Aidan
Page 3
For the first time in so long, I liked who I was and could tell he did as well. I don’t think Aidan has been with many women who don’t worship at his feet. I was fun and fearless with him. But how will that translate in the light of the day? Will I crawl back into my shell and retreat to my self-pity-filled existence thus losing what little ground I feel I’ve gained? The very thought fills me with dread and spurs me into action. I’m not ready to find out. I need to get out of here before he wakes up. I want him to remember the Kara from earlier and not the version I’ve allowed myself to become.
It’s no easy feat, but I manage to slip out of his arms and slide to the edge of the bed. Even though my bladder feels as if it’s going to burst, I don’t risk using the bathroom. Instead, I quickly gather my clothes and tiptoe down the hallway. I dress in the foyer before quietly opening the door and stepping outside. The sun is high in the sky and temporarily blinds me as it reflects back from the ocean. I curse under my breath as I realize that my walk of shame is going to be long. I’m not about to go back inside and wake Aidan, though. My newfound confidence is fragile at best, and I plan to cling to it with everything I have. I can’t see Aidan again until I know if last night was just a fluke or if I’ve possibly turned some type of corner. Because either I’ve finally gone crazy or Aidan Spencer fucked me back to life. Dear God, I can only imagine how big his already inflated ego will expand if he ever hears those words.
aidan
I roll over in bed and rub a hand over my dry, gritty eyes. I’m normally up shortly after dawn to go for a run on the beach. This morning, I know it’s much later as the room is fully awash in sunlight. Needing another five minutes before I rise, I turn onto my stomach and grab a pillow to tuck under my head. That’s when it hits me. I bolt upright and look around the room. Her scent is all around me, but I know instinctively she’s gone. The house has its usual vacant feeling.
I flop backward and think of the previous night. My cock hardens and the sheet tents as I remember driving into her tight, wet pussy. If she were here now, she’d be riding me while I fucked her into oblivion, but she’s not. So this is how it feels to be a one-night stand. Kara seems determined to give me more firsts in twenty-four hours than I’ve had in years. She picked me up, tossed out all kinds of veiled insults about my sexual prowess, and now, she’s taken off without a word. Fuck, man up, Spencer. Am I actually lying here wallowing in pity because she didn’t say goodbye? I should be relieved. A sleepover was weird enough, but did I actually want her to hang around the next morning? Maybe have breakfast and spend the day together? Hell no! She saved us both some awkwardness. Granted, I wouldn’t be averse to her handling this near painful case of morning wood, but isn’t that a big reason God gave us hands? I toss the pillow containing her scent onto the floor and get up. I make quick work of stripping the sheets and tossing them in the corner with the pillow. I’ll wash them later so I’m not reminded of her tonight.
Even though I call myself all kinds of pussy, I still walk through the house to confirm she is indeed gone, and I try my best to ignore the feeling of disappointment. Shit, maybe it is time to go home. I’m obviously more in need of human contact than I thought. Maybe I’ll email Luc later on to check in. We haven’t been apart this long since we met and it’s doing a number on me. I miss my best friend, and I’m beginning to realize that I’m reaching the point where I need the people I love to complete the healing process.
I shrug off my melancholy and go about my usual morning routine—just a little later than usual. By the time I’ve run five miles, showered, and had lunch, I’m feeling much more like myself. If not for her lingering fragrance, I could almost pretend Kara Jacks never crashed into my world the previous night. Almost.
3
Kara
What are you doing? Leave now before he sees you. My subconscious continues to beg and plead for me to see reason as I approach Aidan’s house. It’s already after seven in the evening so he likely isn’t even at home. I’ll knock once, and if he doesn’t answer, I’ll leave. I glance down and cringe at the bag I’m carrying. I stopped by the store on my way and bought a bottle of wine, a couple of steaks, and a bag of potatoes. Not only am I showing up unannounced, but I'm bringing dinner as well. How pathetically hopeful. This would give him enough material to crack jokes at my expense for days. That is, if he doesn’t just flat out tell me to go away.
And dammit, I’m dressed in skimpy shorts and a tank top. I might as well be holding a sign that says, “Please fuck me again, you stud.” It’s not as if he came looking for me today. Obviously, he had no intentions of an encore performance. Even knowing all of this, I still raise my hand and rap it against the wooden door. My heart is beating frantically in my chest, and I feel just a tad lightheaded. Shit, what is wrong with me?
I’ve almost convinced myself to flee while I can when the door opens, and Aidan stands before me looking more than a little surprised. He recovers quickly, and his lips quirk in amusement as he settles against the doorframe. “Well, hello, princess. To what do I owe this honor?” Before I can answer, the ass actually wiggles his brows and smirks at me. “Couldn’t stay away from my big dick, could you?” He steps out of the doorway and tosses an arm over my shoulders before lowering his voice. “It’s understandable so no need to be embarrassed. You obviously haven’t had a good fuck in years and last night rocked your world.” My mouth is flapping open and closed as I sputter for a scalding reply. He points at the bag dangling limply from my fingers. “Whatcha got in there? Some lube so we can visit the ole forbidden door tonight?”
Thank God I snap out of my daze and poke him in the side with my elbow. “You’re so damn full of yourself, aren’t you?”
He throws his head back and laughs. “I hate to point this out, princess, but you’re the one who came to me. And considering you begged for my cock mere hours ago, I can only assume you’re back for more.”
Why does he keep calling me princess? Probably so he won’t fuck up and call me by the wrong name. Typical ass. I narrow my eyes as I glare at him. Then apparently, I lose my mind right along with him because I begin giggling. He’s so outrageous that it’s impossible to remain immune to his crude humor. “You’re so full of crap, Spencer,” I say as I shrug off his arm and walk into the house. I hear his footsteps behind me, but I continue a bit farther until I’m forced to ask, “Where’s the kitchen?” He actually puts a hand on my ass and guides me down the hallway and into a modern kitchen that would no doubt be a chef’s dream. There’s stainless steel and granite galore. In addition, a wall of windows provides a breathtaking view of the ocean. Uncle Lee’s house is amazing, but this one has warmth. “Not bad,” I admit before setting my bag on the counter. I pull the steaks out and wave them in front of his face. “Do you know how to use a grill or am I going to be forced to do everything?”
He gives me a lazy grin, letting me know I’ve walked right into some type of verbal trap. “I’ve got the meat covered, princess. I’ll make it so good for you that you’ll be begging me for it.”
Shaking my head, I smile despite myself. “You’re such a pig. I can’t imagine why you’re home by yourself tonight. I’m sure somewhere out there is a dim-witted woman who would love to spend the evening with you. You might have to keep the insults simple—you know, nothing over four letters. Of course, that’s pretty much your limit as well, isn’t it?” I’m busy looking through the drawers for a wine cork so I don’t see him move until he’s wrapped his arms around me from behind and pulled me against his chest.
“Shhh,” he whispers into my hair. “There’s no need for all that jealousy, baby. I’ll tie you to my bed tonight and fuck you so good you’ll be purring like the pretty little pussy I know you are in no time. Now, put those claws away and just enjoy the moment.”
“God, you’re insufferable,” I grumble but don’t move away as he kisses his way down my neck. I feel him harden against my ass, and I’m ready to toss dinner aside and get to the entertainment portio
n of the evening. I have no idea what this man has done to me, but he seems to have a direct line to my clit. I’m wet and ready just from a little light petting, which is completely out of character for me. As if he knows what I’m thinking, one hand moves around to my front and wedges its way into the top of my skintight shorts. He groans when his fingers slip easily through my sex.
“Looks like someone needs some attention,” he murmurs as he begins to stroke my traitorous flesh. I moan. Why can’t I resist him? I’ve been with men who actually brought me flowers and begged to see me again. Yet I choose to chase this one? His ego is so big; I’m surprised anything else can fit in the house with it. Still, my panties are wet, and I’m panting like I’ve just run a marathon. All from a little dirty talk and his hand. When one of his thick fingers slides inside me—that’s it, I’m coming and moaning as if I’ve just had the best sexual experience of my life. He chuckles as he wrings every last drop of pleasure from me before calmly removing his hand. I’m almost certain he’s licking his fingers, but I’m still too frazzled to turn around and see. Then he throws my words from the previous night back at me. “I’m gonna admit, princess, I saw that lasting longer.” What a dickhead!
I push away from him. “Obviously, we both have control problems. I’ll work on mine if you do the same.”
“Nicely done,” he replies, not sounding offended in the least. It takes a very secure man to handle insults to his masculinity, and Aidan is certainly that. From my experience, he doesn’t have an equal between the sheets, and I’m quite certain he knows it.
We work in harmony as he prepares the steaks and I handle the potatoes. We decide to eat outside on the deck since the weather is fairly mild. Then almost as if we’ve done it for years instead of just a night, we end up in the bedroom and true to his earlier threat, using two T-shirts, he ties my hands to the headboard. I give him points for improvising to which he proudly informs me that he was a Boy Scout. He goes on to prove to me in great detail just how he earned his merit badges. I’m betting the troop leader would be horrified, but I say it gives new meaning to their logo, “Prepared for life.”
aidan
Once again, I’m lying in the dark with Kara curled in my arms. It wouldn’t be a lie to say tonight was one of the best evenings I’ve ever had with a woman. We joked around, picking on each other as we ate dinner and drank a bottle of wine. Then we walked on the beach before the sight of her in those tiny shorts made me so hard I practically dragged her inside, tied her up, and fucked her with everything I had. We grabbed a quick shower afterward, and without saying a word, she’d dropped her towel and crawled into the bed. Thankfully, her back was to me, and she didn’t see me standing uncertainly before finally getting in behind her. This time, she’d turned over and tossed an arm across my waist and her leg over the top of mine. I’ll admit that for a few moments, I was close to panic. I’m not one to cuddle. I don’t even know how really. I mean, I don’t immediately toss a woman from the bed and show her the door. Normally, I go straight for the shower, which gets them up and on their way afterward. They go home clean and happy, and I go to sleep—alone. Works well for everyone. Until Kara. She’s like the guest who came to dinner then never left. However, strangely enough, despite my moment of panic, I’m glad she’s here.
Being with her is easy. Hell, I don’t believe the shit that comes out of her mouth. She’s such a hard-ass. I love getting a rise out of her, and she never disappoints. At the same time, I feel guilty. I’ve stopped my brooding for a few days and have enjoyed myself with a woman. No matter how intimate it may seem, fucking can actually be very impersonal, even when you’re going down on a woman. I take care of her first and make sure she comes a respectable number of times before I find my own release. I’ve spent years perfecting my art, and I’m certain no woman has been left unsatisfied. It’s almost turned into something like orgasm production. I turn out an exceptional product and then send it on down the line. Yeah, I’m aware it makes me sound like a complete asshole, but as long as everyone gets what they need, is there truly a problem?
This friendship or whatever this is with Kara is different for me. I haven’t fallen instantly in love with her or anything, but it’s disturbing that Cassie has barely entered my mind since meeting Kara last night. In fact, most of those waking hours have been centered on fucking, sleeping with, or thinking of Kara. I guess maybe I should look at it in a positive way. It could be an indication that I’m ready to move on. Before Cassie died, I briefly considered if I was in love with the dream girl I considered her more than anything else. She, Lucian, and I were best friends for many years, and maybe that long-term friendship clouded my judgment. I blame myself for not being able to save her, but how long can that continue? I walked away from my whole life for damn near a year trying to resolve my feelings into something more manageable. Drinking copious amounts of alcohol and fucking every female who walked. On repeat. Alcohol helped to numb the pain, and the women filled some of those vulnerable night hours when I think too much.
A part of me wants to pack my stuff tomorrow and just drive. Leave this confusing whatever it is with Kara behind and decide if I’m ready to go home and return to my life. But even as I think that, she mutters something in her sleep and burrows closer to me. It’s insane because I can’t help but feel that I’m as much of a lifeline to her right now as she is becoming to me. I know very little about her other than she’s Lia’s cousin. I have no idea if she takes up with virtual strangers regularly or if she’s on the rebound from a bad relationship. Or could it be that she’s fucked up over something and trying to escape as well? I’m curious enough that I’m tempted to email Luc and ask about her, but I don’t feel comfortable invading her privacy in that way. Plus, like me, she may be here to escape from something and wouldn’t want everyone knowing where to find her. Although, she is using her uncle’s house so he at least knows.
I’ve lain awake in this bed every night for months trying to purge myself of the sorrow and guilt I feel over Cassie’s death. But with Kara here, I am almost at peace for the first time in so fucking long. I realize she’s not some kind of magic pill to cure my problems, but not feeling as if acid is eating away at my very soul is more of a relief than I could have imagined. I hadn’t realized how torturous the long nights were until I wasn’t staring at the clock and watching the minutes tick by so slowly. If she needs an escape as badly as I do and we can give that to each other, then why not? We’re consenting adults who have made no promises to each other. With my track record, I can’t say I won’t be ready to see the last of her tomorrow. But for now, she’s helping me burn through the hours, and I’m too selfish to let that go. It would be preferable if she didn’t have ties with Luc and Lia, but maybe that’s what draws me to her so much. She’s a piece of home after being adrift. If Luc kicks my ass at some point in the future, then hopefully it will have been worth it. Fuck, who am I kidding? The first night alone was worth it.
A quick glance at the bedside table shows an hour has passed, which I consider nothing short of a miracle. Even when she’s asleep, Kara still manages to occupy my mind easily. So I allow myself to relax and put my hand over hers where it rests on my stomach. Nothing is happening here but companionship. It could be that I’ve been wrong to avoid that in my life because this feels pretty damn good. Surrounded by her scent, I’m lulled to sleep with nothing more on my mind than what tomorrow will bring—with her.
4
Kara
My daily routine of going to Aidan’s in the evening has become familiar and addictive. It’s been two weeks since we met in that bar and I’ve spent every night since in his bed. After the first week, he started leaving the door either unlocked or hanging open, so I took that to mean I didn’t need to knock. Sometimes, we went out for dinner, but most of the time, we cooked together.
I had the uneasy feeling I was replacing my parents with him. People with anxiety or depression tend to have what is called a “safe person.” Basically, it’
s someone who makes you feel more secure and less anxious when you’re around them. The whole point of this time away was to regain my independence, but am I really doing that? Sure, I’m happier and more relaxed than I’ve been in months. I could literally go hours without thinking about cancer, which is a big step in the right direction. What happens when this is over? Eventually, both of us will return home and probably not together. He isn’t whispering words of love and long-term plans in my ear each night as he fucks me senseless. This is commonly referred to as a summer fling. What will become of me at the end of it if I’m indeed transferring my dependence onto him?
I am still mulling that disturbing question over in my mind when I arrive at his door to find a note stuck to it. On the beach. Come on down, beautiful. And there it is, something I never expected to feel for him: a big case of the warm fuzzies. He doesn’t owe me anything. I’m not his girlfriend, and we never made official plans. But he lets me know where he is and asks me to join him. Therefore, I walk around the front and look around the mostly deserted beach until I finally spot him striding out of the ocean—with a woman. She is blonde and scantily clad in a swimsuit that is no more than tiny scraps of cloth held together by equally small strings. I instantly hate her. I stalk across the warm sand before realizing I’m jealous and doing nothing to hide it. Thankfully, Aidan has yet to notice me so I take a moment to regroup. I need to get it together. I can’t let him see that the other woman bothers me. We are both free to see other people. I may want to order the bimbo to take a hike, but I have no rights at all where he is concerned. Is he testing me? He’ll probably be amused by such a display from me, and dammit, I’m not going to give him the pleasure of watching me have a tantrum over him. So I plaster on a bright smile—that I am far from feeling—and proceed forward. When I’m a few feet away, he looks away from beach Barbie and spots me.