by Lauren Rowe
He takes a deep breath behind me and says his next words on his exhale. “Holy fuck, I’m a lucky bastard.”
I sigh happily. “Good night.”
“Good night, little chicken. Amazing job tonight. This morning. Whatever. You kicked serious ass.”
I mumble something meant to be, “Thank you.”
“I’m in awe of you, Savvy. Completely blown away.”
They’re the last words I hear before I fall into blissful sleep.
Chapter Thirty-One
Savannah
Saturday, 4:23 p.m.
My stomach growls, and my eyes flutter open. The shower is running in the bathroom. Aiden’s side of the bed is empty. I slide out of bed and head into the bathroom and discover Aiden standing naked in the clear Plexiglas shower, looking like a wet dream. His eyes are closed. Water is pelting the top of his head. Plumes of steam are rising up around his perfect, hard, muscled body. He looks like a fantasy. A Greek god. I stand, gawking at him for a long moment—salivating at the way the soapy suds drift down his sleek skin and traverse every nook and cranny of his cut abs and then slide down the full length of his penis. Holy crap, that man definitely has a prison body. And that face! His face is even more beautiful to me now than when I first met him—now that I know his perfect, symmetrical features are nothing but a brochure for his beautiful heart.
When Aiden finishes rinsing his hair, he opens his startling blue eyes and discovers me staring at him from the doorway. A slow, sexy smile spreads across his handsome face. “Join me,” he says simply.
I don’t need to be asked twice.
When I enter the shower, Aiden reaches for me to kiss me, but I’ve got a different idea. Wordlessly, I kneel before him and, as hot water rains down on me, take his full length into my greedy mouth.
As his dick thickens in my mouth, Aiden exhales and runs his fingertips across my wet head. A minute later, as I get into a rhythm, he grabs fistfuls of my wet hair and begins gyrating into my mouth. When he moans loudly, excitement surges inside me. I begin touching myself with one hand while gripping the base of his shaft with the other.
When an orgasm grips me, I disengage from him with a loud pop, too overcome with pleasure to do anything but close my eyes and moan.
Even before I’ve finished climaxing, Aiden yanks me to standing and roughly turns me around. As hot water rains down on us, he pins me against the Plexiglas wall of the shower and spreads my legs roughly like he’s frisking me. I lay my palms flush against the slick surface, my body twitching and jolting with anticipation, my crotch throbbing with yearning.
As hot water cascades down my back, Aiden kneels down behind me and begins devouring every square inch of me. It’s something no man has ever done to me before—at least, not like this. With such a lack of inhibition. Such abandon. And the sensation of his tongue and lips and teeth in forbidden places sends me into complete overload. I come hard.
When my climax ends, Aiden rises and presses his lips against my ear. “I want to fuck you without a condom. I’m clean. I’ll pull out.”
“I’m on the pill,” I gasp out, hot water battering me. “Fuck me hard.”
With a loud groan, Aiden reaches between my legs to find his target and then plunges into me with breathtaking fervor. My palms resting on the Plexiglas of the shower for support, I spread my legs and take what he’s giving me. And what he’s giving me is beastly. Not gentle in the slightest. And I love it. When I come after a few minutes of getting pounded, it’s from muscles at my deepest core.
“Savvy,” Aiden blurts behind me as his body ripples and jolts. He presses his hard body against my back. “What are you doing to me?” He turns me around and cups my face in his palms and kisses me as hot water rains down on us. “I can’t believe what you did for me.”
We finish washing and dry off with fluffy white towels and then move into the room to get dressed.
“It blows my mind I only met you three days ago,” I say, rummaging through my small suitcase. “It feels like I’ve known you forever.”
“Well, how long does a typical date last in the real world? Three hours?”
“I have no idea,” I say. “I don’t think I’ve ever been on a ‘typical’ date. Not the way they show them in the movies, anyway.”
“Neither have I. But don’t normal people go out to dinner and a movie or something?”
“I think so. I don’t know.”
“Okay, my point is that we’ve spent so much time together these past three days, we’ve probably had the equivalent of ten or fifteen dates in the real world. You know, for normal people.”
“Who are these normal people going on dates?” I ask.
“I don’t know. You’re missing my point. I’m saying normal people go out on dates. And they don’t see each other every day when they’re first dating. They see each other maybe three times per week, I’d think. Maybe? So you could say we’ve been together the equivalent of five weeks.”
I chuckle.
“You’ve heard of dog years, right?” he says. “Well, we’ve had chicken years. We’ve been dating five weeks in chicken.”
I giggle. “Okay. Works for me.”
Aiden looks at the clock. “Hey, what time does the reunion start? You want to grab a bite beforehand or afterwards?”
I slide on my underwear. “I don’t care about going to the reunion. Let’s take five hundred bucks from our winnings and treat ourselves to a five-star meal and a show.”
Aiden shakes his head. “Hell no. We’re going to that reunion.”
“Why?” I say. “I couldn’t care less what Mason Crenshaw thinks about me.”
Aiden laughs. “We’re not going to the reunion for you. We’re going for me.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Aiden
I zip up the back of Savvy’s dress. “Sexy dress. Turn around. I want to get a good look at your hotness.”
Savvy complies, gracing me with a smile that stops my heart.
“You look incredible,” I say. And it’s the truth. She’s wearing a red dress that hugs her ample curves perfectly and sets off her shiny, dark hair.
“You look smokin’ hot yourself,” she says. “I love the shirt. Is that the one you bought when I was working on the algorithm?”
“Yeah, I ducked into a shop on the Strip right before I went to the storage room.”
“Oh, yeah. That reminds me. When can I hear the song you wrote?”
A flock of butterflies releases into my stomach. Shit. I haven’t written a song about a real girl since I was a teenager. Usually, when I write a song that could be classified as a “love song,” it’s about a fantasy girl. A perfect girl I make up in my head who couldn’t possibly exist in real life.
Savvy cocks her head to the side, apparently seeing something intriguing on my face. “What’s the song about?”
I swallow hard. “You.”
“Me? Oh, my gosh. When can I hear it?”
“The thing is, I don’t normally write songs on piano. I prefer writing on guitar. Why don’t I play it for you when we get to LA?”
“You truly think I’m going to wait that long to hear this song? Hell no. I want to hear that song right now.”
“Savvy, no. Seriously. I can’t sing it for you now.”
“But you wrote it on piano. I’m sure it sounds great.”
I pause. Shit. “At least let me get myself a little liquid courage before I play it for you.”
“Why? You’re an amazing musician. A professional. You play every week in front of strangers.”
“I’m not doubting my musicianship or songwriting skills. I’m nervous to play it for you because…” I feel my cheeks turning red. “Because the song is really personal.”
“Oh.”
I glance away from Savvy’s glowing face toward the big pile of cash sitting on the table. “We’d better put that money in the safe in the closet before we head out. A maid might come in, even if we put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door
.” I stride over to the money and begin gathering it, my heart racing. “Are you hungry? You want to grab food before the reunion or after?”
She joins me at the little table. “Will you promise to play the song after the reunion?”
I bite my lip. “Okay.”
“Then let’s go to the reunion now,” she says, grabbing her little purse off the bed. “We’ll go to the reunion, hit the storage room, get a fancy dinner, and then see a late-night show. Sound like a plan?”
“Sounds amazing.”
“Cool. How much of the cash should we spend on dinner and a show? What’s our budget?”
“It’s up to you,” I say. “This money is yours.”
Savvy and I begin walking toward the safe in the closet.
“No, the money is ours,” she says. “After we take the money for Betty off the top, the rest we’ll split fifty-fifty.”
“I’m getting what I need to buy back Betty. That’s all I could ever ask for.”
“But you need money to live on, Aiden. You wired your life’s savings to save your father.”
I sigh. She’s right. The truth is I desperately need money. But so does Savvy. “Yeah, but you lost your job,” I say. “You’ve got a condo.”
“I’ve already received four emails from recruiters asking me to interview for positions next week. I’m sure I’ll have a new job soon.”
“Wow. That’s awesome. Congratulations. But I’m not gonna take a handout from you. That money is yours. You earned it. I did nothing.”
She sighs. “Well, will you work for money, then?”
I shoot her a snarky look. “Babe, don’t even joke about that. My body isn’t for sale.”
Savvy giggles. “No, no. I’ve got a legitimate offer of employment. How about I take ten grand for myself—just in case a new job doesn’t materialize as fast as I think it will. And with the rest, I’ll pay you to help me renovate my condo. I’ll even throw in an untrained, unskilled laborer you can boss around during the renovation.”
“You’re serious?”
“Absolutely. I have a fixer-upper condo needing renovation. You work construction. Do you honestly think you could do a good job for me?”
Adrenaline floods me. “I know I could. I’d do an exceptional job for you.”
“Great. You’re hired.”
“Do you want me to sign a written contract? I will.”
Savvy rolls her eyes. “That won’t be necessary. I trust you.”
My heart leaps. “Okay. Thank you.”
“And I’m in no rush to get the work done, by the way,” Savvy says. “Just fit it in between music gigs. Oh, and you can stay at the condo overnight whenever you want, if doing that will make it easier to fit in gigs and work on the condo and have lots of sex with me.” She grins.
I can’t believe my ears. “You’re sure about this?”
“Aiden, I can honestly say I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”
Every molecule in my body electrifies. “Neither have I,” I say.
“Good. It’s settled, then. We’re totally doing this. We’re both all-in.”
I nod. “We sure as fuck are. Awesome.” I bite my lip. She’s never looked more beautiful to me than she does in this moment. “Now let’s go down to the bar, do some shots of tequila, and then head to the reunion. I want Mason Crenshaw to see the girl in the chicken suit grew up to become a swan.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Savannah
As Aiden and I walk toward the entrance of the ballroom where the reunion is being held, my phone buzzes with an incoming text from Kyle.
Are you at the reunion yet?
Heading there literally right now. Thirty
yards away from the front entrance.
“Hey, I’m gonna hit the bathroom before we head in,” Aiden says, indicating a restroom immediately to the right of the ballroom entrance.
“Okay. I’ll wait here.”
And off Aiden goes.
My phone buzzes again. I look down. It’s Kyle again.
Text me a secret photo of Mason C!
I want to see what he looks like now.
Only if I can do it without him
noticing. Wouldn’t want him
thinking I actually give a fuck.
I attach a barfing emoji to the end of my message, press send, and then quickly tap out a follow-up.
Hey did you ever look at
those videos I sent you?
What videos?
Aiden Jameson!
Who’s that?
THE MUSICIAN!
Oooooh. Shit. When you sent that text,
I was at a concert. Music too loud to watch the videos. And then I totally forgot. Sorry. I’m at a
concert now, but I promise to watch when I get
back to my hotel room. Forgive me?
I’ll forgive you if you promise
to watch the videos tonight!
Promise.
I open my clutch to stuff my phone inside when it buzzes with another text from Kyle.
OMG! You fucked the musician, didn’t you?
A huge smile on my face, I tap out a succinct reply.
Yes.
How? When? You found Derek
with that woman on Wednesday!
Correct. And then I went to a bar
and got drunk and met Aiden and
had sex with him that night.
NO FUCKING WAY!
And it was the best sex of my life.
BY FAR. And then it turned into sooo
much more than sex. OMG, Kyle. I have
so much to tell you! I’ll call you tomorrow
and tell you everything. In the meantime,
watch those damned videos!
Okay. Gonna take a peek now.
Too loud to hear him, but now
I have to see this guy.
“You ready?”
I look up. It’s Aiden.
“Yep.” I hold up my phone. “I was just texting with Kyle. Remember? My next-door neighbor best friend who took me to the Halloween party in high school? He was supposed to come to the reunion tonight, but he had to cancel at the last minute.”
My phone buzzes with an incoming text, and I look down.
Holy shit! He’s hot AF! OMFG!
You fucked HIM? You’re a
savage beast, Savage!
“Excuse me,” I say calmly to Aiden, my cheeks flooding with heat. “Just need to finish up this conversation before we head inside.”
“Take your time.”
“Thanks.”
I’ve been fucking him nonstop since
Wednesday! And I plan to continue
fucking him as much as humanly possible
for the foreseeable future. SO WATCH
THE DAMNED VIDEOS! You want
to discover amazing new music instead
of babysitting entitled rock stars? Well,
discover Aiden Jameson! PS He has zero
idea my best friend works for a record
label. This is all my idea. He’s not using
me, if that’s what you’re thinking.
Wasn’t thinking that at all.
You’re gorgeous. Smart. Funny.
If anything, you’re using him.
Duh. I’ll watch the videos tonight.
Love you. Have fun!
Thanks! Love you, too!
I shove my phone into my little velvet clutch and smile at Aiden. “Thanks for waiting.”
Aiden puts his arm out and I take it. “Come on, baby. Let’s bring Mason Crenshaw to his knees.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Savannah
The moment Aiden and I cross the threshold into the reunion, every fiber of my body screams at me to turn around and run away. What the hell am I doing here? I’ve got nothing to prove to these people, least of all Mason Crenshaw. I’d much rather be sitting at some Cirque Du Soleil show with Aiden or walking along the Strip with him than putting on
a show here. Actually, no. What I really want to be doing is sitting next to Aiden on a piano bench in a storage room, listening to him sing me that song he wrote about me. “Hang on,” I say, stopping just inside the double doors of the ballroom. “I think I’m having a panic attack.”
Aiden stops alongside me, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Let’s leave,” I say. “I’d so much rather—”
“Welcome, Wildcat!” a female voice sings out to us.
Trembling, I turn toward the voice to find none other than the most popular girl from school, Amanda Silvestri, walking toward us. She’s wearing a sparkly silver dress, sky-high heels, and a wide smile. And, man, she looks even more stunning than she did back in high school.
“Be sure to grab your nametags off the table!” Amanda says gaily, her blue eyes shifting from Aiden to me without a hint of recognition in them. Clearly, the girl doesn’t recognize me, which means she has no idea if it’s Aiden or me who’s the returning Wildcat. And I’m not surprised about that. I look quite a bit different than I did five years ago when I stood in front of my graduating class and gave the Valedictory speech. Plus, I’m guessing Amanda only became aware of my existence that very day—and that’s assuming she stayed awake through any portion of my speech. And I don’t blame her. Why would Amanda have known about me? For four years, she’d been busy doing whatever prom queens and class presidents do while I’d been busy hanging out with the nerd brigade and competing in mathalons. To put it mildly, our paths didn’t cross.
