by Amber Rayne
The transition to managing his company was easier than I’d expected since we didn’t have to hire new staff. Some of the employees from the previous management company had moved over to our company. Three weeks into the transition, Jules was still beaming and considered each challenge we were faced with a simple growing pain of the business. Putting aside the fact that I was in essence working for the man I’d had a twenty-one-day fling with, it was hard not to be swept up in Jules’s felicity.
I was determined to set some boundaries, and one was declining one of the townhomes offered with the position. Being in the office was a reminder of who I worked for; I didn’t want to go home and be reminded of it there too. I thought about him a lot less, and I knew that in a couple more weeks, everything about him would be a distant memory.
Which meant that, when I saw Aiden standing in my office, casually leaning against the door frame, his hands shoved in his pockets, looking at me, the desire and longing I felt threw a wrench in the works.
“How are things going?”
Casting my eyes down, I pretended to be distracted by the papers in front of me.
“Ella, look at me when we talk.” It was the same sexy, commanding voice he’d used before, and it was hard not to allow it to rekindle the erotic memories I associated with his commands.
I lifted my eyes to meet his. “How are things going?” he repeated.
“Fine.”
He watched me, a curve playing at his lips, seductive and playful. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”
I couldn’t put on a brave face and present a bravado that I didn’t possess. “Don’t do this to me,” I said, unable to raise my voice higher than a whisper.
“It’s just lunch, Ella.” His tone matched mine.
I stood, holding eye contact with him. “But it’s not just anything with you, ever. It was just supposed to be seven days, and then it was just supposed to be fourteen days, until you wanted it to be more.”
“I didn’t force you to stay, Ella.”
“But you and I both know I wasn’t going to stop it. Because I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay…with you.”
Looking at him was getting harder. I dropped my gaze, and he moved closer to me, placing his finger on my chin and lifting my face until my eyes met his.
“That was your choice. Our choice. Right?”
“Fine. Then my choice now is to say no.”
“Ella, you’re being—”
“I’m being me. But fine, if you like…because that’s pretty much what’s it been about. I’ll play your game. You always said that I can be honest with you. Fine. I don’t want to play your games anymore. To be teased by you, only to be caught up in the lies you tell yourself. The weeks we were together, you said it was about pleasure, yours and mine. Let’s continue that. It would please me if you just kept this professional. Don’t ask me out, don’t try to fuck me because I’m the flavor you want today. Just…” I inhaled a ragged breath, finding it harder with each passing moment to hold his penetrating steely gaze. “Just leave me alone,” I said, adding, “Please.”
“There is no need for a please.” He nodded graciously, his stolid face not giving me any more information other than that he was listening. He had heard me. “From now on, things can be handled through my assistant, if that will make you happy.”
“It will.” I turned away, refusing to give him any more of my attention, which was difficult. I sensed his presence for the few moments he lingered, and long after he’d left.
Fuck.
My jeans, shirt, and heels were taken off as quickly as I’d put them on. I didn’t want to go to another club, something that I had been doing for several weeks. If I wasn’t at the local bar, I was out at a club with people that I used as a distraction. If someone asked me to go for drinks after work, I did. I kept myself distracted, but after my conversation with Aiden earlier, I just wanted a quiet night at home. Hair pulled into a messy ponytail, wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt that was a couple sizes too big, but comfortable, I had settled in for a night of binge watching, wine, and popcorn.
The phone buzzed: Are you home? Aiden
More than ten minutes had passed before I answered. Yes
I would like to see you: Aiden.
I stared at the message. Type no, I scolded myself, and I had every intention of doing it, but I didn’t. I didn’t reply, hoping he would take my nonresponse as a tacit refusal. It wasn’t my most mature moment, but I just couldn’t decline him when I really should have.
It wasn’t implied, though, apparently; fifteen minutes later, Aiden was at my door. When I opened it, he didn’t step in, instead hesitating at the entrance.
“If you want me to leave, I will.”
I opened the door wider and stepped aside. We stood in silence, obviously with different plans for the night. With Aiden still dressed in business clothes, it was more than apparent that our worlds were really just different.
“I’ve missed you,” he said after moments of awkward silence. Stepping closer, he hesitated before kissing me lightly. Slow and sensual.
And as I had each time he touched me, I responded, leaning into the kiss. Lacing my fingers though his hair, pulling him to me, hungry for more. Commanding lips explored mine, his fingers curled around my hips as he lifted me. My legs wrapped around him before he carried me to my bedroom. He laid me on the bed, slowly removing my clothes, his tongue laving over the exposed skin in languid movements as he inched over the curves of my body.
I shuddered as he nipped at me, feeling pleasure and pain in an erotic blend that had become his artistry. He cupped my breasts before taking them into his mouth, drawing a moan from me, his touch a mastery of rough and gentle. Splaying his hands over me, he played me like an instrument. Hands roamed over my body, and he watched me hungrily, stopping only to remove his clothes. I drank him in: his toned chest, the delineated muscles that ran down his abs and wrapped around his back.
I longed for him and the sensual rasp of his voice as he whispered my name. He nestled into me, resting his cock against my entrance as he teased my clit with his fingers. My desire sparked and my need grew more urgent as it pulsed in me. I arched my hips, trying to assuage the growing desire that needed to be sated. He smiled, enjoying it as I bucked and writhed under him, seeking to slate the fiery desire that was overtaking me.
When he drove into me, I relaxed, giving into the humbling pain of accommodating him, something I was reminded of each time. With deep, rapacious movements, he took me harder with each motion. The longing that had been building up in me for weeks overtook me. Pricks of warmth roiled over me, spreading over my nipples, to my stomach, to my clit as he stroked against. It. More fervently, he rocked his hips into me, coaxing a moan out of me, his fingers digging into my legs as he held them to the sides. The orgasm overwhelmed my body, rampaging through me. I shuddered. Wilting into the bed, Aiden lay over me, kissing me.
“Absolutely delicious,” he breathed in his husky voice, languorously running his hands over me, and I relaxed back more over his tender touch. He rolled off me, bringing me to my side to face him. Brushing the hair out of my face, he kissed me tenderly, gently stroking me.
“Ella, I asked that you be honest with me and said that I would do the same—but I haven’t been,” he said quietly. It was a long time before he spoke again. “I shouldn’t have let you leave. I wasn’t being honest about any of it.”
Another long breath, and he said, “I don’t think that I can love you the way you should be loved,” he admitted.
I kissed him, pulling him close to me as I buried my head in his chest.
“Then love me the way that you know how. I don’t think you will disappoint me, and I won’t disappoint you.”
He pulled me in closer, then pulled away to kiss me. “I love you.”
EPILOGUE
“Take off your clothes,” Aiden commanded in a low voice, standing just a few inches from me.
“You can’t be serio
us.”
“Ella, take off your clothes. Slowly,” he repeated, sexy and steeled.
I slowly unbuttoned my shirt and let it slip to the floor, then slipped out my pants and kicked them to the side.
“Delicious.”
I looked down, running my hand over my round stomach, which protruded out from my body.
“You cannot possibly find this sexy.”
He approached me, his eyes dancing with a wolfish command as they always did, and knelt down before me, pressing his lips to my belly.
“Why wouldn’t I? You look just as beautiful as the day you did on our wedding day. You were sexy then.” He looked up and winked, a smirk on his face. “Although wearing white was a stretch. And I still want to do naughty things to you.”
I laughed, having no doubt that he did. Three years later, and he looked at me with the same adoration and love as he had the day we’d said our vows. The ones we’d said in a crowded church among our friends and family, and the ones we had promised to each other. We would always commit to the truth, and each day was about pleasure—and being married to each other, we fulfilled our vows every day.
Seven days had turned into three years and twenty-seven days.
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