“I’m sorry,” I say. “But you just got attacked by ducks.”
He stops at the gates, facing me, his entire face bright red. Tiny little marks cover his face, neck, and arms, and his shirt is ripped on the shoulder in two places. “Did you see the size of that swan? And when he spread its wings out at me? He was going to eat me,” he screeches, glancing towards the pond as if he’s afraid they can hear him. “I’m calling the council. They have psycho birds and it’s not safe for kids.”
I look down at Sunday, sleeping soundly. “She’s fine.”
He glares at me. “I’m fucking not.”
“Aww, poor baby.”
His glare intensifies. “Not a word of this to anyone.”
“How are you going to explain being soaked to your mum?”
“I’ll tell her I was getting something for Sunday?”
“What? A fish?”
His eyes narrow into slits. “Yes—no—I don’t know! I’ll think of something when we get there. I’ll have to borrow some of Dad’s clothes.”
I lean in a little, sniffing him. “And take a shower, ‘cause you smell worse than the eggs this morning.”
He groans. “Can we forget about all of this? We can start over and do something else,” he says, sounding pitiful. “Just not at this park,” he quickly adds.
“I heard the ducks are bigger in Hetsford.”
His head swivels slowly to face me, his mouth agape and eyes round in terror. “Never, and I mean never, mention ducks again. I’ll be surprised if I can have more kids after today.” He storms off, his clothes dripping a trail of water behind him. I giggle and take another photo.
I’m totally showing his mum and dad.
I might even send it to Lily and Charlotte.
“What do you mean?” I ask, running to catch up with him.
We head towards his mum’s, and he sticks his nose up at any people who dare to stare at him. He waits until no one is around before leaning down, his eyes filled with sadness and pain. “One of them kept going for my dick. I swear, it was like that Woody the Woodpecker toy that pecks all the way down the tree until it reaches the bottom. But instead of it moving, it stayed in one place. That shit hurt, even with jeans on.”
He looks around with wide eyes, a pink tinge to his cheeks. I stop walking to hold onto the wall when laughter bubbles free. I laugh so hard my side hurts and I have to bend down on my knees to stop myself from peeing my pants.
He walks back until he’s beside me. “Will you get up? You’re drawing attention to us,” he hisses out.
Say’s the person still dripping water everywhere.
I look up, blinking away the drop of water from his T-shirt that lands in my eye, and laugh harder.
“Oh, my God,” I gasp out. “I can’t breathe.” I wipe away the tears on my cheeks, trying hard not to picture his face when the birds attacked. But I do, and it only gets harder to stop laughing.
“Fucks sake,” he growls, before bending down and picking me up. I lean against him for support. “I go through a traumatic experience and you’re laughing. My remains would have been fish food.”
I look up through tears of laughter. “Fish food?”
He rolls his eyes before walking off. More composed than before, I follow him, but as people stare, it’s hard not to be reminded of what just happened.
“Jump on my back,” he calls back to me. I’m still laughing like a hyena, and that comment has me sobering, looking at his back in bewilderment.
“What? Why?”
He stops to look back at me. “Because my boxers are chafing my balls and you’re taking your sweet-ass time.”
“Then I’ll be wet,” I tell him, wiping my cheeks.
His eyes dilate, darkening with hunger. “Really?”
I roll my eyes. “I promise to behave.”
“No way in hell. Get on my back or I’m carrying you over my shoulder.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me,” he warns, smirking. “If you don’t, I’ll make a big scene out of it.”
“You’ve got Sunday,” I remind him.
“I’m a mum and dad now. I can multitask like a pro.”
A step back and he charges, bending at the waist and lifting me over his shoulder. I scream.
“Put me down!”
He slaps my arse. “Stop asking me to spank you,” he yells. “There are children present.”
I can feel my face redden, and it’s not from hanging upside down. “Aiden!”
“Gonna jump on my back?” When I don’t answer, he smacks me again. “Stop feeling me up in public. You can wait for S.E.X. later tonight when the baby is sleeping.”
I look up and see an old couple weeding their garden. They narrow their eyes in disgust, shaking their heads. A man walking away from his van just grins at us.
“Okay. You win. I’ll get on your back.”
He lets go of the pushchair and slides me down his body. A shiver of desire runs through me. I swallow past the lump in my throat, but never break eye contact.
When he cups the side of my face, I sigh, longing to close my eyes but also not wanting to break the moment.
“I can’t wait to get you alone.”
“Let’s go, then,” I tell him, sounding breathless. I move around him, and without wasting time, place my hands on his shoulders and jump. I wrap my legs around him, squealing when he bounces me higher up his back.
“This position will be fun later,” he flirts.
My core heats. I bring my mouth to his ear. “Got to get me home first,” I whisper.
I laugh when he picks up speed, every so often stopping to lift me back up from where I’ve slid down.
I’ve not fought my attraction towards him. I’m not one to play games—I was never taught or shown how. And even if I had grown up differently, I still truly believe I’d crave him just as much as I do now.
To some people, that might make me sound easy. But I’m not. I trusted him the very first moment I saw him. It helped that he says what he thinks. He doesn’t sugar-coat things.
It feels like I’ve waited a long time to have him.
And tonight, I will.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
AIDEN
I finish dishing up the meatballs and spaghetti before heading into the front room. I’d left Bailey to set up the surround sound for the latest Jurassic Park movie. When I walk in, she’s typing away on her phone, giggling quietly.
“Who’s texting you?”
She jumps, dropping her phone on the sofa. “Shit. You scared me.”
Just then, my phone vibrates, then beeps in my jeans. I glare at her, gasping in shock. “You didn’t!”
She bites her bottom lip. “Didn’t what?”
I set the plates down on the table before pulling my phone out. Two pictures come through; one is of me, right before I plunged into the pond.
It took me a shower at Mum’s and a shower at home before I got all the grime and slime off me.
I think I even swallowed some of the water. I shudder as I look at the picture, flashbacks happening.
And if that wasn’t humiliating enough, the next picture is of an innocent-looking duck.
This duck is wanted for questioning over an incident that happened at The Pond park earlier today. He is known to be violent, so please do not approach. Man is said to be in critical condition.
MADDOX: Charlotte posted this on Facebook. I called Aunt Teagan; she verified this is true. I’m laughing so hard right now.
LANDON: LMFAO. This made me laugh.
ME: ARSEHOLES! And you don’t know how to laugh—stop lying. And the picture was taken out of context.
MADDOX: She has another picture of the epic fall into the pond. Ask Bailey to record it next time.
I look up from my phone and glare at Bailey. She happily ignores me. “I’m going to get a glass of wine. I’ll grab you a beer.”
I sit down on the sofa, wondering how I’m going to get out of this one.
LANDON: I think he’s crying.
MARK: Mum said he had tears running down his face when he got back.
ME: It was fucking water!!!
ME: And those birds were on fucking speed and steroids. They attacked me.
LANDON: You gonna file a report?
ME: FUCK YOU! And when the fuck did Charlotte get Facebook?
LANDON: She wanted to make sure people knew how violent the ducks were, so started up an account.
MADDOX: And a group to make people aware.
ME: Please tell me you’re not serious!
MARK: She’ll be adding you soon. She’s trying to figure out how to work it.
LANDON: On my way to help her.
ME: I don’t believe you.
Mark sends a link through. I click on it and it directs me to a group on Facebook. Over four thousand people are already members. The group’s name has me groaning. Dangerous Ducks Attack Local. I scroll down to the description, and in detail is the entire ordeal.
I’m going to kill Bailey.
My phone continues to blast with messages, so I quickly flick it on vibrate.
She walks in, humming to herself. I grab my plate of food, sulking.
“You okay?”
My fork pauses midway to my mouth at her words. I place it down on my plate, turning to look at her. She sucks a string of spaghetti into her mouth, moaning.
I lick my lips, shifting on the sofa.
I forget about the whole Facebook dilemma and concentrate on those lips and the sounds escaping her.
“This is so good,” she mumbles, moaning again.
My dick tightens in my pants.
I clear my throat. “By any chance did you send Charlotte a picture from today?”
She blinks innocently. “Yeah, she wanted to see Sunday’s first day at the park.”
“Really?” I comment dryly.
Her face brightens. “Yeah. I told her about the bird incident, too. Why?”
“And who made the graphics out of those pictures?” She loses her composure and starts giggling. Then it clicks. “Wait, that was what you were doing in your office while I showered?”
She wipes under her eyes, straightening herself up. “Sorry, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
“She’s put it all over Facebook,” I yell, hurt by her laughter. “And set up a group. Did you tell her to put it on Facebook?”
She chuckles. “No. I was just hoping she’d send it to your family.”
I raise my eyebrow at her. “She did.”
“How many friends does she have?” she asks, her eyes lit with amusement.
“I don’t know. She didn’t have it before today. Our parents were strict on the girls not using social media because of cyberbullying and that. When they left school, all of them opened accounts but Lily and Charlotte. She’s gonna read that, What’s on your mind? status every day and actually write what is on her mind.”
“Can’t be that bad,” she mutters, taking another bite of food. I watch, trying not to get distracted.
“She woke her mum and dad up once because she kept thinking about the twins. Maddox was born first and Maddison was born after midnight. She wondered if they were still classed as twins since they were born on different days—”
“Are they?” she interrupts, looking interested.
I roll my eyes. “Fuck if I know. They share a birthday still as she was only born two minutes after.”
“Never even thought about that,” she mutters.
“Anyway, point of the story is thanks for making me trend on Facebook,” I say dryly when she doesn’t seem to care.
“Don’t you trend on Twitter?”
My eyes widen, hoping like fuck Charlotte doesn’t have Twitter too.
I smirk. “I’m Aiden Carter; I trend anywhere.”
“Are you going to answer your phone?”
I glance over to the table where my phone is vibrating, then look at her like she’s lost her mind. “To listen to them call me a pussy? No thanks.”
She groans. “I don’t get that saying. They’re basically saying pussies are weak. But if you think about it, men only get tapped in the groin area and it’s like watching a football player trying to get a penalty. You act like you just got hit by a two-by-four. You don’t see girls doing that.”
I chuckle, leaning back on the sofa. “I’ll text them later and tell them to call me a dick instead.”
“Nah, chicken seems fitting.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Funny.”
“Quack, quack!”
I chuckle at her sense of humour before finishing off the rest of my food.
*** *** ***
We’re not even twenty minutes into the movie and Bailey is sobbing into my T-shirt. I’m all for her clinging to me, but the tears, even over a movie, tighten my chest. I lay back on the sofa, kicking my feet up and lying her directly on top of me.
“Hey, what are you doing?” she mumbles against my chest, still sniffling.
“Getting comfy.”
She looks up at me, her eyes glistening with tears. Even upset she has to be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Oh,” she whispers, before glancing back at the television.
As she shifts her body around to get more comfortable, her pussy rubs against my dick, causing me to groan when I feel myself stiffen.
“Did I hurt you?” she asks, looking back up at me with those big round eyes.
“No,” I choke out, my voice husky.
Our gazes lock, neither of us looking away. Not that I want to; I could watch her all day.
I gently push back the hair clinging to her wet cheek, and her lips part.
Feeling this is the moment, I slide her up my body until her face is level with mine. Her breathing is heavy, her breasts pressed up against my chest. I graze my nose against hers, and her chest lifts with a small gasp.
When I pull back, I have to fight not to look away. The way she’s looking at me… always like I’m front and centre. No other girl has been able to do that to me; make me feel like I stand out from the rest of my family. We’re all good-looking guys, and girls fight over us, but given the chance, they would jump from one bed to the next, just to say they’ve had us all.
“Why is it that when you look at me, it’s like you can read my mind?” I whisper huskily, rubbing my thumb up and down her cheek.
“I was just thinking something similar. It’s almost like you can read me—like you see who I am, inside and out.”
“Only because you let me,” I admit. The trust she hands over freely to me is humbling, especially knowing about her past and how many times she’s been fucked over. Thinking of everything she told me this morning feels like a lifetime ago.
I got drunk the night before, thinking what we shared was over. I took something else in my life for granted, always trusting it would be there. Then she was gone because I fucked up. I didn’t see a way back for us.
And now I’m here, with her in my arms, and I’ll never take it for granted again.
“Because you make it easy to,” she suddenly says. She blinks slowly, like she didn’t mean to let that out in the open.
A grin teases the corner of my mouth and I pull her further up, so she has to lean over me, her face directly above mine.
Her hair falls like a curtain, covering us. I raise my hands and cup her face, my thumbs resting on her cheeks, and then I bring her face down to mine.
I close my eyes, not fighting back the groan that escapes when her lips meet mine. She’s so close. She’s everywhere. Her hands roam up my chest, her body relaxes on top of mine, and I can’t fight back the desire.
It’s powerful and all-consuming.
I pull back to catch my breath, the taste of her still in my mouth. And I crave more—I crave her.
Her eyes are cloudy with desire, and before I can suggest we take it slow, she grabs my face in her own hands, keeping me still before slamming her lips back down on mine.
>
I moan into her mouth, now gripping her arse in the palm of my hands. Satisfaction surges through me when she lets out a breathless moan of her own, rubbing herself against me.
Unable to handle it any longer and needing to be inside her, I grip her arse tightly and shoot to the edge of the sofa. She squeals in surprise, pulling back to stare down at me.
She’s just as effected as I am—if not more, and something flares inside me.
“I need you,” I tell her, desire thick in my voice.
Not even caring that I don’t know where I’m going, I lift us both from the couch, heading towards the stairs.
She kisses the side of my mouth, moving along my jaw and down my neck, then licking a trail up towards my ear.
Fuck it.
I slam her against her the wall, and distantly, I hear a picture frame fall to the floor. Neither of us looks or even cares as we continue to assault one another’s mouths. She grips the hair at the bottom of my neck, using it to control the kiss. I try to slow it down, wanting to do this properly, all romantic and shit, but something surges through her with a shudder, and she kisses me like she can’t breathe without me.
Fire explodes inside me when her nails claw at my back, trying to lift my shirt. Dropping her to floor, she sways towards me, drunk on lust. I hold her up whilst using one hand to remove my shirt. Her tongue flicks her top lip, her eyes hungrily raking over me.
“Your turn,” I bite out huskily, barely holding on by a thread. I’ve never been so hard in my life, and the need I feel to have her is compelling. She is addictive.
I pull her T-shirt over her head, trying to be as gentle as I can, not wanting to scare her. She doesn’t seem to mind, her hands going behind her back to unsnap her bra.
The second her dark rose nipples flash, I’m on her, lifting her back up the wall and taking one in my mouth.
She cries out, gripping my shoulders as she arches her back to give me more.
Always giving me more.
I show the same affection to the other.
We need a bed before I fuck her right here—hard—against the wall. She protests when I pull away, trying to bring me closer. I chuckle against her nipple and they tighten. I grin, looking up at her.
“Bed?”
Aiden (A Next Generation Carter Brother Novel Book 2) Page 21
