“I was kind of hoping you’d offer,” he says, laughing as he mirrors my words.
I take over the kitchen again, finding fresh ground meat in the refrigerator and an open pack of hamburger buns on the counter. I recalled seeing pasta and canned tomatoes in the pantry last time, and when I find those, I decide to make spaghetti. I make a meat sauce for the pasta and toast the buns with butter and garlic powder.
It might be an even simpler meal than the omelets, but again both men act like I’ve served them a Sunday dinner that I slaved over for hours. “This is delicious, Amber,” Aidan’s dad tells me. “Superlative, in fact.” Their response makes me want to cook something for them that’s actually impressive.
There’s something sexy about watching Aidan enjoy food I’ve prepared for him, too. Of course, everything Aidan does is sexy, so … yeah.
After we eat, Mr. Holt says he’ll clean up so that we can get started on studying, and Aidan leads me down the hall to his bedroom. Once we’re inside his small room, he closes the door behind him, and I draw in a breath.
I want to look all around his space, to see what he has on his walls and desk, to find more clues about what’s important to him. I notice a Black Keys poster, a bookshelf, and a soccer ball in the corner, but as soon as the door closes and we’re alone, I can’t look away from him.
He seems bigger in this enclosed space. With his dark head framed against the white background of his door, he stares back at me. He raises an eyebrow and turns his mouth up into that wicked grin. “What?” he says, sounding on the verge of laughter.
I know I’m looking at him with wide eyes, and I can’t help it. “Nothing,” I say, smiling back at him.
“You look pretty excited to get started studying,” he says.
“Oh, I am,” I say. My eyes drop to his lips, then to his chest, broad in a baby blue t-shirt. My gaze drops lower to his lean hips, snug in dark jeans. I can’t believe I’m thinking the thoughts I am, with Aidan’s dad right in the other room, but I can’t help it. I want to touch him.
Aidan clears his throat and I pull my eyes back up to his. “Ms. Paulson. I take my tutoring responsibilities very seriously, and I think you need to get your mind back onto chemistry.”
I give him a playful pout, and Aidan quickly closes the space between us. He kisses me softly and then pulls back. “The test is important. Let’s make sure you’re ready.” His voice is soft and deep, and does things to my body that make it very hard for me to think about school at all.
With an effort, I say, “Okay, you’re right.” I pull out my notes and my tablet and we settle onto Aidan’s bed to study. On his bed. It takes several long minutes before I manage to forget my surroundings and focus on the lessons.
He takes the lead, quizzing me on all the things I need to have memorized, and I answer all of his questions correctly. Then we work on equations, and find a few weak spots. Aidan gives me more tips, we practice some more, and then review everything all over again.
Eventually the formulas start to blur, and Aidan, next to me on the bed, comes into sharper focus.
“How do you calculate molar mass?” he asks.
All I can think about is his leg pressed against mine. “I want to calculate your mass,” I whisper, putting my hand on his thigh.
His eyes darken and his face grows more serious. He gets up and silently twists the lock on his door, then he lies on the bed on his back, pulling me down with him. I nestle in beside him as we kiss, and though we’ve kissed many times now, being horizontal, on his bed, all alone, takes it to a whole new level. I’m instantly breathless with longing, hyper aware of the length of his body pressed against the entire length of mine.
I wrap my arm around his chest, and as we kiss, I slowly move my hand lower, skimming across his flat stomach before I fumble around in search of the snap on his jeans. Aidan groans quietly as my fingers touch the bare skin at his waist, then I feel his hand come down to help me.
I lay my head on his chest and watch as he unzips and frees himself. His room is brightly lit, and I’m glad he can’t see my face because I’m sure my eyes go wide at the sight of him. I’ve seen cocks before, of course, but Aidan’s just looks so big.
He pushes his jeans and underwear down on his hips, and wraps his hand around his cock, aiming it toward the ceiling. He runs his palm down the length of it, and I watch it grow at his touch. It’s long and thick, and beautiful.
I wrap my hand around it, just below Aidan’s, and he puts his hand over mine. Squeezing my hand gently, he guides me in a slow stroke of his cock.
“Hang on a minute,” he whispers. He stretches his other arm out to his nightstand drawer and pulls out a small bottle of lubricant. My heart beats even faster at the sight of it, and my mind floods with questions about what kind of experience he’s had, and how he’s used the lube.
His hand still on mine, he moves my palm into a position to receive a drizzle of the silky substance. Then Aidan stretches both of his arms overhead, makes himself comfortable, and leaves me to explore him on my own.
I wrap my hand around him again and slide my palm up and down. The skin on his cock feels so soft, and beneath the smooth surface he’s so hard. The contrast is fascinating and exciting. I grip him more firmly, remembering how he’d done it, and I gradually start to move faster, stretching out the full length of him, and slipping my hand from the shaft, over the head and back.
Aidan sucks in a breath and I take that as a good sign that I’m doing something right. I increase my speed a little more, and soon I feel his body tense beneath me. He reaches down and wraps his hand around mine again, this time aiming his cock away from us, and I watch in fascination as he starts to come, the ribbons of his climax spurting onto his shirt and the bed beside him.
My palm is still around him as he softens slightly, and when I move my hand away, he quivers as if he’s now sensitive to my touch.
“Let me clean up,” he whispers. He rolls onto his side, sits up and pulls his t-shirt off, giving me a gorgeous view of his well-defined back. The tattoo on his arm stretches around his shoulder, and when he turns toward me I see that the ink I’ve caught glimpses of is a dragon that wraps around his arm and breathes fire onto his chest.
It’s so appropriate, because just looking at his bare torso has me nearly burning up in flames. I want to wrap myself around him just like that dragon and explore every inch of him.
Aidan crawls back up on the bed beside me and I still can’t take my eyes off his gorgeous body. He’s tucked his cock away and pulled his pants back up, but his cut abs and muscular chest fight for my attention. How does one man get to be so damn good looking?
He kisses me, and it feels so intimate after what we’ve just shared. “Now let me take care of you,” he says, then lays a line of kisses along my jaw.
“I should go,” I say, though it takes all of my willpower to utter the words. “I have another final tomorrow before chemistry, and I haven’t done much for it yet.”
“Just give me a few more minutes. I’ll work fast.” He nuzzles a path down my neck, and I couldn’t argue with him even if I wanted to.
While his trail of kisses travels lower on my neck, down to my collarbone, he slips his hand inside my shirt and pushes the cup of my bra aside, and then his mouth is on my breast, pulling at my nipple. I nearly forget where we are and cry out, it feels so good.
Of course, his lips and tongue, so good at kissing and licking my pussy last time I was here, do amazing things to my breasts, bringing out sensations I hadn’t imagined possible. I’m instantly flooded with wetness as Aidan’s dark head works over my chest.
He slides a hand down across my stomach and expertly opens my jeans. But he doesn’t bother to remove them; he slips a hand inside my underwear and suddenly his finger is on my clit, pressing, circling, making me arch my body beneath him, toes curled.
Faster than I’d have thought possible, I’m overwhelmed. His wet mouth on my hard nipples, his long fingers dancing a
cross my slick pussy, his shirtless body pressed against mine, his dark head bent over me.
“Aidan,” I call out, quietly but urgently. “Oh my god.” My body starts to quiver beneath him as the waves of pleasure overtake me. He cups his hand over my sex, pressing his fingers into my folds as I come. He flicks the tip of his tongue rapidly over one of my nipples, drawing out more feeling, extending the strength of my orgasm to nearly unbearable pleasure.
“Oh god, oh Aidan.” I run out of breath and words as I let it overtake me.
When I open my eyes, after realizing they were squeezed tightly shut, Aidan is smiling over me. God, what a beautiful sight.
“I love making you come,” he says.
Such a beautiful man, and so generous. I’ve heard other girls complain about their boyfriends taking more than giving, but with Aidan the reverse is true.
“I love it too,” I say. “But I need to catch up.”
He kisses me and then flashes that sexy grin of his. “You can try, but I bet I can stay ahead of you.”
I want to laugh out loud. Happiness nearly overflows inside me at the thought of Aidan and I having an ongoing “contest” to give each other pleasure. His words, his actions, even just the way he looks at me, have me feeling for the first time that the two of us could be together, like a real couple. In this moment, it doesn’t seem strange or impossible. It feels right.
While I get my clothes back in place and pack up my things, Aidan puts on a clean shirt. We go out past the living room where I say goodnight to his dad, and wonder if Mr. Holt notices that Aidan’s wearing different clothes.
Aidan walks me out onto the porch and kisses me again, a long, tender kiss that makes me wish we could go back inside his bedroom and spend all night together.
As if reading my mind, he whispers, “I wish you didn’t have to go.”
Suddenly I’m too emotional for words, my mind filled with thoughts of sharing Aidan’s bed with him all night, sleeping in his arms, waking up with him. So instead of speaking, I circle my arms around him more tightly and try to convey my feelings with my kiss.
My lips are swollen when we finally break apart, my body heavy with want. “I’ll talk to you soon,” I say, my voice husky.
“Let me know how your test goes,” he says. “If you finish early—”
I laugh out loud.
He grins and says, “We’ll be playing at Buzzkill.”
“I’ll let you know,” I say. “Night.”
“Goodnight, Amber.”
Unable to resist, I steal one more quick kiss from him before I leave. It’s still light out; the nights are getting longer, and when I wave to him from the sidewalk, I can see him smiling back at me.
When I get to the turn that will take me out of sight, I look back a final time and he’s still there on the porch, watching me. A flood of happiness carries me home the rest of the way.
27
Amber
My sleep is restless that night. Images of Aidan fill my dreams, and the more explicit ones — Aidan bent over my chest, Aidan stretched out on his bed, Aidan reaching into his jeans — have me tossing and turning in my bed, filled with a not-unpleasant frustration. At one point I wake up and realize I was dreaming about his hard cock, and I don’t mind missing out on some sleep, even with finals the next day.
It’s early when I finally give up trying to rest. I get ready quietly so I don’t disturb Megan, and slip out to go to the library to prep for my first final. It’s an easy class, oral communication, and I breeze through my presentation later that morning, leaving me with several hours to drill for chemistry.
I’d been feeling confident last night, but as I start to review, my nerves take over. There’s so much riding on this one test, and what if there’s something on it that I somehow haven’t covered? What if I mix up some of the formulas or forget a couple of the million things I’ve had to memorize?
I’m not sure of Aidan’s schedule today, but I decide to take a chance and text him: I’m nervous about my final.
I don’t hear from him right away; he may be in the middle of a test himself. But after about twenty minutes his reply buzzes in: You’ve got this. You’re going to do great.
You think so?
Of course. Look at what a great tutor you’ve had.
I smile and feel my nerves lighten a little.
Another text pops up: I have a tip for you.
Yes?
Don't trust atoms. They make up everything.
I reply: Groan, and Aidan sends over a smiley face.
Seriously, you’ve got this.
Okay, thanks.
I get back into studying, and an hour later I hear from Aidan again: What do you do with a sick chemist?
I don’t know. What?
If you can't helium, and you can't curium, then you might as well barium.
Did you ever think of giving up singing to be a comedian?
I usually only tell jokes in the shower.
Mmm. A vision of Aidan in the shower temporarily pushes the chemical equations from my mind. I allow myself to savor the image for a few moments before I dutifully return to my studies.
Mid-afternoon, Aidan texts again: Have you heard the one about a chemist who was reading a book about helium?
No…
He just couldn't put it down.
His jokes are so lame, and it’s beyond sweet that he’s thinking of me throughout the day. I can’t keep a huge grin from spreading across my face.
Thank you for helping me not to be so nervous, I write.
You’re welcome. I can help you de-stress after the test too. I have special methods for that…
I’ll bet you do.
The smile on my face is joined by reddened cheeks.
Just before the test, I hear from Aidan again. I saved my best for last. Are you ready?
As I’ll ever be.
Where and how frequently do chemistry students have sex?
Hmmmm.
On the table, periodically.
I respond as I make my way into the classroom. That was your best joke, huh?
It sounds like you don’t appreciate my humor.
I actually do appreciate it a lot.
I’m about to do a sound check. Good luck. You’re going to do great. See you later?
Have a good show!
I slide into a desk and take a deep breath. My palms are sweating so I try to focus on the jokes Aidan sent throughout the day, replaying them in my mind like a stress-busting litany.
The test is grueling, but I keep calm by taking deep breaths whenever I start to feel panicky, and I get through it. By the end, I feel pretty good about it. There weren’t any moments where I felt completely lost and had no idea how to solve a problem. There were a few spots when I wasn’t positive I was remembering something correctly, but overall I think I did all right. I do know I couldn’t have worked harder or been more prepared.
When I leave the classroom, I pull out my phone to text Aidan, but before I can compose a message, I run, almost literally, into Megan’s friend Eric. I can tell he wasn’t just passing by; he’s waiting for me. His expression is heavy, and I’m startled to see him.
“Eric? What’s up? Is Megan okay?”
“Can I talk to you?”
“Yeah, what’s going on?”
“Megan’s fine. It’s just … can I buy you a coffee?”
“Yeah, of course.” The wave of panic I’d felt at Eric’s unexpected appearance passes, but I’m still concerned about why he wants to talk to me. He looks serious and uncomfortable, not his usual easygoing self.
We make awkward small talk about our finals as we head over to BFOC, which is the closest spot serving coffee at this hour. The place isn’t very crowded tonight. People who have tests tomorrow are probably home studying, and those who are done are most likely partying at places that serve alcohol.
I was about to text Aidan, but he’s probably still on stage, and I don’t expect to be long with Eric,
so I decide that can wait.
Eric and I get settled in a booth by the front window and I wait for him to take a few sips of his drink. Megan told me he’s been acting weird. It looks like I might be about to find out what’s going on.
28
Aidan
I check my phone as soon as our set is done, but there are no messages from Amber. She’s got to be done with her final by now, and I hope it’s not a bad sign about how the test went that she hasn’t been in touch.
Thinking about the “stress relief” I promised her, I decide to cut out early, rather than waiting for the other guys. I think if I make my exit quickly enough, I can slip away, but that doesn’t work out.
There’s already a fan at the back door, just one, a girl I’ve seen at other shows.
“Aidan, great show!” she says.
“Thanks. Thanks for coming out,” I say. She’s about my age, pretty. I remember her telling me she goes to school here too. I don’t see her looking for an autograph, so I start to move by her, but she grabs my arm.
“What’s your rush?” she says, taking my hand in hers. “Do you want to get a drink?”
“No, I can’t. Thanks, though.”
“We could go to my place, and relax,” she says, looking up into my eyes, squeezing my hand in hers.
A few weeks ago, I’d have probably gone. I could definitely stand to blow off some steam after finals, and getting laid always feels great after a show. It’s been a while, too, and handjobs aren’t nearly enough.
But I know I can’t. I don’t even want to.
“I can’t. Not tonight. I have plans.” The girl’s face crumbles, and she drops my hand like it’s on fire. I feel terrible. “Hey, it’s okay,” I say. “I really do have plans.”
She’s embarrassed, but tries to shrug it off. “Everybody says you’re a player, so it must be me, right?”
SPARKED: A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance (With bonus book, PERFECT) Page 9
