Once he had her loaded into the passenger seat and buckled in, he joined her inside the car, though he had to shove her seat back as far as it would go and change every mirror setting.
“You drive stick?”
“Is that an invitation?” She ruined the sultry question with a hiccup, but Aidan’s body didn’t seem to care.
“Please tell me you remember where you live?” he asked gruffly, trying to resurrect the polite distance he’d managed for most of the night.
She guided him to her fancy building, and the key fob gained them entry to the underground garage. He cut the engine, and silence descended upon them. He looked over to find her eyes closed, her long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, her mouth curved provocatively at the corner, like she was in the middle of a very good dream.
Self-preservation had him unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the Audi. He slammed the driver’s door with more force than necessary, with every intention of waking her up, because he didn’t trust himself to touch her right now, not even to shake her awake.
He circled the back of the car and pulled open the passenger-side door.
“Okay. Let’s get you upstairs.”
“I’m too tired. I’ll just sleep here,” she countered, snuggling into the black leather seat.
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I left you sleeping in your car?” he asked sardonically. With an aggrieved frown, she shoved her hand toward him, and against his better judgment, he accepted it.
“You’ve spent your whole life telling me you’re not a gentleman at all,” she countered when she was finally standing in front of him. She was tall, he realized, and her high heels made her even more so.
He’d barely have to dip his head to kiss her right now, to bring their mouths into perfect alignment. He leaned forward.
“Aidan?” His name sounded breathy on her lips, and lust coiled deep in his belly.
“Yeah?”
“I think I forgot my purse.”
He exhaled at the near miss as she spun away from him.
Aidan didn’t mean to stare at that round, pert ass as she dived back into the car, bracing a knee on the seat so she could retrieve her clutch. His mouth went dry. No panty lines.
“Got it!” Her voice was triumphant as she backed out of the Audi, tugging her dress down her shapely thighs as she fixed him with a victorious smile. “Man. We should have shared some appetizers at the bar. I’m starving,” she announced, pushing past him. Her unsteady footsteps echoed in the concrete cavern as she headed toward the elevator.
He swallowed as he shut the door and locked her car with the press of a button, taking a moment to readjust himself before he followed along in her wake.
Nope. He was definitely not a gentleman.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THEY MANAGED THE trip to the elevator pretty seamlessly, though in her inebriated state, Kaylee kept misjudging how much space she was taking up. Every time she brushed against him, which was often, his libido and his brain went to war. Any relief he felt when they finally stepped onto her floor was ruined by his inability to concentrate on anything but the sway of her hips as he followed her to her place. She leaned heavily on the wall as he unlocked the door.
He stepped back. “After you.”
With some effort, she disassociated herself from the wall, haphazardly shedding her shoes and his jacket as she meandered into the space.
Aidan followed her in. It was a nice place. Of course. Ritzy, subdued furniture that bespoke old money. Tidy, elegant, no hint as to what lay beneath the surface.
So very much like its owner.
Aidan stepped into the high-end kitchen. “Where are the glasses?”
His question stalled Kaylee’s forward progress, and she wandered back to join him, pointing at the cupboard to his right. He grabbed the tallest one he could find and shoved it under the tap before holding it out to her. “Drink this.”
“I’m not thirsty.”
“Drink it anyway,” he suggested, doing his best to ignore the danger of her proximity. All this time, she’d been stuck in his memory as a winsome teen who used to beg him for stories when she worked up the nerve to speak to him. So much time had passed between then and now. So many things had changed.
Kaylee took the glass, placating him with a half-hearted swallow before she set it beside the sink.
She’d changed, too. But he’d do well not to notice that.
“You’ll thank me tomorrow.”
Something dangerous lit in her eyes. His body braced for the impact, all his muscles drawing tight.
“I’d rather thank you tonight.”
Aidan gave a silent curse. Damned if he didn’t want to let her.
Had since she’d turned around in the bar, looking fresh and beautiful and so goddamned sexy that he couldn’t think straight. The buzz between them was unlike anything Aidan had ever experienced, as hazardous as a downed power line.
“Want to know a secret?”
He wanted to know all her secrets. What made her moan. What turned her on.
Goddamn it. He’d been so horny since he’d broken his unintentional sexual fast and lapsed into hedonism with that burlesque dancer. But he was not going to slake his reignited libido with Kaylee Whitfield.
“I’ve always had a crush on you.”
The sweetness of her confession gave him a moment to get ahold of himself, subdue his raging hormones. “That’s not a secret, KJ.”
But the feeling had never been mutual.
At least not until tonight.
“That’s not what you’re supposed to say!” Her affronted frown was cute as hell.
He relaxed a little as they fell into old roles, him cajoling, her exasperated. “What was I supposed to say?”
“Something gallant. Or something sweet. Basically, anything but that.”
“Duly noted. Now, let’s get you to bed.” He instantly regretted his choice of words as something dark and sexy supercharged the air between them, turning his innocent words into a lascivious proposition.
“You’re a fast learner. That was better already.”
She stepped closer, dragged her fingers down his chest. He caught her wrist, stilling her hand. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and he could feel her pulse kick up.
That thrum between them filled his head.
“Do you want me?” she asked.
His eyebrows snapped together. This was definitely not the Kaylee he remembered. “What?”
This time when she lowered her gaze, she didn’t stop until she got to his zipper. “Do I make you hard?”
His body responded against his will, and she smiled the kind of smile that could drop a guy to his knees. “Because I want you.”
“You’re drunk.” He tried to shut her down. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“You wanna bet on that?” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and gave him a look that was all liquid sex and mysterious woman. “I know exactly what I’m asking for.”
Something about the way she said it made him believe her. Made him want to give it to her, too.
“And you know what else I bet? I bet you fuck like a stallion.”
“Jesus, Kaylee.” He dropped her hand, took a step back. She was more potent than he’d thought. More dangerous than he’d given her credit for.
“What? I can say fuck if I want to. I’m an adult woman.”
“You’re not acting like it.” It was a feeble defense, but Aidan committed, injecting his tone with acid as he tried to get his brain out of his pants and back where it belonged.
She wasn’t embarrassed as much as put out, if her pout was any indication. “You sound like my mother.”
That startled a laugh from him. Par for the course tonight, he figured. Past and present had collided in the
most disorienting way. He pulled a hand over his face, down his beard. “Christ, I really do.”
Her answering smile was wobbly. He was objectively struck in that moment by how beautiful she was. The promise had been there in her teens, but the result was like a kick to the chest.
“How is Sylvia these days?”
“The Dragon Lady still rules with an iron fist. Wait.” She shook her head, and the force made her sway. She braced a steadying hand on the counter. “Why are we talking about my mother right now? You’re not getting out of this that easily.”
Beautiful and stubborn as fuck.
He was trying to avenge his father, to tear down the family that had ruined his. She was the enemy, he reminded himself. Max’s baby sister. He wasn’t supposed to want her. And he sure as shit wasn’t supposed to like her.
She zeroed in on his face, searching for what he didn’t know.
“Max’s kid sister.”
His head snapped up. “What?”
“That’s all you see, isn’t it?”
She looked...disappointed in him, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. Something about the way she’d phrased the question didn’t sit right in his chest.
“That’s all you are to me.”
She stepped close, this time leaving no space between them. Testing the statement. Testing his resolve.
More seductive than anyone who’d been onstage Friday night. The vulnerability of it.
Nothing coy. Nothing but Kaylee looking up at him like she thought he was something special. It was fucking terrifying.
“Prove it.” Her hands snaked up his chest, over his shoulders, brushed the nape of his neck. “Kiss me.”
She felt good pressed against him. Too good. Like they fit together.
It took everything he had to pull her arms down.
“Not tonight.” Not ever, his conscience reminded him.
The hurt in her eyes was too much for him to take, but her troubled expression cleared a moment later. “I’m going to change your mind, Aidan.”
“No, you’re not. Now, come on.” He slipped his arm under her knees and picked her up, even though she was perfectly capable of walking. She snuggled into his chest, and just for a moment, Aidan let himself enjoy the feel of her in his arms.
He carried her out of the kitchen and into her bedroom. It took him too long to set her down, and it took her too long to step out of his arms.
The room was girly—a chandelier hung over her bed, which had a curvy upholstered headboard and way too many pillows, but the mattress was big. Probably a king. And he really needed to not concentrate on the bed right now.
Unfortunately, turning his attention back to her did nothing to alleviate thoughts of her bed, only now, he was imagining her naked, licking her lips exactly the way she was doing right now...
He was relieved when she turned away from him, but she ruined it quickly enough with a glance over her shoulder.
“Can you help me?” She caught her dark hair in her hand and twisted it up to reveal the graceful line of her neck. “With my dress?”
Shit.
Aidan swallowed as he reached for her zipper.
This couldn’t happen while she was drunk.
The thought stopped him short. What the actual hell?
This couldn’t happen while she was sober, either.
This couldn’t happen at all.
But even knowing that, his cock wouldn’t obey his brain, responding instead to the soft rasp of the zipper as he tugged it down and the slow reveal as the material gaped, baring the soft skin of her back inch by glorious inch. He wanted to run his fingertips along the delicate ridge of her spine. Unhook her lacy purple bra. Push the dress off her shoulders.
Lay her down on the bed and fuck her until they were both too weak to move.
Christ, he needed to get out of there.
“I’m going to get your water while you get changed.” His voice was rough with desire, and he hated himself for it as he turned and left the bedroom.
But his conscience wasn’t done with him yet. The far wall of her living room, he noticed, was dominated by a massive set of shelves packed with books.
When she was a teenager, Kaylee’s nose had been constantly in a novel. The reminder of the quiet, studious girl she’d been unleashed a torrent of guilt in his belly. He was here to ruin her brother for his cowardice, and she was destined to be collateral damage at best and the reason for Max’s downfall at worst. Aidan swore under his breath. Just because he’d had a soft spot for her back in the day didn’t mean he was going to let it derail his plans. The eagerness on her face when she managed to get him alone for a few minutes, begging him to tell her about his latest adventure. He’d always indulged her, trying to make up for Max’s intentional coldness.
Aidan used to wonder how Kaylee had grown up to be so sweet and curious when her mother spent most of her time beating her down, harping on everything from her clothes to her posture to her book obsession.
It always broke his heart a little, watching her desperation to please Max, who never betrayed for an instant how much he loved and respected his little sister.
At the time, Aidan had thought it ludicrous, but it hadn’t taken long to see that Max knew what he was talking about. Charles Whitfield aimed his verbal abuse at Max, and while he didn’t exactly dote on his daughter, he treated Kaylee with a superficial affection that she lapped up—next to the way Sylvia Whitfield treated her, it must have felt like unconditional love.
He’d always respected that about Max. The way he’d done what needed doing to protect his family.
If Aidan had known it was going to come back and bite him in the ass, he might not have. He’d confided in Max about his concerns over his dad, but when push came to shove, Max had been a Whitfield through and through. He’d sold John Beckett out to his own father. A man Max didn’t respect—hell, a man he barely even liked—and in doing so, he’d shattered what was left of Aidan’s family. And Aidan intended to return the favor.
As he grabbed Kaylee’s water, his conscience reared up, but he pushed it down. There was no room for sentiment and definitely no room for lust. The two of them couldn’t be together. She was simply an in to Max’s world. Nothing more.
When he returned, Kaylee was slung out on her stomach, one knee drawn up toward her chest, spectacular ass on display in a sexy little purple thong, snuffling drunkenly and fast asleep.
Thank Christ.
Aidan set the glass on her bedside table, beside the stack of books piled on it. But when he turned to leave, he caught sight of a mark on her skin, just beneath the lacy band of her bra, and everything in him went still.
It took a second for his mind to piece together where he’d last seen the tiny, graceful lines that made up the delicate butterfly perched on her rib cage.
In a starkly lit storage room.
In a midrange bar.
On a woman who’d made him crazy, driven him to unparalleled sexual heights.
Well, fuck.
CHAPTER NINE
THE JACKHAMMERING IN her head let Kaylee know she was in trouble even before she opened her eyes. There were a couple of other clues, of course. Her mouth tasted like death, throwing up sounded like a viable way to spend her morning, and her mind was replaying an embarrassing highlight reel of her night with Aidan. She whimpered, cradling her head.
She’d practically thrown herself at him, and he hadn’t even been tempted. She stumbled out of bed and headed straight for the en suite to brush her teeth and down a couple of aspirin.
She caught sight of the makeup sliding down her face. Ugh.
She was a mess.
Kaylee did her best to clean the smudged eye makeup while she replayed her time with Aidan. It would figure that she finally got her chance with him, her chance to be herself—ha
ve him see her as the woman she was now, not the girl she’d been then—and she’d ended up acting like a fifteen-year-old at a house party, doing nothing to dispel her kid-sister mantle.
It was mortifying.
With an inner groan, Kaylee made her way to the kitchen. She was at the counter and reaching to grab a mug from the cupboard by the time her muddled brain noticed the coffee was already brewed, which made no sense.
“We need to talk.”
Kaylee whirled around, hand to her chest. “Jesus, Aidan. You scared me.”
Her heart thundered in her ears, and she forced herself to take a couple of deep breaths. She didn’t know where he’d appeared from, but he was wearing the same clothes, including the jacket he’d loaned her. And unlike her, he looked just as amazing as he had last night.
The realization made her self-conscious in her bra-and-sweatpants combo, and she wished desperately she’d taken a moment to brush her hair before she’d begun her migration to the kitchen.
“You stayed here all night?” She turned her back on him, using the moment to calm her racing heart as she poured herself a mugful of coffee.
Her pulse was hammering in her skull, but she couldn’t tell if that was because of the hangover or because of Aidan. What was he still doing here? Surely getting her home safely marked the end of any duty he felt to keep her from doing something stupid. Like driving drunk. Or going home with Rick.
What did it mean that he’d stayed? The question sent a frisson down her spine. As Aidan approached, the air got thicker, making it tough to breathe.
She took a sip of caffeine to steady her nerves, but her hand was trembling so hard that she set it back on the counter before she turned to face him.
Her breasts were heavy, aching at his nearness. God he was beautiful. Big. Starkly male. Imposing. And given the sharp edge in his eyes, angry.
“Did you have something you wanted to tell me?”
He stepped closer, cutting the distance between them to a couple of feet. It should be intimidating, but the leashed danger of him sparked something primal in her, and it made her want to reach out and touch the flames, not quite convinced such beauty could be a threat.
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