by Vivian Wood
She looks perfect just then, with her long dark hair, her creamy pale skin, her azure eyes. With her rose petal lips and the twin blooms of heat in her cheeks, she’s an affecting picture. She could be a photograph, to keep close and remember forever.
Olivia turns her gaze on me, looking awestruck. “I feel like I can see everything in the entire world from this point. Like the vantage I’ve always been looking for is here and is real, somehow.”
I squeeze her hand. Gazing at her, my lips turn up. “It really is something to see.”
I’m only halfway talking about the view, although that is something to see. Still, I can’t take my gaze off of Olivia. Her blue eyes bore into mine. Her gaze drops down to my lips for just a second, as her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.
She wants to kiss me as bad as I want to kiss her. I want to spear my hands in her hair and bend her back, exploring her lips and neck with my mouth until she moans.
Her gaze comes back up, crackling. Her lips part, as if she is about to put words to her need. But she surprises me.
“No,” she says, her voice a wisp of sound. “Don’t, Aiden.”
My eyebrows arch. “You don’t know what I’m going to say, Olivia.”
“But I do.” She squeezes my hand. “You’re going to say that you are attracted to me. That you think about fucking me. But you know you can’t because you made a promise to my brother.”
I still. She’s absolutely right, shaking me to my core.
I believe what Grayson said.
I’m not at all what Olivia needs or deserves. But that doesn’t make saying it aloud in front of her any easier.
Things go awkward between us in the midst of all this silence. “You’re right,” I rasp.
Olivia tugs her hand from mine, turning and heading back up toward land. She slips once, making me start to move toward her. But she just keeps going, a determined set to her shoulders. She can’t be going that far, since I brought her here. Still, it fills me with a kind of guilt, knowing that she is so angry with me.
I feel like I’ve somehow let her down again. Like by choosing to obey Grayson’s rules, I’m somehow denying her something vital.
Glancing back at the sea, I sigh. I start following in Olivia’s footsteps to return to my Jeep.
When I get back to Olivia, I find her leaning up against the car door with a faraway expression on her face. It makes me wonder what she is thinking about. Instead of unlocking the Jeep, I lean next to her, folding my arms across my chest.
“I can’t keep doing this,” I say, squinting off into the woods.
After a moment she speaks, her voice quiet. “What?”
“This whole… like… will they or won’t they thing. I’m trying to be a better man. The bigger man. I’m trying to obey the only rule set out for me by your brother.”
Her lips twist. “And it just so happens to be a rule that says you’re not allowed to touch me?”
Sighing, I nod. “It does. Grayson has always been there for me, always supported me. For me to ignore the one thing he asks me not to do…” I go quiet for a second. “Please don’t make this any harder for me than it needs to be, Olivia. I’m asking you.”
Anger flashes across her face. For a moment, I think that she might actually hit me. “First of all, don't play the victim here. You are as much a part of whatever has been going on between us as I am. And secondly, Grayson does not run my life. He doesn’t get a say in who I go to bed with.”
My fists clench. It isn’t what I want, not by a long shot. But it is what I need to do. I blow out a breath.
“Fine.” I clench my teeth. “I choose Grayson, Olivia. First and foremost. That will always be my answer.”
She looks at me with the same hurt bewildered expression as if I had physically hit her. It rips my guts out that she feels the way she’s looking at me just now.
I’ve hurt her, before we were even involved.
Standing up straight, I go around to the driver’s side door and climb in. I unlock the passenger door and Olivia gets in, carefully avoiding my gaze.
That’s fine. I guess I can’t have it two ways, can I?
Starting the Jeep, I peel out, the tires squealing.
19
Olivia
Aiden made a mistake yesterday.
When we were at Tongue Point, he let down his walls, let me see the real him.
Not the sometimes-joker.
Not the player.
Just him, stripped bare.
I looked up into his dark eyes, his features so intense. He made a plea for me not to make his life harder. And when I fired back at him — said that he is as much a part of whatever has been going on between us as I am — I saw into his soul for a moment.
He’s going to crack. That resolution that he carries around himself like a flag used as a cloak — it is wavering. Then all his bullshit excuses about my brother being the reason he can’t be with me…
Well, I guess we will have to see.
I go back to work in the library, biting my cheek, wondering what the exact tipping point will be for Aiden. I’m more than a little distracted as I continue to catalog the last few stacks of documents. Every other line written in my ledger I’ve had to correct with white out.
My mind keeps wandering back to the first time we kissed. Not the first time that I kissed him, but the time a few days back when he kissed me like he meant it.
The heat between us.
His mouth pressed against mine, seducing me with strokes of his tongue.
For just a minute, he owned me. Dominated me.
For a heartbeat, I was ready to be ruined by him.
How he made this deep sound in his chest — a growl almost — that made my breasts ache, made me clamp my thighs together.
So much promise there, in a simple kiss. A chill rolls down my spine, just thinking about it.
Lost in my thoughts, I spend the day slowly emptying the last of the papers from the library. I try not to spend too much time at the windows, looking for signs of Aiden.
It’s better if I let him come to me. The past few weeks have proven that, time and again. I just have to try to be patient.
When I finally do see him again, it’s almost early evening. After taking the last armload of papers upstairs, I find a stopping place. There is maybe three more days of work ahead, catching up on the papers I have already moved to the ballroom.
Done for the day, I head back to my apartment. My mind is on what I have to do for the next few days. I make a mental checklist for myself as I walk down the wooded path. When I come out the other side into the clearing, I stop in my tracks.
My heart pounds.
My brain threatens to overheat.
Aiden is right there in front of me, shirtless, high up on a ladder that leans up against the house. He’s facing away from me, scraping at the exterior, his body practically glowing with sweat. His back is about the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
Little rivulets of perspiration mark his lower back, tracing their way down into the waist of his black boxer briefs, peeking out of his jeans.
Oh my god. The things I would like to do to him right now…
He stiffens for a second, feeling my gaze on his back. Then Aiden turns his head, scowling at me.
“What?” he barks.
My eyes widen. “Nothing!” I manage, dropping my gaze.
I rush past him to the door of my apartment, pushing inside. Once I’m through the door, I close it behind me. Standing with my back against the door, I try to control my racing heart.
Why is he mad?
I didn’t do anything, except be caught standing there staring at him. That wouldn’t have fazed Aiden at one point.
Which means… he is close to breaking. All he needs is a little nudge to get him to tip over that point, the point of no return. God, I really need him to get to that point already.
Wandering over to the window, I move the linen covering just a bit to see Aiden. I c
an only see part of his leg from here.
Frowning, I let the linen drop.
This is stupid. I shouldn’t have to wait around for him to get emotional enough to jump me. But what can I do?
A sly thought sneaks into my brain. Make him angry. Angry enough to make him DO something to you.
I know, I know. It’s not like me. But I read an article recently about being more assertive in relationships, how it’s really a turn on to men. And it honestly wouldn’t even be very hard. I just need the right clothes and a savage remark. He’s at the edge already, looking for a way out.
Maybe if I just… give him a nudge…
That won’t be so bad, right?
I run to my room, stripping. I change into my favorite pink bra and panties, lacy and see through. Then I add a long t-shirt over the top, a slightly sheer one that I normally wear with a layer underneath and leggings.
I let my hair down and put on just a touch of mascara. Too frazzled to look in the mirror, I leave my bedroom and rush to the door again. Taking a deep breath, I open the door.
What am I going to say that will push him over the edge?
I search my mind for what made him mad in the past. Stepping outside as I ruminate, I find that it doesn’t take Aiden very long to notice me. Specifically, the clothes I am wearing.
He turns around on the ladder. “Where are you going?”
My mouth turns up at the corners. “Out.”
“Dressed like that?” He looks me up and down, his gaze so intense I can almost feel it burning me. “Who are you going to see?”
Ah. He’s jealous. An idea rises in my mind and I put my hands on my hips.
“Carter,” I reply. “I wanted to dress up. You know, impress him a little.”
That does it. His face darkens like the sky before rain. “You don’t need to impress anyone, Olivia. Especially not him. And especially not wearing… that.”
I turn away and start slowly walking toward the wooded path. “Why? I think I look kind of… sexy.”
My cheeks redden, but my words only seem to drive him more crazy. Suddenly Aiden is climbing down the ladder, his face dark as a thunderclap. I keep walking, although it’s much slower than I would move if I actually aimed at not being caught. When he reaches me, he grabs me by the forearm and spins me around to face him with a flick of his wrist.
My eyes go wide as he pulls me up against the hardness of his body. He glares down at me, as if he can force me to submit to his will just with a look.
He’s nearly right. God, until this moment, I forgot how much bigger he is than me.
Aiden jerks my arms behind me and shackles both of my wrists with one hand. “You’re not going anywhere, little girl.”
Swallowing, I can feel myself begin to tremble as I retort. “You don’t have any say in it, Aiden. Who are you to tell me what to do with my body?”
His eyes seem to crackle with malevolence. “You’re not throwing away your virginity on Carter.”
“I am,” I spit back. “It’s mine to do with what I wish. And because you don’t want me—”
He lurches down and puts his lips against mine, his kiss as punishing as it is sudden. I resist at first, which only seems to make him more intent. Struggling against his grasp, I refuse to open my mouth under his tongue and lips.
But inside, my heart sings. He’s shirtless and slick from sweat, his chest heaving.
What is that old adage? How men want what they cannot have?
Aiden definitely wants me right now. I can tell because I’m pressed tightly against his groin. I can feel his thick erection, so large it is frightening, and only growing harder every time I struggle.
He wins though, despite my defiance. He cups my jaw and gets his tongue in my mouth, which is pretty damn hot. I love the way he tastes, like mint and sweat and lust. The hand holding my wrists lets them go in favor of pressing me against him, grinding us together hard.
Aiden steps back several times, taking me with him. Then he backs me up against the house, pinning me in place with one of his warm thighs. He grabs my tee shirt and rips it down the front, exposing my bra.
He must like what he sees, because his lips find my collarbone, sucking on it for a second before moving down to my breast. It feels incredible. My eyes close for a second. My head drops back to rest against the house.
I can feel his mouth as it hovers over my breast, teasing. Arching my back, I thrust my breast forward to meet his lips. Aiden closes his wet mouth over my nipple, biting it and sucking it hard through the sheer pink fabric.
I stiffen, feeling my pussy grow wet. It’s like there is a flow of energy going from my nipple to down between my legs, and the connection is slowly growing stronger. Every time his tongue moves against my skin, abrading it the slightest bit, I grow more restless.
Needing more from Aiden but not knowing exactly what, I wrap my legs around his back. He groans against my breast, which causes little vibrations to escape his mouth too. Those vibrations cause gooseflesh to break out all over my body. He cups my other breast, kissing down into my cleavage.
Then one of his hands slips from my outer thigh up to my inner knee, caressing its way up toward my pussy by slow degrees. He stops his hand just below the vortex between my legs, moving it to the top of my thigh and squeezing it hard. I gasp at the sensation, wriggling against him. My arms are around his neck, my fingers ploughing through the thickness of his dark hair.
“Please…” I whisper, even though I don’t know exactly what I want. My whole pussy throbs with need.
Aiden kisses my nipple again, then bites it. I shiver as a river of feeling flows over me, dragging me down and putting me at risk of washing away completely. Then he stops, looking at me with his intense, dark gaze.
“Please what?” he says, his voice gone to gravel.
I’m too shy to answer right away. I blush red, though I’m already so flushed right now that it hardly matters.
While he waits for an answer, he runs his lips up the column of my neck. I swear, I catch fire in that moment, going from a pool of gasoline to a full blaze. He is the match that, once struck, has now changed some essential part of me. There’s no returning to the girl I once was, untouched by Aiden Moreland.
So I burn. It’s not aimless, not without purpose, either. I burn for Aiden, the flames reaching higher and higher until they threaten to raze down the entire world around us.
It feels like I have waited my entire life for this moment. My heart pounds in my ears, its chant encouraging me.
Go on. Do it. This is. Your chance.
“Please,” I plead with him, working to find the words. “Take me. Break me. Do what you want with me. I’m yours.”
Aiden stiffens and straightens, peering down into my eyes. He scans my face, an unspoken question hanging in the air between us.
He huffs out a breath. “You want me to be your first?”
“I—”
A cry comes through the woods from the direction of the main house, a man’s voice. “Olivia! Aiden! Someone!”
We both freeze, our attention turning to the voice.
“Is that Carter?” I whisper.
“Help! I need help!” the voice shouts.
Aiden lets me slide down before he steps away. It’s like something shifts in him, the sex god that I was just with retreating, the Navy man stepping forward into his place.
I clutch at the edges of my ruined shirt, my eyes wide. Aiden glances back at me, hesitating for a moment. “Go,” I urge, moving toward my apartment. “I will follow you once I throw on a sweater.”
He turns and breaks into a jog, his mind on whatever is going wrong at the main house. I run into my apartment and shove the first sweater I find down over my head. Then I sprint to the main house, just in time to see Aiden and Carter lifting an obviously ailing Margaret into the back seat of Carter’s silver Mercedes.
Oh, God. At Margaret’s age, almost anything could be wrong. I get tears in my eyes as I realize that
she might not be okay.
Aiden looks around as he circles the car to get in the passenger side. He spots me and mimes a phone, which I assume means he will call me, I guess.
And then they are gone, the Mercedes taking off down the gravel path in a whoosh of dust. I stare after them, only realizing when they are gone that I am shaking like a leaf.
20
Aiden
When Carter and I drive Margaret to the hospital, we are only concerned that she has fallen and twisted an ankle. It’s only later that we discover that she’s had some sort of mini-stroke shortly before that.
Inevitably, this prompts Carter to call the entire Morgan family to come to St. Luke’s Medical Center. After waiting impatiently for hours, the doctors tell Carter and I that Margaret hasn’t broken her ankle. They will be keeping her for the next few days to monitor her and change her medications, though. She’ll need a lot of rest, I guess.
As the family begins to arrive, I fade into the background. When I walk out of the hospital and hail a taxi to the Morgan estate, I feel little relieved that something worse didn’t happen to Margaret. She is already practically a ghost, hobbling around the ground floor of the mansion all alone.
I can’t stop picturing the family, her nieces and nephews pressing their faces eagerly against the windows of the house. My aunts and uncles, if my mother’s tales were true.
I get a bad taste in my mouth after that thought.
What will happen to the estate without Margaret? It really doesn’t bode well for my search for my true father, I guess. I stare out the window of the taxi, my own thoughts making me feel morbid.
By the time I get back to the big house, Olivia comes running out to the taxi to meet me. As I hand the driver a wad of cash, she demands information from me.
“What happened?” she says, gripping me by the elbow. “Is Margaret okay?”
I sigh, pulling her along as I head for the front porch of the main house.
“She is resting comfortably. We thought she had maybe broken her ankle, but it’s just a bad sprain.” I hesitate. “There is some bad news, though.”
