by Amanda Rayne
Aiden smiled, the sincerity and the connection he had established with her from something so benign bothered me. A connection deep rooted in undisclosed secrets, pleasure, camaraderie. I didn’t have the right to be jealous but I was. Something lingered between them, undeniable and strong. As Todd moved toward their friends, Jessica in tow, she looked back several times, her eyes capturing Aiden’s for a moment, before they seemed to drop in desolate sorrow.
We continued for a couple more games, but I was ready to leave after the first one. Every time I looked over at Jessy’s party I found her looking at us—no, Aiden. A special yearning, in her eyes. Was she seven days of pleasure? Did she want more? Furtive glances shot in her direction and with each passing moment. How many days was she with him that had left her like this. She was engaged and yet she clearly wanted Aiden.
I muddled my way through the rest of the game. And I tried to pay attention to the conversation with Aiden, but found myself drifting off to Jessy and the way she looked at Aiden.
As we drove back to his apartment I trained my attention on the skyscrapers that silhouetted the skyline. The moon had receded to the background just offering a minimal amount of light, but enough to see Aiden’s defined features and the small frown that started to form. Each time I glanced in his direction, deep emotive amber eyes glanced in my direction.
Once in the apartment, I couldn’t suppress my curiosity any longer. “Was Jessy one of your ‘pleasure weeks’” I asked. He moved with a grace that always left me in awe, and when he gently stroked my hair, it was a task to hold on to my curiosity. He kissed me gently on the cheek, his fingers lacing through my hair pulling me closer. I inhaled him, the scent of his cologne lingered, the gentle warmth of his kisses against my lips left me breathless. Hungry kisses pulled all thoughts of inquiry for that moment and he’d distracted me. Which was his goal.
I pulled away trying to get as much distance between us as possible.
“Was Jessy one of your pleasure weeks?” I asked again.
“Yes.”
“How long ago?”
He pulled out his phone and scrolled through it. “It’s been eight months,” he offered.
“How long was she with you?”
He considered the question for a while. “We spent a month together.”
“She has feelings for you.”
“She’s engaged.” His answer held a level of annoyance. But I wasn’t sure if it was the line of questioning or the fact that he was being questioned.
“Doesn’t mean anything. I saw the way she looked at you. What happened after the month?” I asked.
“The month was over,” he said in a level voice.
“But—”
“The month was over. That was the agreement,” he said. He looked out the window. His features stern and distant. His voice and demeanor a cool breeze.
“I think she is in love with you.”
“She is in love with the idea of me and what I represent to her. Someone to explore her sexuality with, money, and this,” he jerked his hand in the direction of the apartment. “She wanted it all without any strings attached. Just the idea of perpetual fun and pleasure is what appealed to her. It appealed to both of us. She’ll never be happy in a relationship. Her fiancée will come home one night to find her gone, or in bed with another man—just some random man that she thought was hot,” he said. “That’s who she is and that’s what I wanted at the time.”
I wasn’t convinced. It was easy to see how someone could fall in love with him. To see him more as just a one night stand, or pleasure for the day, week, or month. I was drawn to the intense way he looked at me when I spoke. The gentle way he touched my body and it responded with the slightest brush of his hand. The way I felt when I breathed his masculine smell that wafted off his body. The way he strummed my body like an instrument, making it play a melody unfamiliar to me.
“What about me? What makes you want me ‘at the time’” I asked. He walked me back until I was against the counter. He lifted my chin until my eyes met his.
“You, Ella, I have not quite figured out,” he admitted softly. “But you are restricting yourself.”
“In what way?” I asked. We were so close our lips brushed each other as we spoke. I liked the way they felt against mine.
“You’ve convinced yourself this is wrong. Women like you marry your college boyfriend because your parents like him. Women like you don’t meet a stranger in a coffeehouse and fuck him. You enjoyed it—but you hate that you did.” He drew his hand down the curve of my neck, down the front of my shirt. My nipples hardened against the bra. He pinched them, and my gasp melted into a moan. “It bothers you. Why?”
“It doesn’t bother me.” I said.
“Then what’s really on your mind, Ella?” He asked, his finger tracing along my lower lip.
“What happens after this week?” I asked.
“What do you want to happen?” he asked softly. He pressed his lips against mine. “I’m a distraction for you—I’m okay with that. What about you?”
He was right, he was a distraction. A wonderful distraction. I hadn’t thought about Jason, the embarrassment of a broken engagement, the shame of my ex-fiancé marrying his mistress, or the fact my parents considered me a disappointment because of my career and life choices. Aiden was a beautiful distraction but in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but wonder if I could be okay with him just being that.
But curiosity still bested me. Aiden clearly could have any women he wanted, why did he choose the ones that he did? “How did you meet Jessy?”
“She was at a bachelorette party at a club,” He responded quickly as though.
“You picked someone up at a bachelorette party?”
Aiden relaxed into the smirk before taking a few steps away. Immediately I missed his touch and the weight of his body on mine. “No, she picked me up.”
“And?”
He shrugged, “She was fun. Asked her to stay a couple of days it turned into a week. She called her fiancée to call off the wedding and stayed for a month. It ran its course and it was over.”
“She was the bride!” The incredulous response coaxed a laugh from him.
He cocked his head, the smirk faltered for a moment as he considered this situation. “Like I said, her fiancé will come home to find her either gone or with someone else. That’s what happens when you force yourself to be something you’re not.”
Once again he was in front of me, taking to task his role as distractor as he slipped my shirt off and tossed it aside. Then he tugged off my jeans. Trailing kisses over my cheek, down my neck. He removed my breast from my bra, taking the hardened peaks into his mouth, luring a moan from me as he made small circles around them. I whimpered when his teeth nipped at them.
He moved his mouth back to my lips as he kissed me harder, commanding a fervent response as he hooked his thumb to take them off. Dropping his pants, he pulled me to him plunging into me with a quick thrust. I wrapped my legs as he turned pushing me against the wall. Taking me at a slow rhythm that quickly evolved to deep powerful pulsed movements. Heat rose in me, I met his onslaught of movements with the same intensity. My fingers interlaced in his hair, pulling him closer, taking in his hungry kisses. The orgasm crashed into me, the deep thrust persisted, only to elicit another, stronger. Spent, I sunk into the wall. The heaviness of his body draped over me. He brought his lips to my neck and breathed in my scent as he whispered, “And I don’t think you, sweet Ella, are the good girl that you want to be.”
He was right, because as he remained inside of me, my legs hooked on the crest of his hip, and my body slowly recovering the moments of intense pleasure, the only thing I could think about was doing it again.
CHAPTER 8
When Aiden told me we were going to another showing of Kieran’s I thought of my mother’s face during brunch earlier. This definitely didn’t fit in her perfect picture for me. As I walked through the gallery, a few canvas pictures covered th
e wall just as erotic and decadent as the first gallery showing. There weren’t any women in compromising tantalizing positions with their asses streaked from being spanked. Instead, they were similar to the photo shoot I’d seen earlier. Naked bodies, wrapped around one another, covering the breasts and privates. Pretty tamed but at each turn the corner of the gallery I was met with a photo far more provocative than the previous. Where there wasn’t a picture there was a person painted as art. An olive colored woman was stretched out, front pressed against the wall. Her exposed back, painted with flowers. Minor movement of the body depicted the various stages of bloom.
A peak around another corner and there was a man, fully exposed, painted in varying hues of green and blue, his body contorted around a large silver ball painted to look crevices and craters that reminded me of the moon. I blushed under Aiden’s intense curious stare that only left me to grab two glasses of wine from the waitress who to had been made into art in motion: her naked body painted to look like pineapple and on top her head adorned with a crown similar to the fruit. I scanned the room, all the servers were painted similarly in either: a fruit, flower, or a bathing suit.
Still staring at the various bodies around me, I didn’t pull my attention from them until Aiden placed the glass near my hand.
“What do you think?” Kieran asked from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, the light lilt of his smile brightened his features.
“I think it’s your best one yet,” Aiden offered. Then he directed his attention to me, a look of laden curiosity. I took another look around the room that was nothing more than a statement of sexual decadence, a tribute to hedonism, and unabashed exploration of sexuality.
Kieran stepped around so that we were face to face. “Ella,” rolled off his tongue in a soft sweet melody. I lifted my eyes to meet his and moved it to Aiden. The same curiosity unfolding as they waited for a response.
“Have your puritan sensibilities rendered you speechless?” he teased covering the hand holding the glass of wine and guiding the glass to my lips.
After I emptied it, Aiden offered me his. I took another sip, it wasn’t helping. But I had a sense of humor about it. “I think we are going to go to jail for participating in a public indecency.”
Kieran’s laugh was light and wispy. He looked at his watch, “Come follow me, there’s more.”
I hesitated and Aiden waited for me at his side. “What’s wrong?”
“More? How much more can there be? I’ve seen more cocks here than I have in my entire life and more vaginas, too—and I have one!”
He chuckled and stepped closer, his finger traced down my bare arm. “We can leave, if you want.” He leaned in, “But I do believe you will enjoy it.”
I turned the glass up and finished the wine. “Okay, let’s see what else the porn peddler has for us.”
Aiden chuckled as he guided me around the corner and through several rooms until we ended up in a small section in the back of the gallery. There were several seats, but most people stood. Kieran waved us forward to two seats next to him. Aiden guided me to sit between the two of them.
I stared at the art—or what he was trying to pass off as art. In an enclosed glass a woman laid back on the floor, her naked pale skin a complementing contrast by the teal backdrop and flooring. She was beautiful and intriguing as she lie motionless occasionally inhaling the air. A light smile placed on her lips as she enjoyed the fruity scents that claimed the air. She closed her eyes as the lights dimmed. A low spotlight overhead as two men entered the room next to her as naked as she was. One a golden brown, the other parchment color. One sat next to her, her movement fluid and graceful as she came to her knees and leaned back against him, slowly moving in a choreographed rhythm. As with the photo shoot earlier, I had no idea if he’d entered her. They were stilled behind her and the man pressed his chest against her breast, his hand rested at her hip. They moved in sync, erotic movements, changing positions, the next one more evocative than the previous. As they moved, gyrating against each other, sweat glistening from their bodies, they moved at a steady beat and sexuality and delicious sin. And then moved together faster at times, then slowed to sensual gyration of the body. Before I could figure out whether or not they were actually having sex, the light slowly dimmed to darkness.
Was this art?
Was it art? The question lingered on my mind as we left the gallery and walked the four blocks to a club. The walk was what I needed. I hadn’t realized how warm my body was until the cool air hit it. Aiden shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around me. The smell of his cologne, which I loved, ensorcelled me but still wasn’t a big enough distraction. I could feel Aiden’s eyes on me and each time I looked in his direction I was met with intense smoldering narrow eyes.
We found a small area in the corner to sit. It was still early so the place was moderately crowded and I could hear Aiden over the sultry sound of the music that pulsed throughout the room. A few people sat at the bar, a woman who had one too many was winding to the beats that filled the room.
“What do you think?”
“I think your friend is trying to pass off porn as art,” I asserted.
He chuckled. “Besides him being a ‘porn peddler’ and possibly a…let me guess, pimp. What did you think of what you saw earlier?”
“Yeah, that is kind of pimp-y. He peddles sex. I don’t think the patrons were thinking…gee, nice art as they watched the display. They were probably wondering who they were going to nail once the show was over.”
Resting back in the chair, the sinful grin kinked the side of his lip, “And what did you think about it? Did it make you want to “nail” someone or someones?”
I shrugged. “It was titillating and provocative. But I guess that was the point,” I admitted under his intense stare.
“And?” he said.
“Erotic.”
“How did it make you feel?”
“How did it make you feel?” I pressed with a kink in my lips the mirrored his.
He shrugged and scanned the room, “Sexuality and what pleases people always intrigue me. That woman over there,” he nodded in the direction of the woman I noticed earlier dancing seductively to the music. “People probably think she’s doing it for attention. She’s not. She gets off on being watched. Her eyes are closed—she doesn’t care who’s watching. She just wants to be watched.”
“And that excites you?” I asked because he continued to watch her for a few more seconds.
“No, but it might excite you. In the car the other night, you never responded to me the way you did that day. Was it that Elizabeth was on the other end or Bane in front who could see us from the review mirror?”
I licked my lips and dropped my head to my hands on the table, the rush of heat brushed against my cheeks. I knew they were ruddy.
“Ella, look at me,” my eyes flew up to meet his at the command of his voice. “Don’t. Don’t ever be embarrassed with me. You like what you like. I am just trying to figure out what did it for you. Was it being watched? Another man being in the room? Another woman? What?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. Honestly, I didn’t know. It seemed so pathetic and silly to say it was Aiden, but there was some truth in it. He took the reins off my sexuality. I liked the things he did to me—all of it. “What about you? What do you like?”
He shrugged, “I don’t put a lot of restriction on my sex life—it’s about pleasure and fun. Because in the end that’s what you’re left with. Did something or someone make you feel good or did it not.”
“That’s very cynical and simplistic view.”
“I appreciate the complexities that exist in between. But it all can be boiled down to the basics: did you like it or not? Did it feel good or not?”
“Okay. The exhibit—or whatever Kieran wants to call it, how did it make you feel?” I asked.
“Curious.”
“Curious?”
He nodded, “Yes, curious about you. Ella, tell me why co
uldn’t you take your eyes off of it?” he inquired giving the full intensity of this gaze as they narrowed on me.
I took another sip from my glass. And then another. And then another before I could admit it, “I liked watching it. All of it.”
Kieran’s exhibit aroused me the way I’m sure it did everyone who had attended and as I stood in the middle of my room with him watching from the doorway, I wanted him closer to me. He’d stopped me with a quelling look. It wasn’t until I was totally still that he approached me before slowly circling me. Then he moved closer to me, warm breath breezed against my skin. “Close your eyes for me.”
I did, just in time to see him remove his tie. I kept them closed as silk covered my eyes. He kissed me and warmth licked at my skin. His cologne wafted in the air, languid fingers traveled around me caressing my body. He unzipped my dress and it dropped to the floor and then he took my hand and guided me as I stepped out of it. He planted soft kisses on my lips, my neck, over my bra flicking over the nipple through the thin fabric. His body warmth moved around me, his back pressed against mine, heat nicked at my skin. Lips pressed against mine, fuller, cooler. Slow at first, then more commanding. Fingers snaked around me and pulled me closer to him. A hard cock pressed against me from behind, another in the front. I returned the kiss. Different. Very different. The cologne was different. Someone else was in the room. Touching me, kissing me. It wasn’t Aiden.
“Stop.” I said it softy. But no one did. And the touching persisted. Four hands sinuously moved over me.
“Stop.” I said it again, louder. Too much stimulation. Hands. Kisses. Fingers touching me intimately, sliding over my body, caressing my skin. Heat formed around me—aroused. But I didn’t like it.
“No!” I ripped off the blindfold. In front of me was Kieran, he stepped forward to kiss me again. I cowered back. “No.” I didn’t recognize my own trembling voice. But he reached out and touched me again.
“Stop. She said stop.” Aiden commanded from behind me. Kieran nodded slowly and took several steps back. I stood in front of the massive room, looking at them, blinking back the tears that welled in my eyes. Aiden reached for me.
