Troubles (Beekman Hills Book 1)

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Troubles (Beekman Hills Book 1) Page 8

by K. C. Enders


  Sadly, my plan for work taking my mind off Aidan and the past couple days, totally backfires. It’s really slow for a Saturday night and I have way too much time on my hands. He’s all I can think about and Jenna’s not even here to distract me. Why the hell did I need to come in tonight? My mind is spinning. I really like him. I have fun every time we’re together and he’s so sweet to me—opening doors and always making sure I’m okay—I should try to trust him. Give him a real chance. Maybe he won’t let me down.

  When the night is finally over, I shoot Gracyn a grin. “Nope, not drinking tonight. I’m going home, crawling into bed, and sleeping yesterday off.”

  “Yeah, I kinda figured,” she chuckles. “So, you haven’t told me anything about the past two days with Aidan. I mean, obviously you got shitty yesterday, but what’s going on with you guys?”

  We grab our bags and walk out the back door.

  She’s pushing for info. She’s been really off since spring break and I haven't wanted to bug her. “I don’t know. I’m scared.” I hate admitting that, but my fear is honest.

  “Lis, you have to try eventually. You know that, right?”

  Of course, I know that. It’s all I’ve thought about tonight. “I do. It’s just…” God, this is hard. “…I can’t do it again. My heart can’t handle the idea of breaking again so soon.” I try to hold my tears back, but they just have to break free. Swiping at my cheeks, I try to pull myself together. Getting emotional goes hand in hand with being tired and I’m so there.

  Gracyn hands me a tissue along with the start of an epic pep talk. “Lissy, he’s been nothing but kind and considerate. You need to give the boy a chance. He fought Francie, has taken you out, respects your commitment to school and took care of your drunk ass without taking advantage of you—because let me tell you—he so could have taken whatever he wanted last night. You asked him to, multiple times. But he tucked you into bed, made sure you took something for your headache and that you had water. You don’t want to compare, and I get that, but Rob wouldn’t have done any of that, even on his best day. Aidan’s different.” She’s totally right. “Tell me about today. What did you guys do?”

  Sighing, I stare out the window. “He took me to the mansion for a picnic. Packed the most amazing food, and…”

  “What?”

  “I swear he watched me sleep for a couple hours—not in a creepy way, but just really sweet. And then we went for a walk to the reflecting pool.”

  “Dude. That’s your favorite place. Did he know?”

  “I don’t know. I think I was babbling about it last night at McBride’s.” I can’t believe I’m spilling this. “And he brought his camera. He…he took pictures of me.” I drop that on her as I get out of the car and pray she leaves it alone.

  “He what?”

  “He took some pictures of me in the garden. He’s a photographer, so, you know. It’s no big deal, just…” I shrug as I open our door. And my phone pings. “It was nothing. You can have the bathroom first, just hurry. I need to be done with today.”

  Gracyn does her thing and is out the door in record time. She seems like she’s getting back to her normal self—her before-spring-break self. I don’t know what changed with her today. I’m just relieved to hear the lock click and finally be alone.

  I take the longest, hottest shower I can stand. I scrub my hair, condition it twice, shave my legs and let the lavender scent calm and soothe me. The thick lotion I slather on after toweling off feels like heaven. Pulling on my shorts and tank, I hear my phone ping. Again. I totally forgot that I got a text earlier. And, evidently a couple more while I was in the shower.

  A: I’ve got the proof sheet done. Want me to come by?

  A: You still there?

  A: The place looks dead. Did you close early?

  A: Christ. Could you check your phone?

  The dots start up again. He’s getting a little cranky; I’m not the only one who needs a good night sleep.

  L: Give me a sec. I just got out of the shower.

  That was stupid. Why did I text him that?

  A: Are you needing help?

  L: Thanks for the offer. I’m good.

  My phone starts vibrating as soon as I hit send. Shit. “Hello…”

  “Well?” The smoky timber of his voice sends a shiver down my spine.

  “Well, what?” My teeth dig into the side of my lower lip as I try to hide my physical response to just his words.

  “Are you wanting me to come by or are you free tomorrow mornin’? I’ve the dark room at ten o’clock for a couple hours.” I can hear bar noises muffled in the background.

  “Um, I’m free tomorrow, all day. You sound like you’re busy anyway. I’ll just meet you there.” I try to stifle my yawn, but am not at all successful.

  “Yeah, I came to the bar to grab a bite to eat and ended up working for Jimmy. You might’ve given him more of a run for his money than he let on. He’s lookin’ a bit peaked and asked me to stay for him.” His chuckle is low and deep, rumbling straight through me. He definitely affects me more than I am ready to admit. “You sound like you’re ready for sleep yourself? I’ll text the address and see you in the morning, yeah?”

  I yawn again. “Uh-huh. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Sleep well, love.”

  It’s been ages since the last time I was in this part of town. I pass the building three times before I text Aidan that I’m here. A steel door creaks open down the alley and Aidan steps out. The sun is behind him with rays streaming down around him, highlighting his silhouette. He is breathtaking.

  I slide through between his body and the doorframe, brushing up against him slightly. “’Scuse me.”

  The whole building stinks like chemicals—rotten eggs. It does nothing to enhance the 1970s plastic and linoleum decor. I wrinkle up my nose taking in the room. “This is…nice… How’d you find this place?”

  Aidan huffs out an amused chuckle and reaches for my hand. “I asked at the college—I hoped they would let me use theirs, but this’ll do. Not many people have a need for the labs now. But I learned the old ways when I was in school.”

  I raise my eyebrow at him—he’s not that much older than me, right?

  “Come with me, I’ll show you the ‘magic.’”

  It’s kind of creepy moving through the empty building, past offices, and storage rooms. We are very much alone in here. Aidan soothes me with his warm hand—stroking my fingers with his thumb and squeezing me a little as we enter the darkroom. I check my watch. “What time did you get here?” The red light is on and there are shallow trays lined up on the work surface. It’s a crazy, organized chaos.

  Aidan quietly closes the door behind us and leads me over to a table with a folder and a small box. “Just before you. I mixed up some chemicals and got things ready.” He puts one hand on my shoulder and leans into me a little grabbing the box. “Do you want to look and see what we’ve got?”

  The room feels almost cold after coming in from the glaring sun and I’m suddenly very aware of his warmth at my back. I shiver when he straightens, opening the box.

  “It’s cool in here. Are you okay?” His warm breath on my ear sends another shiver through me.

  “Um…yeah. I’m good. Let me see.” I grab at the proof sheet, again feeling Aidan lean into me. He slides the sheet out of my reach and holds it away from me.

  “You’re eager, then.” He smirks. Pressing his left hand into my lower back, he slips around to my side. He holds his hand there for a beat longer than he needs to, but not nearly long enough. Something changes, and he shifts his eyes from mine. Pulling back from me, he mumbles, “Well, erm… Right. Let’s just get this set.” He starts moving around, putting distance between us. Slipping the proofs under some weird magnifying thing—adjusting knobs, and buttons, and lights.

  Is he nervous? This man has been touching me in some small way since I got here and now he’s stepping away, keeping clear of me. He was all flirty on the phone last nigh
t. He’s…I don’t know. Trying to give me space?

  “Can I see now?” We’ve killed half an hour with this little dance. It’s obvious Aidan is stuck in his head. Maybe he’s nervous? Scared to show me the images.

  He blows out a big breath pursing his lips, and steps back. “Erm—you can. Just look through at the contact sheet and, erm…let me know when you’re ready for the next one. We’ll just…”

  I’m a little freaked by this viewing thing he’s been messing with. It’s intimidating, but the image that greets me is nothing short of amazing. “Wow. That’s…” I’m completely speechless.

  “They get better,” Aidan whispers as he reaches over and adjusts the sheet so the next frame comes into view, his confidence coming back.

  After a few awkward minutes of sliding the frames through slowly and clumsily, we start to fall into a rhythm, relaxing into each other. Aidan gets a little lost in his craft and forgets whatever it was that made him put distance between us earlier.

  Each frame is better than the next. His artistic eye is seriously well developed. The light created a halo effect as it streamed through the arbor. Illuminating the subject’s hair and the sheet that’s wrapped and draped around her form. He’s clearly decided which ones he wants to print. I want to see them all—it doesn’t register that it’s me in the pictures. It never even crosses my mind.

  I move back a bit, just watching and listening. I could do this for hours, it’s beautiful. I know I asked for the magic of making the prints, but I kind of get lost myself. It’s dark and quiet. And as gorgeous as the shots are that we’ve looked at, Aidan in the flesh is a site worth appreciating. Maybe he would let me take some pictures of him.

  I watch him fall into a kind of artistic abyss. He’s lost in the poetry of his movements, and the lilting melody of his voice washes over me as he explains what he’s doing. I’m absolutely captivated by him. I’m lost in him, lost to him.

  Chapter 15

  Aidan

  She’s not paying attention to what I’m doing anymore. I can feel her gaze on me. I’m ready to dazzle her. Christ. Who thinks shite like that? It’s like I was fluffing my feathers trying to impress her.

  I don’t know what the fuck made me so jittery earlier. I loved holding her hand, touching her when she first got here. When I pressed my body up against hers and her arse pressed back into me—her arse in that little skirt she’s wearing—Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I swear, I heard the fucking angels sing. Yeah. That’s what did it. I can’t be thinking of that here. Not the place for it. And space—I need to remember to give her some space.

  I print the three photos we picked. No filters, no flair. Just the simplest process. She looks like I just presented her with the most amazing prize. Yeah—just fucking wait until she sees what I can do. I start the process over with the first photo. This one is my absolute favorite. I focus her image, fade, and blur around her. Highlight and exaggerate the beams of light streaming through the arbor. They point to her like a beacon, drawing your eye to her.

  She’s moving closer, intrigued. The magic—the fucking magic is working. I put the print through the final wash, giving her just a hint of what will be a beautiful piece hanging in my loft. I’ll be spending a lot of time staring at this one. I hang it to dry, turned so she can’t see the finished product. I want that moment to be one I can savor and I need to print a few others.

  I take a deep breath as she approaches me, breathing in her sweet scent.

  “Can you show me what you did with that? How…how did you blur the outside? How did you get it all focused like that?”

  I feel her body pressed against me again. Christ. Is she moving fucking closer to me? I start the process for the next photo.

  She’s close.

  Getting closer.

  Asking me questions. I’ve got her attention again. And of course, I want to fucking take advantage of it.

  The processing, I can do in my sleep. I go to autopilot and just get the prints done, murmuring the explanation as I go. She’s excited, captivated, watching this happen. I hang this print next to the first to dry, turning, and she’s right there. Right fucking there. “I’ll be needin’ to wash my hands. The chemicals, they’re bad.” I brush against her as I pass and wash up quickly. She’s looking at the first print—staring at it. The wonder in her eyes stirs something deep inside me.

  She makes this breathy sound as she moves from one photo to the next. Fuck’s sake, I can feel that sigh. I feel it deep within me tightening every single muscle. It’s like I’ve lost control over my hands. They’re in her hair before it registers what I’m doing. Her gaze lifts up to meet mine.

  The light is low and she is stunning.

  Time stands still as I move a hair’s breadth closer to her. She blinks in slow motion, like we’re muddling through the mire.

  I feel her breath on my lips. Feel it feather across me. I lean in that last little bit until our lips brush and that spark is too much to resist. I don’t want to stop.

  I grasp the hair at the nape of her neck and drag her closer to me. My tongue sweeps out along her soft lips, back and forth until she opens for me, and I taste her.

  God, she tastes sweeter than she did yesterday. Sweeter than I have words for.

  Stepping in, I guide her, direct her, move her against the wall. This is a bad idea. So bad. This is not the time or place. Shifting to step away, I feel her move with me. She’s almost dancing with me, giving in to me. I press her back into the wall, fingers twined through her hair as I run my other hand down her cheek, caressing her neck, stopping on the swell of her breast. Holding her there. Pressed between my body and the wall.

  My head is telling me to stop.

  My heart? My heart wants to hear nothing of it.

  She slides her hands down my arms, and behind my back, grazing the waistband of my trousers—my skin tingling from the heat of her touch. Dragging my nose along her jawline, I plant small open mouth kisses from that spot by her ear—that spot—down her neck to where it meets her shoulder. I could get lost in the line of her collarbone. That delicate bone has to be one of the sexiest spots on a woman.

  I run my hand around her waist skimming up under the bottom edge of her t-shirt. She gasps a sweet breath when I brush my fingers up the soft skin at her side. Spreading out my hand, my fingers wrap around her back and my thumb caresses the underside of her tit. I’m trying—but when she runs her hands up under my shirt and digs her fingers into my back, I lose what little grasp I have on my control. I make short work of her bra clasp and palm her left breast while I tug at her shirt to get that shite out of my way. Something clatters as it lands behind me—I couldn’t care less what I just fucking spilled. I wrap my lips around her nipple and pull it between my teeth.

  Her gasps and moans are music to my fucking ears. I need her lips, I need to taste her, I need to own every one of those sounds. Grabbing her arse, I lift her up, her legs wrapping around my hips. She grips me tightly as I carry her over to the work surface—clearing the solution trays to the floor, not giving a shit what’s there. I don’t think my cock can get any harder as she rakes her fingers through my hair, pulling on it as I grind into her. I lean in setting her down, a hand to her chest I push her to lie back. The low light casts shadows across her, accentuating her curves—her peaks and valleys. As much as I appreciate the art of the moment, I need to touch every inch of her.

  “Aidan…” It comes out as a breathy moan. She tugs at my shirt as I reach behind me and drag it off—adding it to the pile of cast-off clothing behind me. She has me fucking captivated. The feel of her nails scraping across my shoulders and down my back has me shaking. “Please…”

  I’ll do anything for her. “Please what, love? What do you need?”

  She practically purrs as I run my hands down her body, skimming over her curves to the sides of that flirty little skirt. This fucking thing has been driving me insane. I slide my hand down her knickers, teasing her as much as myself—light skimming to
uches. I want to draw this out. I want to explore every inch of her, worship her, make her mine. I run my thumb up and down her core feeling how her body reacts to my touch, caressing her and circling her clit through the fabric. My fingers slip under the fabric of her knickers. Christ, she’s wet.

  Sliding my thumb up to circle her bundle of nerves increasing pressure as her breathing picks up and she starts panting out my name.

  “Aidan…God, Aidan…” One finger circles her, and dips in—two fingers. “…Aidan…” She is stunning like this. My left hand firmly holding her in place, my right pumping, stroking, driving her higher…closer. “…Aidan…” It’s fucking amazing hearing my name on her breath. She bucks her hips with the first pass of my tongue. “…Aidan…” she keens with the second pass. And when I wrap my lips around her clit sucking hard, her back arches and she fucking comes apart—pulsing around my fingers, heels digging into my back, my other hand clutched to her chest.

  She. Fucking. Comes. Undone.

  I kiss along her inner thighs as she calms, sliding my fingers from her, and putting her knickers right. Her gaze meets mine as I stand and suck my fingers into my mouth, tasting her, licking them clean.

  Chapter 16

  Lis

  Oh. My. God.

  He drags his fingers from his mouth and I have to look away. No one has ever…done that to me before.

  “Done what—which part?”

  I snap my eyes back to his. They’re dark and hooded.

  “I didn’t think I said that out loud. Sorry.” I push myself up to sitting and smooth my skirt back down over my thighs. Aidan steps in. His erection straining against his zipper.

 

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