by Nikki Chase
“Yes,” I sigh as Aiden rubs my hands over his bulge. Even through his jeans, I can feel how hard he is, and it excites me. I want that inside me. It’s the only thing that’s going to satisfy me now.
I hear the sound of Aiden’s jeans being unzipped. The couch shifts as he takes them off and drops them on the carpet.
My heart pounds. With my hands held behind me and my legs spread apart, I’m completely helpless. Aiden can do whatever he wants with me. The thought fills me with apprehension, but at the same time . . . excitement , too. I trust him not to hurt me.
“Get on your knees, princess.”
I gasp when Aiden’s cock brushes against my thigh. It’s hard and impossibly hot.
“Ready for me?” he asks, almost growling.
“Yes,” I say, sticking out my ass, begging him to fill me.
“Good,” he says as he aligns the head of his cock with my slick opening. “But I was going to do this, whether you were ready or not.” He thrusts forward and fills me completely.
“Fuck, princess, you’re so wet for me,” Aiden groans, letting go of my wrists to grab my waist. He pulls me onto his cock and grinds into me.
I whimper as my pussy muscles clench around him.
Aiden slides in and out of me, his hard cock rubbing my pussy walls in all the right places. He pushes my waist down, forcing me to arch my back, allowing him to get even deeper inside me.
I lose my breath, both from my own pleasured gasps and Aiden’s vigorous thrusting. I pant and gasp, too lost in our mating to remember to breathe.
Aiden lies flat on top of me, his chest hard and hot on my back. When he starts to kiss the back of my neck, I shudder, making him growl. “That felt so fucking good, when you shiver like that.”
I whimper as he bites me.
“Am I hurting you, princess?” he asks.
“No,” I moan. “I mean, yes. Yes, you are but I love it.”
“I’m going to leave a mark if I bite you any harder.”
“I don't care. Please, A, do it.”
Then, so encouraged, he bites the back of my neck, hard, like a lion would when he mates. The harder Aiden bites and the more painful it gets, the tighter my muscles clench around his cock.
He picks up his speed, slamming into me harder and faster. As his movements become more frantic, he wraps his arm around me, holding my neck in the crook of his elbow. He supports himself with his other hand on the couch as he rocks back and forth on top of me.
“Say you're mine,” Aiden growls in my ear.
“I’m yours,” I say in between moans.
“Good girl,” he says as he fucks me with abandon, slamming again and again inside me, impaling me with his thick, hard, pulsing cock. My body shakes, out of control, as I reach my peak. Aiden grunts at the final thrust as he pumps his hot cum inside me.
As he wraps his arms around me, his body relaxes, and he plants a sweet kiss on my temple. That’s the opposite of the dirty fucking we’ve just done, but it’s also the most appropriate thing for him to do at this moment.
“I love you,” he says.
“You always know exactly what to say and when.” I smile as I nuzzle into him. “I love you, too.”
We remain in this state of blissful unawareness for the rest of the night. Aiden stays over and sleeps like a baby until it’s time for us to go to work. After work, he comes home with me again.
And so, without much discussion or negotiation, we slip into shared domesticity.
I always thought living with a man would be difficult, but it’s surprisingly nice to wake up to Aiden, come home to Aiden, and fall asleep in Aiden’s arms.
After ten years of pining for him, I finally have him back and I can’t get enough of him. It feels like work and sleep are just obstacles I need to get through to get my next fix of Aiden.
As if it’s not enough that I get to spend virtually all my free time with the love of my life, there are other perks to living with Aiden, too. He’s great with house chores, having lived with his busy single mom previously. Some nights he even cooks for me.
Oh, and the sex. That’s nice, too . . .
Okay, it’s more than nice. It’s better than I thought sex could be.
I wish things could continue to be this way, indefinitely. But we both know that’s impossible. There’s an axe hanging over both our heads, and we’re trying our best to ignore it because we know how precious time is.
We tell ourselves that we’re just trying to be fully present in the moment, but in reality we’re just stalling.
We both know a storm’s coming our way.
Aubrey
“You’ve never cooked a day in your life, have you?” Aiden asks as he peers over my shoulder.
I hold the onion a little tighter between my fingers while my knife-wielding hand slices through the translucent-green layers. My eyes sting like a bitch. And it doesn’t help that I’m so nervous about this dinner I can’t focus.
“No,” I admit as tears roll down my cheeks.
“Don’t cry. It’s okay if you can’t cook,” Aiden says as he wraps one arm around my waist and wipes my tears away. “I still love you just the same.”
I laugh and sniffle at the same time as evil, onion-y, sulfur-laced air jabs me right in the face. This is a strange sensation. “It’s just the onion,” I say.
“I know, princess.” Aiden gives me a light peck on my forehead. He grabs the cutting board, onion and all, and takes it away.
“Hey,” I protest as I wipe my tears with my forearm, “I was doing stuff to that onion.”
“You can continue doing stuff to it here,” Aiden says as he places the cutting board on the stove. He points up. “This nice, big vent is going to suck up some of those irritating chemicals. Freezing the onion before cutting helps, too, but we don’t have the time.”
“I should’ve bought something from my usual place instead. I think I can pass off some of those dishes as mine. Like the nachos, for example,” I say as I turn around to face the stove, keeping my eyes on the big, sharp knife in my right hand. I shouldn’t be trusted with this weapon; I could actually hurt someone with this.
“Before tonight, I would’ve told you to just watch some cooking videos on YouTube and follow the directions. But after seeing you attempt to cut the onion without peeling off the skin . . . I don’t know.” Aiden checks the water that’s boiling in the pot. “Maybe you should stay away from the kitchen altogether.”
“And you’ll cook for me?” I ask, smiling.
“Sure, on my days off,” Aiden says without any hesitation. He seems to have embraced this sharing-an-apartment thing, even though this is only supposed to be temporary and he’s going home tonight.
If it weren’t for him, I would’ve given in and called for delivery. But Aiden has been cooking since his mom started working. Throughout the week, they’d take turns preparing the meals.
I feel embarrassed knowing how much Aiden had on his plate when he was still in med school—he had to follow the same jam-packed schedule I did, work part time on top of that, and be responsible for some house chores, too.
Meanwhile, I only had med school to worry about. My dad wanted me to focus on my studies to the point where he used to send someone to come deep-clean my apartment once a month.
Now that I’m paying for everything myself, I’ve decided to fire the cleaning lady. I still eat out all the time, though.
“Ouch! Son of a…!” I stare at my finger as blood escapes through a tear in my skin and forms a little red droplet at the tip.
“Are you okay?” Aiden takes my hand and guides me to the sink. He turns on the tap and holds my injured finger under the cold water. “Good thing I fixed the tap, huh?”
I hiss as the water hits the open wound, but soon it stops hurting.
“Maybe you’re too anxious to cook today, princess,” Aiden says. “Why don’t you sit there at the kitchen island and let me finish up?”
“No, let me do the stuff that
doesn’t involve sharp things, at least. I told my parents I was going to cook for them. I want them to see that I can take care of myself now. Maybe then they’ll finally see me as a grown-up.” I let the water drip off my finger and let it dry.
“Not all grown-ups cook,” Aiden says as he turns off the tap.
“I know . . .” I stare at the stainless-steel kitchen sink. “I guess I just feel like I need to do everything I can think of to help my case.”
When Aiden levels his gaze at me, there’s concern in his eyes. “You know you don’t have to do this on your own, right? I can stay if you want me to.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s going to help.” I can’t predict how my dad’s going to react after I tell him I’m once again dating the boy he spent a fortune getting rid of. He can get pretty mean when he’s angry, and I’d rather not have Aiden there to see that ugly scene.
Aiden lets out a big sigh. “I wish there was something I can do.”
“But there is. You’re going to have a talk with your mom, and I’m going to have a talk with my parents.” I put my hands on Aiden’s muscular arms. “That’s the best way to do this. Hannah says that’s how she and Earl deal with the in-laws.”
“If you say so, princess.” Aiden pulls me into his arms. “My mom’s easy, though. I just want her to understand that I’m not leaving you. There’s really nothing she can do to me to change my mind.” Aiden pauses as he looks down, deep into my eyes. “Your dad, on the other hand . . . I just hate the thought of him doing something to punish you in some way.”
“It’s okay. He’s just my dad. He’s not going to seriously harm me. Like you, I just want my parents to understand that I’m not leaving you. There’s nothing they can do to me to change my mind. I’m supporting myself anyway. What can they do to me?”
Aiden goes quiet, as if he’s thinking about all the different ways my parents can actually hurt me.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. I’m just worried for you.”
“Don’t be,” I say, even as doubt creeps into my mind. “Just kiss me.”
As Aiden’s lips land on mine, gentle as rain, I melt in his embrace.
For the past few days, we’ve been holing up in our own little love nest. But we both know this can’t last.
Now my parents are here to celebrate my first two weeks at my job. They’re visiting to hear all about my experience as a medical resident. My dad knows the Chief of Medicine at the hospital where I work, too, so he may want to drop by while I’m working.
But they don’t expect to hear anything about a new boyfriend, and they certainly don’t expect me to even be in contact with Aiden.
To be honest, the thought of confronting my dad and the possibility of things going wrong terrify me. That’s why I wanted to just keep things the same and not say anything to our parents for a while.
I was scared that something would happen to tear Aiden and me apart again, and I wanted to spend as much time with him as I could, just in case I never get to be with him again.
But that’s dumb. We’re both adults. Our parents can’t tell us what to do.
It’s time to come clean. Aiden and I aren’t doing anything wrong, and we refuse to hide in the shadows.
Aubrey
Dinner does not start well.
Firstly, Aiden only left fifteen minutes ago. It took longer than I thought to prepare the food. Maybe I was underestimating the amount of work I had to do, or overestimating my speed at doing all that work. So we had to rush and my heart’s still racing now.
And now, as I’m holding the door open for my parents, I notice them staring at something on my neck and then glancing at each other.
Oh, no.
Do I have a hickey?
. . .
Or several?
Ever since Aiden learned how much being bitten on the neck gets me going, he’s been doing it all the time. I’ve had to wear concealer to cover the dark marks when I go outside, but I just had a shower and I was so nervous I forgot to check myself in the mirror.
“How was your trip?” I ask, in an attempt to act normal.
“As usual, it took too long, the seats were too small, and the babies were too loud,” Mom says as she gives me a hug.
“How are you, sweetheart?” my dad asks, his gaze still fixed on my neck.
“I’m good.” I give him a hug and close the front door.
“It smells good,” Mom says.
“Wait until you taste it. Take your seats.” I gesture at the dining table. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
As soon as I get to the bathroom, I lean forward over the vanity to look more closely at my neck.
Damn it.
I grab some concealer from my medicine cabinet and dab it over the purple mark on my skin. It’s a small one, but it’s pretty close to my throat and I have no doubt my parents saw it.
But what the hell, right? I’m a grown-up. I can do whatever I want.
That said, though, I realize how high school hickeys are. But what can I say? I like what I like.
I check my reflection one more time, then take a deep breath before I walk outside to face my battle.
As far as battles go, this one starts out pretty peacefully.
We have some pasta while we talk about my work. My dad asks me who my attending physician is, and he says it’s good that I have a “female role model.” I tell them about the time I told a nurse to “call a doctor” before I realized I was the doctor, and they laugh.
All in all, it’s a pretty normal dinner for the three of us. Still, I don’t know about my parents, but I feel like there’s a lot of tension going on just under the surface.
Can they feel that I’m about to tell them something big?
How are they going to react?
I try to tell myself it’s going to be fine. It’s been ten years. Does my dad really still hate Aiden that much after such a long time? As stubborn as my dad is, I find it hard to believe that. Aiden was just a teenager.
But on the other hand, there are a lot of things I don’t know. I’m going in blind. If knowledge is power, then I’m screwed.
“Looks like you’re doing well on your own,” Dad says, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I give him a terse smile.
Normally, I’d be grinning, but now I don’t know if I should care at all about my dad’s approval. Obviously, I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.
“I’m proud of you too, honey,” Mom says. “Even the meal was delicious. Well done.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I take a deep breath, but it doesn’t help quell the thumping in my chest or the sick feeling in my stomach. “Actually, I have a confession.” I pause and look at my parents across the small, wooden dining table from me. I force a smile. “I didn’t prepare this dinner by myself. Someone was helping me.”
“Who?” Dad asks as he gives Mom a look.
“We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of weeks,” I say as my heart beats even faster, “but we’ve known each other for years. We used to date when we were teenagers.”
Dad’s face immediately hardens. His jaw tightens and the muscles in his neck tense. “Don’t tell me it’s that boy.”
“It’s Aiden,” I say defensively.
Seriously? Dad still hates him? He doesn’t even know what Aiden’s like now. Hell, he was at Hannah’s wedding, and Dad didn’t recognize him among the other groomsmen.
“You will not see him again,” Dad says.
“Are you kidding me?” I ask. “Dad, I’m not a kid anymore. You can’t tell me who I can and cannot see.”
“That boy made you run away from home,” Dad says, his eyes flashing with anger.
“He didn’t make me do anything!” I exclaim. “You were smothering me, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to be with him. He didn’t make me do anything.”
“Do you know how dangerous that was, running away from
home?” Dad asks, ignoring what I just said. “You could’ve been kidnapped. You could’ve been hurt. You could’ve ended up sleeping on pieces of cardboard on the streets.”
“Yeah, and I’m telling you right now, you can’t blame me running away from home on Aiden. When are you going to see that I can make my own decisions? I’m not just some brain-dead follower who’ll do whatever some guy tells me; I never was.
“For the last time, Dad, it was my own decision to leave home.” I don’t know where the words came from, but they spring forth like a deluge. It feels like a valve has opened to let out years of pent-up pressure. “It was your own fault for driving me away. You just can’t accept that.”
“Would you have done it if you didn’t know him?” Dad asks, a deep frown etched into his features.
We both know I ran away because Dad was keeping an extra-tight leash on me, and we were having frequent fights. And the reason for all that discord was because Dad didn’t like Aiden and I didn't care. He thinks that means it was Aiden’s fault.
“That’s not a fair question,” I say, “and you know it.”
“The fact is, you endangered yourself for him, and I can’t let you see him again,” Dad says.
“I endangered myself by waiting for Aiden at a diner in a safe neighborhood?” I ask.
“You were sixteen. You weren’t supposed to be roaming the streets late at night.”
I stare at him. I can’t believe he’s still being so stubborn about this.
“Firstly, Dad, I wasn’t ‘roaming the streets.’ I was at the diner I used to go to a lot, and that was how you found me so quickly. I should’ve picked a different place to meet up, but hey, I was sixteen.”
I drag as much air as I can into my constricted lungs. I’ve been practicing the next line all day in my head, but it still makes me nervous to actually say it.
“And secondly,” I add, “do you think that excuses the fact that you went behind my back to pay Aiden’s mom money to take him out of the city?”
Dad stares back into my eyes. He’s showing no remorse. “I thought that might’ve come up,” he says calmly. “Despite the fact that she promised me over and over again, with tears in her eyes, that her boy was never going to bother you again, here we are. Don’t you think that says something about her character, and her son’s? They just took the money, hid it from you, and they’re still doing whatever they want, even though it goes against something they’ve already agreed to.”
