“No. No other plans. But what restaurant could possibly have a vacant table at this late hour on a Friday night?”
“I know a place.”
“Well, okay. If you’re sure.”
“I don’t say anything I’m not sure about.”
“God, you’re a confident bloke.”
He flashed her a grin and a wink.
“Can I have a quick shower and change of clothes first? I need to put Stella in the closet for the night.”
“No hurry.” He pulled his mobile from his pocket. “I’ll organise us a table.”
Her smile this time was bright, the strain on her face disappearing.
Calling a friend, he was able to pull some strings and get a table reserved. Pocketing the mobile, he looked down to find Red lying across his boots. Squatting, he rubbed the cat, eliciting a full-on purr from him. Within seconds Carrot pranced through the door, spotted him and pranced on over trailing a purple scarf from his mouth.
“You’ve been raiding the shop again.” Aaron parted Carrot from his prey, much to the cat’s disgust. Aaron compensated by rubbing behind his ears, laughing softly when Carrot went a little glassy-eyed and slid to the floor in a boneless, pleasure-hazed heap.
Ginger glared balefully from the doorway. Aaron snapped his fingers but Ginger looked the other way. Aaron crooned to him, enticing him, but Ginger’s ears twitched and with a look of disdain, he disappeared back into the hallway.
The cat had as much attitude as his owner.
Amused, Aaron continued to love up Red and Carrot until Shea appeared in the doorway.
Straightening, he looked appreciatively at her hour-glass figure clad in a capped-sleeved black dress with a black gauzy overlay dotted with tiny sprigs of blue flowers. The wide belt emphasized the smallness of her waist, the generous bosom above it, the pleasingly curved hips below it. A ruffled hemline danced around her knees, medium-heeled black pumps on her feet. The thick brunette hair was caught up at the sides and left loose at the back, falling around her shoulders in silken waves. A soft shade of red lipstick and nothing else replaced the heavy make-up.
She didn’t need anything else. Walking up to her, Aaron slid his arm around her waist to draw her into him. Those naturally thick eyelashes framed the amazing whiskey-coloured eyes, the desire simmering within them at his touch making him feel that he could quite happily drown in the hot decadence.
Lowering his head, he touched his mouth to hers, feeling her lips give beneath his immediately. As naturally as though she’d done it hundreds of times, she leaned into him, surrendering herself to him.
Her flowery scent filled his senses, the sensation of her arms sliding around his neck as she arched up into him, pressing her breasts against his chest.
Hot desire crawled through him, starting low in his loins, spreading out in hot fingers of ardour - unsated, pulling at him, making him grip her hungrily as he devoured her mouth.
She moaned softly.
All thoughts of dinner, the restaurant, everything faded before the carnal need that clamped down on him with greedy rapacity.
He’d seen her several times during the week, spent some time with her after work, but he’d always been mindful of Cole being around and had restrained his natural inclination to shove Shea against a wall and have his increasingly wicked way with her.
And with Shea, his thoughts often strayed into wicked territory.
When at work he was focussed on the job, never faltered in his duty, but when he surfaced from the job, took a break, he was conscious of her being next door.
It had been only four days since he’d had her in his bed. Every Monday morning had become, as she laughingly put it, their ‘love-fest morning’. Cole was at school, she had a day off, and they ended up in his bed. Every Monday morning.
It wasn’t enough.
But now he had her in his arms, they were alone, and his every dominant instinct, every carnal thought, zeroed in on her.
Wasn’t hard when she reciprocated. Vaguely he was aware of her little purse falling to the floor, but there was nothing vague in the way she kissed him back - just as hungrily, just as deeply.
Her hands curled into the lapels of his jacket, peeled it back off from his shoulders to toss aside over the table. Busy fingers pulled his shirt from his pants, nimble fingers undid the buttons and then her smooth palms pressed to the naked skin of his chest, heat jumping between them to curl deep.
Fisting the hem of her skirt in both hands, Aaron used his body to crowd her back against the wall, running hot lips down the smooth skin of her throat, finding the little pulse jumping so erratically and sucking hard, marking her, claiming her for everyone to see.
The ever present desire that simmered below the surface whenever she was near welled up and he released it, let it overwhelm him, felt it surge forth in a hot, heady, craving of Shea - of her body, her curves, her sweetness, her passion - wanting it all.
Going to have it all.
The fire in his loins was pooling, swelling his shaft, making the hard, thickened length press almost painfully against his jeans.
Then cool fingers were there, dipping beneath the waistband of his jeans, a snap, a tug, the waistband loosening as Shea unsnapped and unzipped the jeans, her thumbs hooking into the waistband to shove the material downwards, taking his jocks at the same time.
Open-mouthed kisses, hot and decadent, purely carnal, moulded them together as they shifted, moved, sought to get more of each others flesh.
Her hands slipped down to cup his buttocks, fingers spreading before she dug her nails lightly into his muscled, masculine, harder planes.
The bite had fiery prickles of lust spearing through him.
Dragging the skirt of her dress upwards around her waist, Aaron gripped her panties, twisted his fingers in the sides and ripped the fragile lace away, his breath hot and harsh as he lifted his head enough to catch her reaction to his sudden roughness.
Shea’s eyes were pools of fiery whiskey, dark and exotic, her lips swollen from his hard kisses, her breath fast, panting from his devouring kisses that had taken her breath away.
Her eyes darkened, the lashes slipping down as her arm moved.
Aaron’s breath sucked in hard when her palm slid between his thighs, her knee nudging between his in a silent order to give her room, and she pressed into him, her laugh low, carnal, a hot tease feathering across his lips as he looked down at her.
When that soft palm cupped his sac, Aaron’s neck arched back sharply, one hand coming over her head to slam hard against the wall, bracing himself as she fondled him, rubbed him carefully between her fingers.
His shaft jerked, stiffened further, ached with unspent desire, filling so hotly, readying to bury into a silken, moist cavern.
Her body.
God, Aaron wanted to bury himself inside her, bury himself so deep and hard she wouldn’t know where she began and he ended.
But right now, knuckles white in the hand he still had fisted in her skirt, his other hand braced against the wall, he could only wallow wantonly in the spiralling sensations with which she tortured him so deliciously.
Moving his sac, rolling it across her palm, cupping him before pressing his sac up against his body.
Then one finger pressed against his perineum behind the sac, feathered, pressed again in an insistent, gentle, careful yet firm pulse.
“Jesus!” His hips jerked, snapped forward.
He almost went into overload when Shea’s small hand wrapped around his shaft and started stroking him, sliding from base to head where she pressed her thumb flat against his slit, spreading the moisture gathering at the tip around the head before sliding her hand back down to the base of the shaft.
Hot lights exploded behind his closed eye lids, his teeth clamping together as she continued to rhythmically pump him with one hand while playing with his sac in the other.
Driving him mad.
Driving him higher.
Driving him harder.
So incredibly hard as he thrust into her hand, her teasing, husky laugh splintering through him.
Ardour slammed into him, shoved him under, dragged him back up as he clamped down with iron will to prevent the explosion.
He wasn’t going alone.
He wanted her with him, every step, every burst, every lust-filled swell of the way.
Grabbing her hand from his sac he slammed it up against the wall, turning his hand just in time so that it was his knuckles, not hers, that hit the wall.
Her gasp was music to his ears, the fire in her eyes spilling a voracity of raw, earthy, sexual heat scraping through him with insatiable nails of concupiscence.
No fear, all sparking passion, Shea arched her hips towards him, against him, reaching for him with her free hand, unable to do more than grab onto his bulging bicep as he reached down to grab her behind the knee and yank it up, exposing her secrets to his shaft as he bent slightly, lodged the head of his shaft against her opening, started to push in-
“Condom.”
The word didn’t register as he shoved inside her, burying himself to the hilt, slamming her bottom against the wall with the force of the thrust.
“Oh Jesus…” She whimpered, came up on tiptoe. “Aaron - oh God!”
Another thrust again slamming her back ruthlessly against the wall, all that wet heat surrounding him, sucking him in deep, nothing between them. His hips jerked as he ground into her, his mouth seeking hers.
Her hand was against his chest, held him back as she panted. “Condom! Condom!”
The hot haze still held his mind in a greedy clutch, but his conscience prickled, made him still. Buried deep inside her, so damned, deliciously, bloody deep.
Her inner muscles squeezed him suddenly, dragging a groan from him, followed by an unaccustomed foul curse as her sheath spasming almost drove him out of his mind.
“Sorry, sorry.” Her breaths were ragged. A shudder racked through her as he started to move back, her fingers twisting into his shirt sleeve.
“Not your fault, baby,” he growled hoarsely. He was dangerously close to spilling himself inside her.
Really damned close.
With another curse he yanked free, Shea jerking against the wall with a whimper as he pulled out.
Half blind with burning, sexual heat, the need clawing at him as he left her moist sheath, Aaron reached down, somehow snagged his wallet from his back pocket, ripped it open and snatched out a wrapper. Dropping the wallet, he tore the foil open with his teeth, fisted the condom over his shaft and without further preamble stepped up to Shea still sprawled wantonly against the wall, locked their gazes as he slammed his hand on the wall above her head, grabbed her behind the knee and yanked it up to his thigh, the action pushing her shoulders back against the wall where she looked up at him out of simmering eyes, and with a hard, fast shove, he drove deep inside her again.
Latex between them now, but her heat still gripped him in a tight fist as he almost pounded into her.
There was nothing gentle in the love making. It was raw, carnal, the heat between them spreading in fiery tongues of eroticism as Aaron rutted her, shoving hard inside her, leaning over her, the muscles in his biceps bulging as he gritted his teeth, eyes half closed as blistering ardour swamped him almost agonisingly.
He’d never been this far gone, never felt such raw heat, never wanted to be so close to a woman that he wanted to brand her inside and out with his seed, his scent, sought to dominate her only enough so that she knew she was his, belonged to him, that she would never want another man. Would only want him.
Forever.
The thought, the feeling, emotion swamping him as he leaned down and sought her mouth, the satisfaction that filled him when she turned her face up eagerly to meet him, her lips already parted in supplication, welcoming him in as he kissed her hard, tongue sweeping through to brand his essence into her, filling her with his taste, taking her breath, swallowing her moans as he pumped vigorously, shoved hard, pinning her against the wall so that her body had no choice but to accept what he gave.
She loved it, taking him in deep, one hand against the wall beside her thigh for balance, the other dropping from his neck to his waist, going to his back to rake her nails lightly down his spine, sparking off little needles of desire to fan out from his spine down to his sac. Lower, her palm sliding down to grip his taut buttock, her soft palms moulding to the flexing of the muscle beneath as he thrust, urging him onward.
He was close now, the desire riding him as hard as he rode her, his thumb digging into the top of her thigh above her knee, his fingers beneath her knee gripping hard, clenching as roiling waves of ardour seared through him, curling up in hot waves from his sac, surging heatedly, unquenchingly, through his loins, splintering through his stomach, fiery spirals of burning rope snapping through his shaft, spilling outward, shooting forth as he drew almost all the way of Shea and slammed back in, did it again as the hot splash of seed poured forth, hips snapping strongly as he pumped fiercely, straining against her, stars bursting behind his eyelids as he threw his head back. Blinding, agonising passion exploding through him, his hips grinding against her softness, her moistness, her sheath spasming as she screamed his name, her nails digging into his buttock, yanking his hips into hers, holding him tight as the desire burst through them both, flung them out in a roiling tempest of stormy desire, the storm snapping them away.
In the final second before he was completely lost, Aaron slammed full body against Shea, pinning her between the wall and himself, pressed against her from hips to shoulders, curving protectively over her, making sure she was safe before he let himself go.
Lost to the tempest.
Lost to the storm.
Lost in sweet, sweet decadence and finally, complete sexual satiation.
*
When he finally came drifting down from the pleasant haze of satisfaction, he became aware of Shea snuggled against him, her arms around his waist and hands linked behind his back. His arm was bent with his forearm resting on the wall.
Pushing away slightly, he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “You all right, honey?”
“Mmmm.” She snuggled her face contentedly against his shoulder.
Realising he still had her knee in a tight grip against his hip, he carefully eased it down, sliding his hand up the length of her shapely thigh to rest gently on her hip.
He felt like he could never get enough of tracing those delectable curves.
“Aaron?”
“Yes?” Threading his hands through her hair which had been delightfully mussed at some point during their very heated, energetic encounter, Aaron massaged the base of her skull.
She groaned blissfully.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled the scent of her hair, enjoying the comfortable aftermath of the erotic storm.
“I can’t think with you doing that,” Shea admitted dreamily.
“Do you need to think?”
“Yeah.”
“I can stop.”
“Just keep going for a few more minutes.”
Tenderly amused, he obeyed.
True to her word, after several minutes she tipped her head back to look dreamily up at him.
God, she was a delectable sight, all dreamy-eyed, lips lush and red from his kisses. Combined with her dishevelled hair, she looked thoroughly debauched.
By him.
Best look ever.
“Aaron?”
He raised both eyebrows in silent query.
“This is going to sound very unromantic, but…”
“The condom? Sorry, honey. I have no excuse except that every sensible thought fled me at the most crucial moment. It’s never happened before.” He grinned crookedly. “Look what you did to me. Always-in-control-Aaron forgot to rubber-up.”
“That sounds like Luke talking. Does he know you take him off so perfectly?”
“He has no idea.”
She giggled. “You love messing with his head, don’t you
?”
“You have no idea.”
“He really thinks you’re freaky.”
Satisfaction oozed through him. “Yes. Yes, he does.”
“And you feed his imagination.”
Aaron grinned.
“Does he really not get that a lot of your so-called ‘freaky powers’ are simply close observation, keen intuition, and a general knowledge of how he acts and thinks?”
“Don’t start spreading rumours.” He smacked her bum lightly, lazily.
“Perish the thought. Though…” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Lifting his head, Aaron studied her. Now what was she cooking up in that pretty head? Ah, wait a minute… “Resorting to blackmail, Miss Winters?”
“Never, Mr Wells.” Her smile was all coyness. “As long as the offer of dinner still stands.”
“Blackmail.”
“Why, I’m just taking you up on your offer of earlier.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “I do declare, Mr Wells, I have worked up quite the appetite.”
His grin was full of sin.
With another giggle, she smacked his bicep.
Straightening, he pulled up his jocks and jeans without refastening them. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Sure.” Eyes still definitely a little dreamy, she smiled at him. “I’ll use the bathroom after you.”
Bending, he picked up her torn panties and pressed them into her hand, along with a lingering kiss on her lips. “You need new knickers.”
She blushed.
Laughing softly, he left the room.
~*~
The lighting was soft, the restaurant almost full, the music low. A red rose stood in a single vase in the middle of the table. The atmosphere was one of quiet comfort with a touch of luxury.
Aaron had known the owner and main chef, Justin Harold, since they were kids, and had supplied security for a couple of his fancier dinners when persons of prestige had dined there in large parties.
Sitting now in the corner table opposite Shea, Aaron did his usual glance around the room, taking in the patrons and staff before returning his attention to her.
Pretty as a picture, she had fixed her hair, reapplied lipstick and looked perfectly poised. Anyone seeing her wouldn’t think she’d been pinned against a wall in a wild sex session, but he had no trouble remembering it. Hell no, no trouble at all.
The Wells Brothers: Aaron Page 27