“Great. Thanks.” She touches his arm again, and it feels like she’s claiming him. “See you later.” She glances at me again as she walks away.
We continue on our way and after a few steps, Aidan says, “So, finance and marketing — that sounds like a good combination.”
With no further mention of Sasha, he just picks up with our conversation where we left off, but I’m distracted. I know I have no claim to him, but I find myself hoping that he’ll tell me the attention from these women doesn’t mean anything. Though I’m not sure I’d believe him anyway.
This little stroll across campus has forcefully reminded me that he’s the guy every girl wants — and that the reverse is definitely not true. I have never been the girl every guy wants.
Instead, I’ve always been the hardworking, slightly nerdy girl the popular guys ignore. I’m the virgin who puts schoolwork before activities that other girls consider fun. So whatever flirtation’s been going on with Aidan, I shouldn’t forget that we’re not equals in it. He can have anyone he wants — why the hell would he want me?
Chapter 16
Amber
Aidan’s house is in the middle of a quiet residential street. It’s single story with a neatly trimmed lawn; a very nice but average house. What had I been expecting? The Playboy mansion where he would entertain his groupies?
As we enter I’m struck by how spare the furnishings are. The walls are mostly bare; there are no plants or pictures around.
“Just you and your dad live here?” I ask.
“Yeah, my parents are divorced. My mom lives on the other side of the country.”
There’s an edge to his voice, and I decide it’s probably best not to ask more about the subject.
Aidan leads me past the living room and into a small dining room area, where we settle in to study. I’m feeling a pull between us, a not unpleasant feeling of sexual tension, now that we’re alone in close quarters.
We’re sitting close together, the house is quiet … I imagine him kissing me and curse myself for how much I’m wanting that to happen right now.
As much as I’ve tried to listen to the sensible part of my brain, I’ve been drawn in, and as I sneak glances at Aidan’s strong, tattooed forearm resting close to mine, I realize I couldn’t care less about my chemistry grade right now.
For better or worse, though, he is all business.
“Did you have class yet?” he asks, his chocolate brown eyes fixed on me.
God, why does he have to be so good looking?
“No, it’s tomorrow evening.”
“All right. Where did we leave off?”
We left off with you pushing me up against the wall, I think, but I dutifully find our place.
“Okay, let me see you balance this one,” Aidan says, pointing to an equation with oxygen, hydrogen, and I don’t know what else in it.
I remember to start by looking for the unbalanced elements first, and I make the needed adjustments, but then I get stuck. I might actually be able to do this one if I was alone, but I keep being distracted by how close Aidan is sitting.
“What’s next?” he asks. “The hydrogen, right?” He’s patient as I eventually manage to finish the problem and move on to the next one.
“Don’t forget the physical states,” he prompts.
I’m trying very hard to forget his physical state — hot — and my physical state — bothered, but I’m finding it impossible. He’s referring to solids and gases though, so I go back and make the required notations.
I make a few errors and Aidan puts his hand on mine, nearly making me jump from the way his touch lights up my nerve endings.
“Relax, Amber. You’ll get it.” He thinks it’s the subject matter that has me tense, and I’m happy to let him believe that. I was the one who said our study sessions needed to be all business, after all.
He tilts his head adorably and smiles at me.
“Hey, did you hear the one about a proton and a neutron walking down the street?”
I shake my head.
“The proton says, ‘Wait, I dropped an electron. Help me look for it.’ The neutron says ‘Are you sure?’ and the proton replies…” Aidan pauses for effect before continuing, “‘I’m positive.’”
I groan and roll my eyes, but I’m smiling as I add corny joke telling to the growing list of Aidan’s unexpectedly adorable qualities. The more I learn about him, the more I like him. It makes me wonder: am I kidding myself to think he’s more than a player, or is it the wary side of me that’s wrong about him?
The lame joke serves its purpose, though. It cuts the tension and clears my head, and I finally manage to focus on what he’s trying to teach me.
Aidan reviews some of the things we went over on Monday and builds from there. He gives me new tips and has me work through several problems. The sheer amount of material I have to memorize is still daunting, but with his help it’s starting to come together. I actually manage to balance several equations on my own.
“See, I told you you’d get it. That’s perfect,” Aidan says, smiling in a way that is probably supposed to be motivational but is very distracting. “Now I think I should test you on the section on measurements and ions.”
“Do you have to?” I ask, not feeling very confident that I’m going to get the answers.
“Come on. It’ll help me understand where you might need additional focus.”
I knuckle down and try to answer all the questions as best I can. When he’s marked my work, Aidan lays down his pen.
Just that, and the way his expression changes, have me heating up faster than a match that’s just been struck. And then he says, “It’s time for some well-earned R&R.”
My heart starts working overtime. Does he want to take me to his bedroom? Should I go if he does?
I want him — I can’t help wanting him — but I don’t know if I’m ready for everything he may have in mind.
Still seated next to me, Aidan brushes my hair aside and pulls me toward him as he leans in. He doesn’t kiss me; instead he rests his forehead against mine and gently rubs my neck.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice soft and sexy and low.
“Hmmmm,” is the reply I manage. I’m feeling amazing now that he’s touching me again.
“How are you feeling about your chemistry?”
Oh that. “Good,” I say, thrilling to the heat of his skin against mine, distracted by how close his mouth is. “You’re a really good teacher.”
Aidan lifts my face to his and softly brushes his lips to mine. His touch is so tender and gentle that it catches me off guard. I’ve been fighting lust all afternoon, but his movements seem filled with care, as if I’m delicate, or as if he’s holding back.
When he kisses me again, I claim his lips and increase the intensity; I can’t help myself. I’m relieved when he matches me and starts to kiss me longer and deeper.
He pulls me to him and I find myself on his lap, straddling him as we tangle together, mouth and hands moving more hungrily. His body is all strong angles under mine and I take the opportunity to explore the muscles in his back and run my hands through his soft, messy hair while we kiss.
Aidan runs his hands along my sides, his thumbs reaching up just under my breasts before sliding back down to my waist. He trails a finger on my bare skin above the waistband of my jeans as he says, “Would you like to know what else I’m good at?”
My breathing is verging on ragged as I reply. “Debate team? Tax law?” As I tease him with my guesses, he teases my skin with his fingers, digging in gently to tickle my side. I squirm in his lap and it only serves to make me hotter for him. “Oh, I know, marching band.” I twist away from his grasp, only to end up closer and more entangled with him.
“Funny girl,” he says, pulling me into his intensely dark gaze. “Would you like me to show you?” His hand comes to rest on the snap of my jeans, and I draw in a deep breath, going lightheaded as I stare back at him.
Should
n’t my sensible side, the part that tries to keep me from being hurt by making impulsive decisions, at least make an appearance in a moment like this? But it’s nowhere to be found. Yes, yes, yes, screams the rest of me, including every part of my body.
Aidan holds my gaze and waits for the small nod I give. Then his eyes flash and his smile turns wicked. My cheeks flush with heat as I look down and watch him open the snap with a slow, deliberate movement.
I’m still holding my breath and time seems to stand still as he draws down my zipper.
“Right here?” I manage to say. “What about your dad?”
“He won’t be home until later.”
Ohmygod, are we going to have sex in Aidan’s dining room? This is not how I’d imagined things going, but, as Megan said, surely Aidan knows what he’s doing.
He lifts me off his lap and to a standing position where he finishes lowering my zipper. Then his warm hands circle the bare skin of my hips as he reaches inside my clothing and starts to push my underwear and pants down together, still moving at his unhurried pace.
As his hands move lower, he kicks the chair out of his way and kneels before me, his face just inches from my now exposed lower half. I bite my lip, try to still my breathing, and fight feelings of self-consciousness at all that he’s about to see and do.
He’s not focused on my pussy though; he’s still lowering my pants as he slowly kisses a path down along my inner thighs and to my calves. The sensations are all so new; his hot mouth is kissing me in places I’ve never been kissed. And though they’re not my most intimate places, sparks are flying from his every touch, sending impulses throughout my body, especially to the area quickly growing wetter between my legs.
As he nears my ankles, I reach behind me to hold the table for support, my hands between my ass and the table’s edge. Aidan lifts one foot free of my collapsed clothing, and then the other, as he kneels at my feet. He looks up at me then, and the look in his eyes — if I could freeze one moment in time, it would be this one.
The heat, the intensity, the certainty on his face make me feel desired in a way I had never expected. I want to burn this feeling into my memory forever.
And then, ohmygod, he starts working his way back up my legs, just as slowly as his downward path had been.
His hands stroke my calves while he lays kisses on the insides of my knees, alternating sides. I find myself moving my legs part to give him better access, and can’t believe that I’m doing it. Modesty and self-conscious concerns melt away with each touch of his mouth.
My head tilts back as I surrender to him, my eyes closing as I savor the sensations running from my legs down to my toes and back up to the top of my head. But when I feel his lips pass my knees and start moving upward on my inner thighs, I look down, because I want to see.
Aidan lifts one of my legs and drapes it over his shoulder, then begins to worship the tender skin on my thighs like he has the next eternity to do this and nothing else. He brushes his lips over me, takes little bites that make me gasp, then sucks those tiny hurts into his mouth, simultaneously soothing and inflaming me.
He has a day’s growth of stubble on his face and uses it to delicious effect, rubbing against my thighs, claiming me as his own. He was definitely telling the truth: He is very, very — ohmygod — so very good at this.
My pussy, still a few inches away from Aidan’s focus, feels as if it’s been liquefied. I am so hot and wet and so turned on, I am aching for him to do more to me, though I don’t want him to stop everything that he’s doing right now.
Just as he reaches the apex of my thighs, he looks up at me, and the moment we make eye contact is nearly my undoing. I groan from the amazing, frustrating pleasure of seeing his devastatingly beautiful face between my legs, ready to continue to his goal.
He flashes his wicked trademark grin, just before he licks a line with the tip of his tongue where my leg meets my body. I’m utterly at his will, spread open before him, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
When his lips finally touch the folds of my pussy, I cry out, “Aidan—” It’s almost too much, but I want more and more. He lays kisses at my center, worshipping me with his mouth. He uses his hands to spread me open and finds my clit. I see stars as he tenderly sucks at my most delicate spot, and I fight to keep hold of the table, when what I want to do is dig my hands into his back and scream my pleasure.
He circles around my clit, swirling his tongue, taking me higher and higher. With no thought at all, I sway my hips toward his mouth, over and over, as the sensations build and rise, build and rise, and then I can’t hold back anymore.
Aidan grips me tightly and supports me as I let loose and surrender to the unbelievable bliss. Wave after wave rolls over my body, originating at the point where his mouth has made me his, and radiating outward in a way I’ve never felt before. It’s overwhelming and incredible. It’s perfect.
Chapter 17
Aidan
Damn, that was glorious. I know I’m good — plenty of women have told me so — but Amber’s pleasure is like a drug to me.
She exhales deeply as I lift her leg from my shoulder. “You think you’re good at that?” she says, and I love that she teases me while she’s still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm, still breathing hard, her face flushed.
I laugh. “Yeah, I do.” It strikes me that as much as I love sex, I’ve never enjoyed pleasuring a woman as much as I do Amber. Her responses seem to light me up from the inside out.
Standing up, I kiss her and pull her close so we’re chest to chest, our hips touching. Amber reaches between us and fumbles for the button on my jeans.
“My turn?” she says. She sounds a little breathless still, but also kind of uncertain. I’m all for blowjobs, but I don’t want her to feel obligated.
Her hand trembles as she tries to undo my pants, and I can’t help teasing her. “I thought you were a good girl, Amber.” From the look on her face, I may have hit a little too close to the mark.
Just as she starts to draw my zipper down, I hear the rumble of the garage door opening. “Shit! That’s my dad!”
I grab her panties and pants and help her get put back together in record time, then wipe my face and adjust myself in my pants, getting them buttoned again. We sit down at the table just in time.
“Aidan? You home?”
“In here, Dad,” I say, and give Amber a quick smile. She smooths her hair, still looking flustered.
My dad appears in the doorway, his eyebrows shooting up when he sees I’m not alone. I can’t blame him; I never bring girls home. “Hey Dad,” I say, “this is Amber.”
Chapter 18
Amber
Aidan’s dad doesn’t look much like his son. He’s nice looking, but in a much more ordinary way, with glasses and strands of silver in his hair. Aidan’s striking features must have come from his mom.
If Mr. Holt notices the “almost-got-caught” tension that must be pouring off of me, he doesn’t acknowledge it; but of course, what would he say?
“Nice to meet you, Amber,” is what he does say, and it sounds like he means it.
Mr. Holt goes into the kitchen, and I give Aidan a wide-eyed look to convey the panic that’s still racing through my body, even though the danger has passed. Aidan returns my look of surprise, but I see a hint of his wicked grin at the corners of his mouth.
“Should I go?” I whisper.
Aidan shakes his head at me as Mr. Holt calls out, “Are you guys hungry?” The older man is looking into the refrigerator, then the freezer, and the cupboards, but he’s not pulling anything out.
“We eat a lot of pizza,” Aidan says in a voice only I can hear. In a louder tone, he tells his father, “Yeah, we’ve worked up an appetite.” I give him a kick under the table to accompany my glare.
After another fruitless survey of the fridge, Mr. Holt turns toward us. “Amber, do you like pizza?” Aidan’s “I told you so” look makes it hard for me to keep a straight face.
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I suddenly get the ridiculous urge to cook for them, both of them. They may do okay, but they obviously need someone to take care of them in that department. I used to cook a lot at home, and I’ve gotten tired of eating nothing but cafeteria food and whatever I can prepare in my little dorm room microwave.
I don’t want to be presumptuous, but it would be nice to be able to do something nice for Aidan to thank him for his time spent tutoring me. And cooking would have the added benefit of keeping my mind off what just happened and almost-happened between us, so that my cheeks could possibly return to their normal color.
“I know how to cook,” I say, in a tentative voice.
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Mr. Holt says at the same time that Aidan says, “No, it’s okay, Amber.”
Despite their protests, the idea grows on me. “Really, I’d enjoy it,” I say. “And Aidan’s been doing me a favor helping me learn chemistry. I’d be glad to make dinner.”
Aidan and his dad exchange raised eyebrows and shrugs. “You’re welcome to the kitchen,” Aidan tells me, “but I don’t know if you’ll find actual food in there.”
I jump up and head in, now filled with curiosity as if I’m about to open a challenge basket on a Food Network reality show. Mr. Holt hastily exits the kitchen as I enter, so I root around freely and take an inventory of their ingredients and supplies.
The selection is meager, but I’m proud when the inspiration strikes to make omelets. I find salsa and cheese, bread for toast, and get started.
Aidan asks what he can do to help, and though the idea of cooking with him is very appealing, it’s not as if there are any ingredients to prep, like fresh vegetables to wash or slice, so I tell him he can clear and set the table.
Just mentioning the table makes me blush anew. I can feel my face getting hot again, and I’m glad I’m at the stove with my back turned.
When only ten minutes later I tell Aidan and his dad that dinner is ready, they both look at me as though I’ve performed some sort of magic.
Beast Brothers 2: An MFM Twin Ménage Romance Page 17
