“I like to have sex in odd places,” he reminded her.
“They have cameras,” she added.
He glanced around and groaned. “Probably a good point.”
“Do you have a car?” she asked.
Her soft brown eyes met his, and he was pleased to see how hers were glazed with desire. “Hell yes, I have a car.”
Like a couple of horny teenagers, they continued to kiss on the elevator. He almost managed to get his hand up her skirt before she swatted his hand. “Cameras,” she reminded him again.
“Why did I think this was a good place for your grand gesture?” he asked her. Scooping her off her feet, he strode through the museum lobby, giving the security guard a nod as he held open the door for them.
“My grand gesture?” the tempting minx asked as she toyed with his buttons and smiled.
Once he had her in the back of the car, he knelt at the floor near her feet. “Yeah, Waverley had me watch a bunch of movies to figure out how heroes won their ladies. Seemed kind of silly, but they all did something really romantic to woo the woman in question. The best I could come up with was the museum thing. I wanted you to see that I didn’t just need you for work but that I want something more with you. I don’t just want sex with you or you to work for me, although I do want those things.”
“You also want finger moustaches,” she said.
“I want to laugh with you. I want to reach for you when things get tough, and I want to be the thing you reach for.” When he saw she’d started to tear up, he leaned forward to take her hands. “Yeah, I’m not doing any of this right. You’re not supposed to cry, dammit.”
She moved to the edge of the seat, catching his face and capturing him with a kiss. Usually, he liked to be in control—to be the one to give orders when things got sexy. In this case, however, he found more reward in his own surrender than he would’ve in controlling her.
“One sec,” he panted. His breath was coming fast, and his body ached to have hers under him. “To my house,” he said into the intercom connecting him with the driver.
“I thought you liked to have sex in weird places,” she said. “Not into doing it in the car?”
“No,” he said, surprised to find the truth in the word. “I want you in my bed. I want time with you, time to explore you. I want you so weak with need that you can’t think of what your name is, not to mention noticing things like where we are.”
He nibbled at her fingertips between words, pleased when he heard her tiny gasp as he sucked one digit into his mouth.
“We’re here, sir,” came over the intercom.
It had seemed just moments since he’d gotten her into the car, but he’d noticed that about his time with Chelsea. Time seemed to buzz by, and he hadn’t a clue where it had gone. He’d been lost in her—her flavor, her scent, the way her lips turned red and ripe from his kisses.
She didn’t let him carry her inside, instead laughing as she ran ahead of him. That was okay—she could run, so long as it was his bed she headed for.
Once inside, he didn’t more than close the door before he spun her and pinned her against the intricately carved wood. He stripped her of the shirt, pulled her breasts out to rest in the cups of her bra, and all of it with his hand shaking like some kid on Christmas morning who just found out he’d gotten the very best gift of all.
The feel of her soft body against him had him grabbing her ass, pulling her closer as he again kissed her. He could kiss her forever.
“I have to admit…I kind of hoped we’d end up like this,” she admitted.
“Me too,” he said.
“I dressed for it, even,” she whispered. Her cheeks flushed with color, darkening the freckles he wanted to taste one by one.
“Oh yeah?” He cupped her breasts in his hands, pulling one closer so he could suck the nipple deep into his mouth before nipping it gently. “How so?”
Her groan was his answer, so he swept his hands under her skirt, urging the fabric upward. When his hand slid between her legs and encountered hot flesh, already moist with her desire, he let his head fall to her shoulder with a small moan. “You’re not wearing panties. You haven’t been, this whole time?”
“Yeah. I don’t know, thought it might turn you on.”
“Fuck,” he whispered, sliding his fingertip against her tight little bundle of nerves. She arched into the touch, bucking against his hands. “All I’m going to think about every time I see you from now on is going to be me wondering whether or not you’re wearing panties. You realize that, right?”
Her smile was full of feminine mystery, but then her hand cupped his already hard cock. “Good.”
With one arm, he lifted her until her legs wrapped around his waist. She bent, kissing him as he kept her in that position until he’d managed to maneuver her to the living room. He’d never make it up the stairs without taking her. “I need you now,” he whispered.
She’d managed to get his jacket off, and his shirt hung from his wrists. “Good,” she echoed, biting down on his nipple as he lay her down. “It is my turn to be greedy.”
“You deserve better,” he began, but she’d managed to undo his pants.
“I deserve now,” she said. When she stroked him once, held tight in her small palm, he couldn’t think of a reason to disagree.
He never managed to get his shirt off. Or her skirt, leaving it banded around her waist like a chunky belt when he filled her. She clawed at his back as he thrust inside, careful to keep up his gentle teasing of her clit until she screamed out his name.
“Aiden!” Her cry sounded like forgiveness and forever, all in one sound.
“Chels,” he whispered. And because he was weak with needing her, because he couldn’t imagine ever wanting another as much as he wanted her in that second, he reached for her.
Her arms were around him; their mouths merged; when he exploded with pleasure, he felt it from the hair on his head to the balls of his feet.
Unable to do more, he bent his head to rest it on her shoulder, breathing hard with exertion and shaky with pleasure. Little muscle movements deep inside her continued to rain sparkling shocks of pleasure through him, but he tried to remember how to move, worried his weight was crushing her.
Her hand smoothed his hair, and her lips rained kisses across his neck and ear. “I won’t leave you again,” she promised.
Finding his strength, he stood and carried her upstairs. They had a lot of lost time to make up for, and he wasn’t wasting a second of it. “I won’t give you reason to.”
Chapter Twenty
Chelsea
Her hands were sweating. She couldn’t do this. She spun and turned to flee but was stopped by a four-foot-tall, red-haired ball of energy. “If I can’t back out, you can’t, either,” Waverley said.
“You literally can’t. You’re related to them,” Chelsea pointed out. “I still can escape. It isn’t too late for me.”
“Yes, it is, actually.” Aiden wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You’re both chickens.”
Waverley’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I’m not a chicken.”
“Then go meet your grandparents,” he replied without missing a beat.
The little girl squared her shoulders and whispered under her breath, “They’re going to love me. I’m absolutely adorable.”
Chelsea overheard her pep talk to herself and broke free from Aiden’s embrace to kneel before the child. “You are adorable. How could they resist you? Plus, they’ve got ten years of spoiling to make up for. This is going to be awesome.”
Without warning, Waverley wrapped her arms around Chelsea and whispered in her ear. “Thank you. And I have my piece of quartz you gave me in my pocket for luck.”
Enjoying the child’s hug, Chelsea breathed her in deep. “You got this, kid.”
Waverley released her and stared up at her dad. Her voice was monotonous, as if she was proclaiming her doom, when she said, “Well, they’re your parents. Lead the way.”
“She’s bossy like her dad,” Chelsea pointed out. Aiden shrugged and smiled before turning to walk up the neat sidewalk toward the cute little two-story house. When Chelsea pictured where one of the richest men in the United States’ parents might live, it wasn’t something like this house. Then again, not a lot about Aiden fit into what she might have imagined, so why would his parents be any different?
She lingered back, giving Aiden and his daughter plenty of room to enter before her. If she had her way, she’d hide on the wide wraparound porch and rejoin the group when they left. Aiden promised them ice cream, if they were good, and a special “grown up” treat for her later…
If she survived that long.
The door was opened by a short woman who looked a lot like one of those sweet grandmothers off a commercial. All neat as a pin and smiling. Behind her, Chelsea could see what looked like an older version of Aiden—same hazel eyes, same build, but with gray hair. When the woman moved, Chelsea could see that Aiden’s father was wearing a long-sleeved turtleneck gray sweater and one of Aiden’s first products, The Useful Kilt.
She lifted her hand to stifle a giggle. Aiden’s dad was quite handsome, for an older guy, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Aiden would age just as gracefully. The grandmother was hugging Waverley, who was talking a mile a minute.
Chelsea backed down another step off the porch, but it was too late. Aiden spotted her. “Mom, I brought Chelsea along, too, although she’s trying to sneak away. She’s a chicken,” he said, pulling her to his side by interlocking their fingers.
“Traitor,” she whispered before turning a bright smile toward the older couple. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Finally, you bring her home? Sweetheart, the bracelet you sent for my birthday was just lovely. Thanks so much!” The woman moved forward and enveloped Chelsea into a hug.
Chelsea tried to think of an explanation—something that would make the woman think that the gift was from her son, for instance—but came up with nothing.
Instead, she glared at her boss and, when his parents turned to lead Waverley inside, kicked him in the shin.
…
Aiden
He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching as his dad pulled out the old train set. Something about the old toy had a charm which captured Aiden as a child, and Waverley proved no more immune to it than he had. As he set it up, the child examined each car and discussed what they meant with her grandfather.
Aiden could tell they were going to get along great. Behind him, he heard the gentle clunk of dishes and water. His mother preferred to do them by hand, still, and Chelsea had volunteered to help out after dinner. The women’s voices were soft, a balm, and Aiden couldn’t help but think that, although he hadn’t planned things to work out the way they did, he couldn’t have asked for more than that one moment of perfection.
He wanted to offer to help, but he could tell his mom was peppering Chelsea with questions—getting to know her—and didn’t want to ruin the chance for them to get to know each other. Plus, it was a good excuse not to do dishes.
He wasn’t a fool, after all.
When they’d finished, he caught Chelsea from behind for a quick hug and dropped a kiss on her neck before she escaped to the bathroom. Knowing her, she had to text Kimmie an update, so she’d be in there for a minute. Staying behind in the kitchen, he glanced over at his mother who was watching her husband and grandchild with a smile of her own.
“So do you like them?” he asked his mother.
She turned to face him, hands on hips. “What kind of question is that? I’m assuming, as you brought that girl to meet us and haven’t with any of the others, that this one is one you might be keeping?”
He nodded. “If I have my way, yes.”
“About damn time,” she growled. Chelsea came around the corner just in time to hear his mother swear, and her eyes went wide. “You’ve been talking about Chelsea for how long now? About damn time, and that’s the best I have for you, Aiden Ellis Kelley.”
She caught the shocked look on Chelsea’s face and waved her hand in dismissal. “Oh, dear, don’t look shocked. You work with this lot; you can’t pretend you’re offended by a little rough language.”
Chelsea’s laughter made his lips twitch. In seconds, he was laughing so hard, he was bent at the waist. His father peeked into the kitchen and asked, “What’d I miss?”
“Just me welcoming this girl to the family,” his mother said. Pulling Chelsea into another hug, she said, “Welcome home, Chelsea. I always wanted a daughter, and he brings me a daughter and granddaughter in one night.”
Aiden smiled, but then she narrowed her gaze on him. “And you? Meet me on the porch.”
She headed that direction, but he paused by Chelsea on his way through. She was tearing up. “Don’t cry.”
“Did you hear what she said?”
“Yes, and that’s why I said don’t cry.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Be right back.”
She sniffled again and swatted his ass. “Go get ’em, tiger.”
“Don’t ever do that again,” he warned her.
She smiled unrepentantly and went to help with the train.
On the porch, the night was crisp and the crickets were chirping. He glanced around at the neatly situated neighborhood—a far nicer place than the one he’d grown up in. When he’d offered to buy his parents a house, he thought they’d choose to live in the city, near him.
Instead, they’d asked for this. A quiet place, filled with small-town charm, even though it was in the suburbs. “What’s up, Mom?”
He leaned on the railing to the porch while his mother sat on the swing, moving her legs gently. “You’re going to marry her?”
“Hopefully, one day. For now, this is enough. When I think she might say yes, I’ll probably ask.” He didn’t lie, not to his mom. She would’ve seen right through him if he’d tried.
“Good. I have a bit of advice, if you’ll hear me out.”
He hadn’t expected any less. His father was the one who teared up, who loaned him money, who tried to fix things in their family. His mother? She was the dragon at the gate.
“You need to remember to put that little girl first.” Her green eyes narrowed on him. “But based on the way the two of them interact, I’m going to guess Chelsea wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He smiled. “I got lucky,” he admitted.
“You did.” She folded her hands neatly in her lap. “That wasn’t all I wanted to say.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t waste a second of it.”
His mother teared up, and he rushed across the porch to sit next to her on the swing. “Hey, no crying. This was a good night.”
“I know that,” she snapped. She rubbed a hand across her nose. “It goes by faster than you think. Just a moment ago, you were a little boy, playing with that same train. Then you were off in the military, and I lost nights of sleep…wondering where you were and if you were safe. When we came to this country, I didn’t think I’d have to give up my boy to keep the country safe, and we got lucky there, too. You’re still here. You’ve built a wonderful company, and I can’t say how proud we are, but none of that will keep you warm when your hair turns gray and your days run short. So don’t waste a moment of this time you have with either of those girls. Love them hard, because that’s what matters. The moments.”
He hugged his mother and promised, “We’ll come visit next weekend. Whenever I have Waverley, I’ll visit, and we’ll come home more often.”
Her smile was slow and devious. “And I didn’t even have to ask. I told them my boy was a clever one.”
Epilogue
Aiden
The packed ballroom nearly overflowed with the elite and wealthy, everyone putting their finest jewels and designer clothing on display as if to prove their worth. But Aiden Kelley wasn’t swayed by any of it. He shook the hand of those who made it a point to warm his palm—from bankers to CEOs to act
ors—because work required him to keep up his end of the facade, but there was only one face in the crowd he actively sought out…
The one he couldn’t quite see. He knew she was there, though, both because she’d promised to meet him and because he could almost sense her presence. Love was funny, and if it was crazy to need her so much, sign him up for his own padded room. He’d happily be crazy if it meant another day with Chelsea.
A hand clapped down on his shoulder, and he glanced into the eyes of Camden James, the notorious Penthouse Prince. “What’s up, man?” Camden asked. “Heard you were planning to tie the knot. Congrats.”
Shaking the other man’s hand, Aiden couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, the press hasn’t shut up about it. Apparently, or so I’ve been told, it is okay to date your assistant but not to fall in love with her.” He shrugged.
That kind of thing might have once mattered to Aiden—the illusion, after all, must be maintained. But somehow the idea of impressing strangers didn’t hold a candle to the idea of impressing Chelsea. After all, without her, none of it would mean anything.
Camden barked in laughter. “Yeah, I’m still rather bummed about that. If you’d just kept pissing her off for another week or two, I might have gotten to hire her. Why’d you have to make things right again?”
“Because I found the one thing I didn’t want to learn to live without.” He might not have shared that tidbit with others, but from what Chelsea had told him…Camden and Jeanie had been there for her when he’d messed everything up. He’d owe the other man for that, even if the debt remained unspoken.
“I always thought you were an all right guy, Kelley. Nice to be proven right once in a while. Say, did you hear they are still calling you by that nickname, too?”
Aiden frowned. “The press?”
“Yup,” Camden said before taking a sip from his champagne flute. He scanned the room, but when Aiden followed the direction of his head…he saw Camden’s gaze had settled on his new wife. Now rounded with child, Jeanie James looked as gorgeous as ever—the perfect picture of a wealthy wife. Rumor had it, though, that Jeanie was the head of a foundation that focused on helping kids. Supposedly, she wasn’t the typical trophy wife and instead spent her time trying to make a difference.
The Irish Prince (The Billionaire Dynasties) Page 15