by L. J. Wilson
“No. It’s more about me thinking half of this should be about you. I made you wait in ways you never imagined.”
His brow knotted. “Ruby, with any other girl, I wouldn’t have cared. I might have called her a cock tease. I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I thought about other girls.”
It was such an honest-Aaron remark. “So all this waiting, it’s been just fine with you?”
“You know the answer to that. But what you might not realize is that if you wanted this to play out like we were living in the last century that would be fine too.” Aaron leaned and Ruby’s gaze traveled the slope of rigid arm muscle. Discarded silky white lingerie hooked around his fingers. “If you had told me it needed to be a white dress… and a church… and a priest before we got to here, I’d be good with that.”
Oh my, take that, Tandy…
Ruby smiled at the potential promise. Aaron let go of the lingerie. His hands burrowed through her dark hair, her bare body pressing into his. He laid them down on the blanket where instinct and tradition took over. The intimate nature of things unfolded, Ruby answering every movement with a knowledge she did not know she possessed. Her fingers dug into his strong back. Her breath got away as he skillfully repeated the moment in his car, and this time Ruby’s hand cupped hard over his, Aaron whispering, “You are so fucking hot, Ruby… so ready for this…”
Everything plunged into a rolling wave of hot light, Ruby gasping as the feeling seemed to spill over to Aaron. His cock pulsed harder against her. Conversely, his hand eased between her legs. She could feel a pounding in his chest that matched hers. His breaths were intense, different than the ones that went with the five-mile runs that started Aaron’s days. And while they were clearly at the precipice, and sex could very well happen this way—the way it did in lovely romances and sweet-ending movies—Ruby felt Aaron had earned more. That and maybe she wanted a taste of the bad boy she’d heard tell of. “I want to know something,” she whispered. “And I want the truth.”
“Always,” he said.
“Does this, um… position, meet your wildest expectations?” Ruby’s hand was around the aching length of him now, feeling a little sticky wetness on her fingers.
Aaron pushed into the pressure she provided. He stared willfully into her eyes and swallowed hard. He looked a little dizzy. “Position? I don’t… Yeah, this will work fine.”
“Work, yes. Sounds like the diagram model the Church passes out to first-timers ten minutes before the honeymoon… sure. But is this way… is it what you want?”
His fingers, tangling in a whorl of hair, found just the right spot again.
Ruby tensed. She forced herself to focus, concentrate, to keep from spiraling to a place to which he knew the way. “You did all this for me,” she said, her gaze leaving Aaron’s to note the thoughtful setting. “I want to do something for you. I want this to be something you’ll remember. So confess. Tell me how this Aaron Clairmont first-timer fantasy goes.”
He half smiled, which really was his whole smile and kissed her. “You mean like did I purposely leave my blindfold and handcuffs at home?”
She shrugged.
“Not my style.”
“I didn’t think so. But surely you’ve envisioned something more than what maybe I’d mapped out.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding. “I get it. Something between the Church-approved version and my sex-crazed rep.”
She nodded back.
“No,” he said. “Us, right here…” But Aaron stopped talking because he knew that Ruby knew he was lying. His fingers glided over her bare skin, more aggressively over a taut nipple.
“I want to know. I want the piece of Aaron that you’ve been keeping from me.”
“That piece, huh?”
She nodded again.
“Are you sure?” His abruptness gave the flutter a jolt.
The jolt radiated through her body as he slid a finger inside her. Ruby’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip, enticed by the preview. “I’m sure. I trust you, Aaron… completely. So,” she said, her mouth moving to his earlobe, nipping at it, “how does it go? I don’t know what it is, but I bet something more than a lame missionary position has kept you up nights.”
“Kept me up nights?” His arms slid beneath her, cocooning her safely before coming clean. His breath was warm in her ear. “Baby, you’ve no idea. More like got me through. Know that you make for one hot fantasy. But I’m still not sure…”
“Be sure,” she said, inviting Aaron Clairmont’s imagination into their new personal space. “Take a chance. I took a while to get here, but now that I am…” And Ruby knew this was true. Months ago, sex wouldn’t have been this freeing and trust-filled.
He hesitated, still using the caution that had ruled their world. Ruby put an end to that, applying a tad more pressure. She allowed instinct and Tandy notes to steer, pushing against Aaron’s body until she looked down over him. She kissed him, starting with the divot on his chin and progressing to his broad chest. She kept moving, onto his stomach, finding faint scents of aftershave fading as she went. The rawer, saltier taste of skin dominated, the smell of simple soap—a splash of wicked desire. But when she got to the trail of hair, the one that usually disappeared into his jeans, Aaron grabbed her by the shoulders. “Good guess. But that’s more fantasy B. Not meant for this exact moment. I guess we’re on the same page there.”
“Why not you?” Ruby said, popping back up.
He looked confused, like maybe the answer wasn’t so obvious. Then he recovered. “For the same reasons you passed.”
“So then give me an instruction,” she said, a shiver of curiosity rushing through her. “Tell me what you want.”
“An instruction. Really?” It wasn’t like Ruby to take instruction. “Okay… Before, you were on your knees, facing me.”
“Right,” she said, scrambling back to that position. He rose to meet her, his cock pulsing against her body. At the same time, Ruby felt herself mirroring the desire he physically displayed. But hers was all internal, a hollow of longing. His hands reached around, cupping her ass. He’d done that in the car too, the first time there wasn’t fabric between Aaron and what he wanted.
“In any good fantasy—and there were plenty—I’d get out of bed and climb into a fucking ice-cold shower, where I ended up… Well, never mind, that’s just embarrassing.”
“Okay, but now I’m here… play it out. No stopping, no shower, no more fantasy.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed; his head shook a bit as if someone had stolen his reserved Ruby. “You continue to amaze me, Ruby Vasquez. Know that.”
She smiled.
He didn’t. “But if you’re sure you want this…” He swallowed again though it seemed as if she should be the one displaying nerves. “Turn around,” he said, his deep voice commanding.
She did.
Aaron’s hands, a stiff cock, and his fantasy overtook everything. Another shiver rushed Ruby, but it was all expectation and satisfaction. She’d surprised him with more than what he’d politely anticipated.
While she got the gist of where this was going, she loved it when Aaron continued on, his body dominating hers until she felt her knees sink farther into the soft sand. She sensed Aaron’s restraint as he made a steady progression. At first, his hands made the most impact, wrapped around her lower back, his mouth moving over the bump of her spine. She felt him retreat slightly before kisses made contact with places Ruby had not considered, his teeth nipping invitingly into the flesh on a different cheek. Then things started to change. Aaron was closer again, completely in control. His body moved over Ruby’s until her position had become—submissive. His hands were no longer the most penetrating part, and Ruby felt only a moment of discomfort. His voice was right there, demanding to know, as he entered her, if it was okay. She couldn’t find words, the feeling explosive and poignant.
“Yes,” she managed in a husky whisper. “God, yes…”
And the piece of Aaron she�
��d demanded showed up on cue. The rhythm grew more forceful, the moment electric. “Ruby,” he said, the thrusting picking up pace. “You’re… It’s beyond any fantasy. This is…” But he didn’t finish the sentence. A sense of touch reassured Ruby. His hands caressed her body, contrasting the forcefulness with which he took her. It went on like this—like music that built and crescendoed—Aaron reaching around to touch that intimate spot of flesh. Ruby’s hand pressed hard over his. Natural sounds rose from that span of private beach, a breathless Aaron coming first, Ruby quickly following.
Sometime later, stars showed up and the earth went back to its regular rotation. As they lay on the blankets, Aaron’s hand trailed along Ruby’s collarbone and the delicate angle of her jaw. He kissed her and Ruby wanted to say, “To hell with white dresses and marriage.”
It was Aaron who seemed to recover reality, suggesting something else. “Damn, Ruby. Tell me we haven’t earned happiness in permanent ink?”
So months later, it was something more than the world spinning off its axis or turning inside out. It was the opposite of orgasmic. It was utter devastation, the truth hitting Ruby like a hellish branding iron. This would be her forever tattoo, her last vivid image of Aaron as she watched his body slam, face first, into the hood of his beloved Dodge Challenger. It took four officers from the Nickel Springs police force to get him into that position. Damn, it had only taken some smooth courting for Aaron to get Ruby into the position he’d wanted. Watching, a grimace that sounded like a dying animal erupted from her throat. You could hear the dent being made as they repeatedly smashed Aaron’s hand into the hood.
Ruby stepped forward, but Dante held her back. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real. And yet whirling lights, big-lunged orders about not moving, an officer aggressively kicking Aaron’s legs apart as they searched for other weapons assured her that it was. Reporters were already on the scene, recording the heinous reality. From the trunk of Aaron’s car, an officer held up two tightly packaged, clear-plastic bags of white powder. They kept smashing his hand hard, and Ruby thought she heard the bones crumble. She wondered if it hurt as much as everything crumbling inside her. Finally, a gun dislodged, skidding forward. It bounced across the car hood and onto the lawn. It was the gun Aaron Clairmont had brought there. The gun he’d fired—mercifully missing—determined to carry out the hit on Dante Vasquez.
Present Day
The car pulled away from the prison gates. Aaron heaved a sigh. He’d made it. He’d survived seven years, sixty-two days and four hours in that hole. Nothing could be worse. Nothing could feel better. Alec’s big-brother hand came across the seat, play-punching Aaron in the arm. He forced himself not to react.
“You’re quiet for a guy who just got his life back.”
Aaron’s eyes locked on the side-view mirror. Razor wire and despair slipped into the distance. “It just doesn’t feel like a celebration. You know?”
“I know you paid a debt, man. I know it was rough, bro… but it’s over.” Alec sped up, moving into the passing lane. “The drugs. The dealing… the… well, everything, it was a mistake. It’s over.”
Was it? Aaron doubted his brother’s perspective. They drove toward Nickel Springs. The scenery hadn’t changed from the ride into Biddeford Correctional Facility—only Aaron’s point of view. Last time he was shackled, seated in a Department of Corrections van. A guy who said his name was “Lastic” pressed against Aaron’s leg, a smile sneaking into the fucker’s life sentence. “Lastic… short for elastic… You’ll see why…” Aaron shifted in the seat of Alec’s SUV, feeling no less uncomfortable.
And just like the ride into prison, Aaron couldn’t keep the future from coming. “Listen, Alec, I hope I’m wrong. But unless Honor’s done a one-eighty in the past seven years, I thought… Well, I did think she might go for some kind of crazy homecoming.” He glanced at his brother, and Aaron’s eyes closed. “She’s rolling out a red carpet, isn’t she?”
Alec’s grip tightened around the wheel.
“How bad?”
There was no verbal response.
“What? Did she invite all of Nickel Springs to welcome home the wayward Clairmont brother?”
“No. Not that bad. More like half.”
“Are you—shit. Do not tell me Jake showed up for it.”
“That part I can confirm. Jake’s on location, shooting a movie in South America. Honor said he couldn’t make it, but he sends his best.”
“Thank God for that much. It’s not that I don’t want to see him…”
Alec nodded. “I get it.”
Their famous younger brother was still a Clairmont, but most of his life took place on the big screen. He’d been there for Aaron’s sentencing and used a chunk of his first million to pay for a top-notch legal team. Aaron was grateful for that, even if Jake had ridden off into the sunset. Who could blame him? Who needed a brother with a felony record screwing up their celebrity bio? Despite the legal aid, Aaron had refused a trial. It would be messy—worse, they could call witnesses. After that he refused to plea bargain. Again, there’d be too many questions. He’d shocked everyone by pleading guilty. Aaron remembered holding his breath as the sentence was read: twenty-five years. The maximum.
He’d shown zero emotion. It was done, and Aaron allowed himself to be led away in shackles. The judge handed down a sentence based on facts. Aaron had attempted to kill Nickel Spring’s mayor—his girlfriend’s father, aggravating the unsavoriness of his crime. Add to that Aaron’s role in a highly profitable and vastly intricate drug-running operation. It had been plotted directly through their quaint town. Slam. Dunk. But in the past few weeks, Aaron’s fate had changed, overcrowding and good behavior turning twenty-five years into a stunningly reduced sentence and early parole.
“As for the rest of it,” Alec said, “Honor’s plans… You’re on the money.”
Aaron thrust his head back. “She never could think of prison as anything more than an alternative lifestyle.”
“Look, Honor’s kept a vigil since they carted you off. She’s not about to let your newfound freedom go uncelebrated.”
“I didn’t graduate from Yale, Alec. I did the minimum of a quarter-century sentence for attempted murder, deep drug trafficking. It’s not a reason to hire a DJ or bake a cake.”
“At least she didn’t have to put a file in it.” Alec’s hand gestured toward him again. Aaron flinched and forced a defensive swing in check. “And you did earn a college degree while you were on the inside. That’s something to be proud of. Look how long it took me to—”
“Don’t compare. A degree in business is nothing next to your personnel jacket. That and I doubt the world—at least greater Nickel Springs—will be beating a path to the door to hire me. Anyway, Navy Seals are in a league of their own,” he said, referring to Alec’s prestigious past.
These words seemed to cause Alec’s mood to turn darker than Aaron’s, and he flipped on the radio. “Just do the best you can. Honor’s been planning this for weeks.”
“Sure. It’ll be like ripping off a Band-Aid—everyone can gawk at once at the ugly scar. Well, almost everyone…” Aaron’s fingertips ran over the real scars that mapped his hand, the pins and screws that held it together. He looked up. A Welcome to Nickel Springs sign blew past. At least one thing was right where he’d left it.
Alec turned down the radio. “So tell me what you missed most? What are you looking forward to again?”
He went with easy answers. “A steak… a private shower… grass under my bare feet… mail that hasn’t been opened. Air that doesn’t stink of sweat and piss and other cons. Lights that turn off when I want.”
“Hey, Aar, aren’t you skipping over the obvious? Isn’t there something missing from that rundown?”
“Yeah, sure. There’s that.” Aaron said it, but it was half-hearted. What did it matter? When Aaron learned about his early release, there was only a dull ache in his gut. Inside prison or out, Ruby wouldn’t be in either p
lace. Thankfully, Alec didn’t go after the banter that he would have years ago. Aaron couldn’t play along. Before Ruby, the two brothers had shared plenty of talk about girls, eventually women. But Alec seemed to get that Aaron’s mind wasn’t on a quick fuck. He wished he could go back, play those games, and live that rogue mindset. But it wasn’t Aaron any more, not since Ruby had come and gone from his life.
He continued to stare out the window. At least prison had given him somewhere to be, forced his thoughts elsewhere. Now the past flooded back—all of it. Aaron remembered the physical moments, the way Ruby’s body felt under his touch, a spitfire sexy side that he’d never imagined. But he also recalled the other end of the spectrum, the night of his arrest and the devastated look on her face. Nickel Springs’ police had shoved him into a cruiser, Aaron mouthing the words, “I’m sorry…” She hated him. Hell, how could he blame her? It was exactly what she saw—Aaron with the Glock 17, firing a shot meant to kill her father.
Ruby… Aaron swallowed hard, unsure if he’d said her name out loud. A glance at Alec confirmed that the thought was inner. Good. No one had said Ruby’s name since the sentencing. While she never made a statement in court—Aaron adamant that his legal team not approach her—she’d showed up at his sentencing.
It was the only time his hands shook. He knew this because shaking hands were noticeable when cuffed. In the courtroom, Aaron snatched a fast glance. Still, it was seared into his brain—Ruby’s dark eyes, red-rimmed, her nose running. She’d stood with Dante, her arm looped through his. She looked ill… crushed. Still, she managed to hold her chin high. In the wake of his betrayal, their presence was a show of solidarity.
He understood what they saw. Clearly, Aaron had used her. Innocent Ruby was the fast track to the mayor’s inner circle and privileged information. Hell, Dante had even given him a part-time gig at city hall. Aaron had access to everything: the mayor’s office and house, confidential intel, and suspected drug-trafficking information. All of it was crucial to making Nickel Springs the middleman stop for filtering drugs and money into and out of the city. Not long after his sentencing, Aaron heard that Dante Vasquez and Ruby left Nickel Springs. And this, Aaron suspected, was for the best.