risks of going backstage to find him. Lots of the women going past have false eyelashes and tight, low-cut tank tops; they’re probably the ones who were crushing the stage and screaming for Aidan.
Which of them will he be taking home tonight instead of me? Not that I want to go home with him. At all.
Eric and I exchange glances. He has the long-suffering look of the permanent sidekick. I almost start to ask him why he puts up with it, but we don’t really know each other that well. “How are your classes?” I say instead.
“Fine,” he says in an offhand way that tells me he’ll probably be coasting to a 4.0. I’m still waffling about whether to go find Aidan, but just as I’m about to break away from Eric, Megan reappears. “The line was ridiculous!” she says. “I can wait. Let’s go.”
Eric follows her and after one more look around, I go along. Maybe it’s for the best that I don’t see Aidan. I’m a strong woman, but maybe I shouldn’t put that strength to the test by getting so close to him again. Why play with fire?
We make our way outside only to bump into another crowd on the sidewalk. A cluster of fans are gathered around the bar’s back exit and as we approach, I see Aidan’s dark head. My breath catches in my chest. I wasn’t expecting to see him again, and I’m surprised how just the distant sight of him causes a physical reaction.
“I think they’re signing autographs,” Megan says. “Wanna go over?”
Eric, bless him, speaks up. “No, Megan, let’s go. I have an early practice tomorrow.”
I give him a smile, both because I’m grateful that he’s saving me from thinking up an excuse not to see Aidan, and because I’m proud of him for asserting himself for a change.
Megan gives a little huff, but she continues walking. “Maybe next time, Amber,” she says.
“Yeah, next time,” I reply. There will definitely not be a next time. Even if I have to take extra courses or find a second job, I will make sure I’m busy every weekend night for the rest of the year.
Since I won’t be coming here again, I allow myself one more backward glance. It’s a mistake. Aidan’s grinning, that sexy, smirking grin he’d turned on me earlier. But now he’s aiming it at the petite blonde in front of him, and he’s wielding a Sharpie. The blonde pulls down her top, and Aidan scrawls his name across her bare breast.
Chapter 7
Amber
As Megan reminds me, college is about experiencing new things, and yay me!, I’m about to experience being on the receiving end of tutoring. In high school, I actually helped other students when they had trouble. And though science was never my strong suit, I got along fairly well by memorizing facts and studying hard.
I hoped that my required first year science courses would cover more or less the same ground as my high school classes; after all, how hard could something with “101” in its title be? Ha! More like Chemistry 1001, it feels like.
I met with my professor last week, but it was both frustrating and fruitless. He’s the type who understands something so well, so intuitively, that he can’t really grasp how anyone else can fail to understand it.
So here I am, crawling into the tutoring center, with the hope that someone can help me understand bonds and reactions before I flunk out.
I fill out a brief form at the front desk and am escorted to a small room where I’m told my tutor will join me shortly. I’m really uncomfortable about needing a tutor, and wonder what will happen if I can’t master chemistry even with this extra help.
Aside from Saturday night, I tried to study all weekend, in between keeping up with my campus job and my other classwork, but I just couldn’t get it to click. Of course, Saturday night’s events did not help my ability to focus. While I was staring at chemical formulas, images of Aidan would push their way into my head, flooding me with heat.
Then I’d picture him signing his autograph on a fan’s chest, and the heat would turn to anger, even though I know I don’t have the right to be angry with him. He was just doing his thing, and it’s my fault for getting caught up in it and thinking that his brief attention meant anything beyond sex.
Aidan is a player and a manwhore. Aidan is definitely not for me. Aidan is… standing in the doorway?
I look up from my phone, expecting to see the tutor I’ve been assigned, and instead I see him. What the hell? And this time he’s not just in my mind, he’s actually here, though he looks different than Saturday night.
He’s still in jeans, but they’re neater and newer looking, and a snug Rolling Stones t-shirt stretches across his chest, covering those gorgeous pecs. His hair has the same rolled-out-of-bed quality to it, but his usually hypnotic eyes show the same surprise that I’m feeling.
“Amber? I saw your name on the sheet, but never thought…” He trails off. Confusion is a very strange look on him. His expression is soft; his posture is different — I have a weird sense of unreality, as if either the bar or now has to be a dream.
“What are you doing here?” I pull my books toward me, instinctively putting a barrier between the two of us.
He waves the paper he’s holding at me. “Apparently I’m your tutor.” While my jaw is no doubt dropping to the table, his look of surprise quickly shifts to the predatory expression I saw on Saturday.
Aidan leans on the doorframe and raises an eyebrow. “I guess you’d like me to teach you some things?”
Wow, how did he manage to make those simple words sound so naughty? How does he manage to look so damn good? How on earth is it possible that he’s my tutor?
“Or are you here to apologize for running out on me Saturday night?” he says.
I take a deep breath and straighten my spine. “Technically, you ran out on me first.” I’m surprised by the brief flicker of embarrassment that crosses his face.
“You said you’d wait for me.”
“You looked really busy,” I say, a flare of temper rising in my voice. The memories of him seducing every female in the audience from the stage and then signing their bare flesh have me up and out of my chair, quickly gathering my things. “This won’t work,” I say as I try to move past him.
“Whoa, wait. I’m sorry. I should have told you I was in the band.” His arm stretches across my path, and I curse myself for noticing the brawny definition under his tattoo. I stare at those muscles rather than look up at his face. “I knew you didn’t know, but it was awkward … I’m sorry I had to leave you.”
I’m frozen in place. I want out, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling the pull, even though I’m avoiding his hypnotic eyes.
Aidan touches my chin, and I flinch at the heat of his fingers on my skin. He lifts my face so that I can’t help but meet his gaze. “Why did you leave?” he asks, his voice as soft as a caress.
What am I going to say? I’
m not going to explain to him that he made me feel special, but then I realized I wasn’t. I’m definitely not going to tell him I’m a virgin who doesn’t want to be his one-night hookup.
I step backward, out of his reach, and fumble for a change of topic. “You’re a tutor here?” I still can’t quite believe it.
One side of his mouth turns up into that gorgeous grin, but this time it looks more friendly than flirtatious. “Yeah. Is that so hard to believe?”
“That you’re a student here, and a tutor, and a singer in a rock band?” My tone lets him know that yes, I do find it all a bit much to believe.
“What can I say, baby? I work hard. I play hard. I’m always hard.” He touches a hand to his jeans and I flinch again. “Especially when you’re around.”
I roll my eyes at him just before my irritation flares into anger. “Give me a break! I don’t have time for this. I’m about to fail my class and I need actual help.” I start to push past him again, this time with more conviction.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He blocks the doorway with his whole body this time, hands up in in feigned surrender. “I was just kidding. I happen to be great at chemistry and I’m the best person here to tutor you.”
“Really? And you’ll actually help me? If I fail chemistry I’ll lose my scholarship, so I seriously don’t have time for any of your cocky bullshit.”
Aidan laughs out loud, and dammit if I don’t love the sound. “All right, no cocky bullshit, all business. Noted. Please have a seat, Ms. …” He looks down at the paper in his hands. “Ms. Paulson.” He gestures to a chair. “What brings you in today? Chemistry?”
I narrow my eyes at him and draw in a deep breath. Does he mean it? Can I trust him? To help me academically, I mean. I look toward the door, then back at Aidan, and tell myself I can always arrange for a different tutor if today doesn’t work out.
I put my bag down and take a seat, and Aidan closes the door and sits next to me. It’s a round table, and I wonder if he should sit across from me, but I guess that would make studying more difficult.
“I’m on scholarship too,” he says as he lays his phone and a notepad on the table.
“Really?” This surprises me quite a bit. Somehow, my mind equated “sexy manwhore band member” with the stereotypical spoiled rich guy who doesn’t have to work for anything. Maybe he understands financial struggles the way I do.
For some reason, knowing this softens my opinion of him a little, but then I remind myself to keep my guard up. If I don’t, I’ll never be able to keep my mind on chemistry. Not the kind I need to study, anyway.
I’m actually feeling all kinds of chemistry every time his knee bumps mine under the table. Is he doing that on purpose? His behavior, at least that taking place above the table, is all professional now. He’s looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to get organized.
I pull out my notes and my calculator, and bring up the current lesson. Maybe Aidan will have the magic touch and finally make this all click for me. Just the thought of a magic touch has me remembering our encounter at the bar, and I have to pull my mind away from the memory and back to the present.
His knee bumps mine once again, completely innocently, I think, but sparks shoot out from the point of contact, and my whole body feels alive. Focus, Amber, focus.
I glance at him and he’s looking friendly and normal, not at all flirtatious, so I launch in. “The course started out fine. I thought I was going to be okay, but then we got into chemical equations and it just all fell apart.”
I risk another quick look at him, then flip through pages on my tablet as I continue. “I’m good at math, I really am, but I can’t even begin to make sense of balancing these.”
Aidan reaches over and taps my screen. Even his fingers are sexy. How is that possible? He backs up a few pages, and then says, “Let’s see. Show me how you would approach this.”
He points to an exercise as he tilts the screen in my direction. I read, fighting my nervousness as I think through the problem. Feeling self-conscious, I start to work and talk through my mental process.
Surprisingly, Aidan helps put me at ease. His expression is focused and patient as I continue. When I get stuck, he steps in with guidance, and though I’m still struggling, his calm manner keeps me from getting discouraged.
Together we work through a few exercises and I start to feel something like hope. I can’t say I’m quite getting it all yet, but he explains things in different ways, and offers new approaches that I hadn’t learned before.
As I’m starting on another problem, Aidan’s phone buzzes. “Our time is up,” he says, silencing it without looking at the screen. “We can work on that next time. Can you come back Thursday, this same time?”
I quickly think through my class schedule and I’m sure disappointment shows on my face when I reply. “No, I can’t make Thursday. What other times are you here?”
“Just Monday and Thursday. Maybe I’ll see you next week?” Aidan slides his chair back from the table and I feel a small wave of panic. I think I was close to making real progress, and a week seems like a long time to wait.
“Oh,” I say, deflating with that single syllable, wondering if I should ask for his recommendation of another tutor.
He pauses and looks into my eyes, his expression thoughtful. I’d been so focused on my lesson that I almost — only almost — forgot how beautiful his eyes are. They’re so penetrating, and they’re almost pretty, with their thick, dark lashes. But he is all man, from his eyes, to the sexy stubble on his jaw, down to—
Aidan starts to speak and I pull my attention back up to his face. “We could get together outside of here,” he says. “You could come to my place.” Then his playful smirk makes a brief appearance. “To study,” he adds.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure that’s not a good idea,” I say.
“I live with my dad, Amber. All business, remember? But that’s okay if you don’t want to. I just thought you might like extra help.”
“I would. I really would,” I say, surprised yet again by the reality of Aidan compared to how I’d been imagining him. He lives with his father? The more I find out about him, the more I realize how little I actually know about him, and how much I’ve assumed.
“What about Wednesday afternoon?” he says.
“I can do that. Is your place far?”
“No, just off campus. Let me see your phone.” He holds his hand out, and I give him my cell without even thinking. He punches in a number, and a moment later his phone rings.
“There. That way we can get in touch if we need to reschedule.” He hands the phone back to me, and our fingers brush as I take it. Heat rushes through me, and I hope he’s too distracted to notice the blush I can feel creeping up my face.
I’m still not convinced it’s the best idea, but it’s really nice of him to offer his time to me, and he has definitely been a good teacher today. I guess I’ll have to resign myself to spending time with a ridiculously good-looking man in order to bring up my chemistry grade.
While Aidan watches, expression serious, I put our meeting in my calendar. “All set then?” he asks.
I nod, get up from my seat, and put everything away in my backpack. When I look up, Aidan’s standing right in front of me. “We’re off the clock now,” he says in a husky voice.
Chapter 8
Amber
Aidan focuses those devastating brown eyes on mine, hooks his fingers in my belt loops, and starts to pull me to him, slowly, very slowly. “Funny thing about chemistry. Some reactions start with a small spark.”
He eases me toward him bit by bit, and I realize he means to kiss me. I know he’s not right for me and I should stop him, but as he brings me closer, the part of me that thinks logically is shutting down.
A corner of my mind is screaming that it’s a bad idea, but my body is saying, What’s the harm in one little kiss?
His arm circles my waist, and it feels so right when he pulls me against him. The hard
wall of his muscles presses against my breasts, setting me on fire while I try in vain to resist.
“Can you feel it?” he whispers, just before he lowers his head. His lips part mine, his tongue finds mine immediately, and it’s as if no time has passed since we were tangled in each other’s arms at the bar. He picks right back up where he left off, and my body goes from zero to sixty in two seconds.
That’s not true. I was never at zero. From the moment he walked into this room, I was idling and starting to accelerate.
There’s a spark, all right. His kiss heats my lips and starts a fire in my belly. I’m melting from the inside out.
His breathing changes as he tangles his hand in the hair at my scalp and pulls softly, tilting my head back before he kisses a hot trail down my neck. His mouth burns on my skin. My entire body is lit up, eager for his touch.
When his hands slide down to my ass and squeeze, I can’t help moaning. I want his hands on me, everywhere all at once.
He claims my mouth again, this time with an urgency that’s new to me. I’ve kissed guys, of course I have, but it’s never felt like this before. There’s no fumbling uncertainty here; Aidan knows exactly what he’s doing. The lust, the desire, the raw hunger in his kiss both frightens and excites me.
He scoops me up, his hands at the backs of my thighs, his fingers teasingly close to the part of me that’s burning the hottest for him. With instincts I didn’t know I had, I wrap my legs around his waist while I grab tighter to his strong shoulders. He moves us a few steps until my back hits the wall.
He presses my head back with the force of his kiss, his mouth hot and moving fast on mine. At the same time he pushes his hips to mine, pinning me between him and the flat, cool wall behind me, and I feel his erection again. There is absolutely no mistaking it this time. He changes the angle of his body, and his hard cock, straining against rough denim, rubs against a spot on me that makes me cry out.
“Aidan!” I barely manage to keep my voice low, some distant piece of my consciousness reminding me that we are in a small room in a very public area. For the most part, I’m beyond caring. All I want is to feel him again, just like that.
Beast Brothers 2: An MFM Twin Ménage Romance Page 14