His to Cherish

by Stacey Lynn

  “I am sorry,” I whispered softly. He tensed, but I keep going. “He was a great kid. One of the best, and I miss him. The kids at school miss him, and we’ll all miss him for a long, long time.”

  His arms left my back and my shoulders, and his hands moved to my neck.

  I swallowed, startled by the strength I knew he carried in his hands. Not that he’d hurt me, but he pressed me back until I was on my heels and his eyes stared into mine.

  They bored into me like he was trying to find a hidden message, a secret, but I wasn’t holding anything back from Aidan. I didn’t want to. I wanted him to see all of me, and, when he was ready, I wanted him to want me.

  Speckled honey dotted the brightest green eyes I’d ever seen and I stayed still, my breath coming in short pants.

  Then he leaned forward and my breath stopped.

  Softly and slowly, his thumbs tightened under my jaw, and his lips moved closer.

  His tongue darted out, licking his lips, while he kept his eyes wide open, fixed on me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.

  I could only hope that he did what I thought he was going to do.

  It wasn’t nearly enough, but I took it.

  Because when his slightly wet lips gently brushed against mine just once before he pulled back, I swore I could taste the hint of forever in his barely there kiss.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

  I silently commanded my heart to resume beating before I passed out in his arms in my kitchen.

  Thankfully my heart listened. The beat returned at an increased speed and Aidan let me go.

  I stood there for a moment, watched him return to his beer and take another long swallow, and then I willed my feet to move to the stove, where his noodles were most likely burning to the bottom of the pot.

  —

  I was quite possibly the most comfortable I had ever been in my life.

  One of Aidan’s muscled arms was under my neck and wrapped around my back, and he was holding me so my front was pressed to his side, my head resting on his shoulder. My hands were clasped together and beneath my cheek, even though I really wanted to let one of them drape across the naked abs I’d been staring at for the last ten minutes.

  I couldn’t bring myself to budge, which might mean he’d move his arm, and I definitely didn’t want that.

  I suffered in silence, one of my arms slightly cramped, with a smile that I tried to keep hidden. I didn’t want him to know how happy this was making me. And I still wasn’t sure how we’d ended up here. In my bed. My chest pressed to his side.

  I just knew it felt like heaven.

  Earlier, after we’d watched three hours of American Picker, a show both of us hadn’t seen before but found quite entertaining, I’d gone to the hall closet and came back to the couch with the pillow and blanket I’d used the night before.

  Aidan had shot me an incredulous look that felt oddly threatening and asked, “You know what happened last night when I woke up and saw you asleep on the couch?”

  I remembered. I remembered him carrying me to bed, tucking me close to him, and I still felt his lips brush against my temple. Fear of drool falling out of my mouth if I parted my lips made me press them firmly together. I nodded.

  His lips twitched before he grabbed his overnight bag and took it to the hall bathroom. When he was halfway there, he called out, “You try sleeping on that couch tonight and I’ll do the exact same thing.”

  I debated for a moment. From what I remembered, it felt really good to be carried in his arms through my house. How good would it feel if I was fully awake and he did it again?

  Then I realized what he’d offered. A night to fall asleep next to him.

  Decision easily made, I scurried to my own bathroom, washed my face, brushed my hair and my teeth, and thought, oh my god, oh my god, ohmygodohmygod. After I left the bathroom, my shoulders and neck jerked back when I saw his large frame lying on his back in my bed—head propped with my pillows.

  Aidan Devereaux was in my bed.

  Again. The second night in a row.

  I did the only thing a girl could do.

  I walked around to the other side, climbed in, lay on my side with my back to him, and pretended this was all perfectly normal.

  He didn’t seem to like it so much, because he muttered something about being alone, which made my heart squeeze. Then he wrapped an arm around my waist, rolled me over, and pulled me against him.

  That had been hours ago. Maybe only minutes. I’d lost track of time as I silently stared over the short, coarse black hair splayed across his chest. It was sexy. And I bet it was prickly. I bet when he moved that chest over a woman and that hair brushed against her nipples they hardened in delight.

  I just couldn’t bring myself to reach over and find out how good it really felt.

  His abs were divine—sculpted by someone who knew what they were doing when they created the most glorious male physique I’d ever seen.

  I hadn’t been able to sleep. I didn’t want to close my eyes and have this night end.

  Maybe it was stupid, but right then I was enjoying being a little bit stupid.

  I felt the muscles in Aidan’s jaw begin working as he moved, and sucked in a sharp breath when his jaw brushed against the top of my head.

  “He wanted you for me.”

  I tensed. From my shoulders down my back to my toes, I felt every muscle go tight.

  “What?” I choked out.

  “Derrick.” His hand on my hip tightened, and then he moved his thumb back and forth slowly. I didn’t know if he knew he was doing it, but that small gesture sent sparks flying to my core, not too far from where his thumb was still moving.

  Yeah…this was stupid.

  “Told me to ask you out, don’t know how many times, but he did. Kid was always on me about the single moms who threw themselves at me, and he thought it was nasty and stupid. Said you were pretty and nice and you’d be better than any of them.”

  I couldn’t name the emotion that filled me as he talked quietly, his thumb the only movement on my body. Part of me lit up in elation with the realization that he had been flirting with me the past couple of years, and that he’d talked about me. That all those nights among our friends or at Fireside, where I thought I saw a spark of interest, I wasn’t wrong. The other part began to slowly wither. Because now it all made sense—the reason he stopped by my house that first day or came over, or why he kissed me—he was doing what his son wanted.

  He was hanging out with me because Derrick had wanted it.

  It had nothing to do with me or him or him needing me in order to get over his grief, or whatever fairy tale I’d created in my head.

  God, I was such a fool. I shifted my weight, unclasping my hands to push away, suddenly needing my space—a whole lot of it—when he stopped me.

  He turned his head and his eyes met mine.

  His eyes flicked to my lips then back up.

  “My whole head is messed up right now, my life is messed up.” He blinked, and I watched all his pain, so clear on his face, harden him. “But he wasn’t wrong about you.”

  As if that said everything, he leaned forward and brushed his lips across my cheek.

  I pushed against his chest again, despite wanting to lean into the feel of him, as everything he’d said finally registered. I had promised him whatever he needed, and despite knowing that whatever he gave me would be good, I couldn’t be used again. Not like this.

  Cory might have made me feel like a half a woman when he left, but he hadn’t taken my self-respect.

  I turned from his lips on my cheek, pressing against his hands slowly sliding up my back, and ignored the goosebumps that followed in the wake of his touch.

  My mind spun with questions and I settled on one. The only important one. “Am I just a place holder?”

  “What the hell does that mean?” he growled.

  With a quick grunt and a roll of his hips, he pinned me beneath his
muscular frame. This time it was his legs that straddled my hips and he instantly rocked into me.

  I tightened beneath him. Despite the sudden change in his emotions, he was still delicious. It took work to remain focused on my concern.

  “Am I, you know, holding a place right now in your life because you don’t want to be alone?” He silenced me with a glare.

  “Stop it.”

  “You just said you’re here because of Derrick, Aidan.” I shook my head, tried to figure out how to explain my concern. “I can be your friend. I can help you and be there for you. But I can’t be used, not in this way.”

  “Shit.” He flopped onto his back, pulling me with him until I was once again pressed against his side. One hand held me against him while his other hand draped over his eyes. “God, that’s not what I meant. It’s not even okay that you think that…that you think that of yourself, or that that’s the kind of man I am. I don’t use women, Chelsea.”

  He dropped his hand from his eyes. With his narrowed, serious eyes holding my gaze, his voice so tight with tension, I felt his honesty pour from him.

  His eyes searched mine, flicking back and forth between them, and I knew he could see my conflicting emotions there. The desire to trust what he’d just said over his earlier words. The mixture of lust and doubt. Fear.

  I hesitated to speak. He seemed to need a moment, and when his fingers began sliding beneath the waistband of my pajama bottoms, I forgot what I was going to say anyway. It was tantalizing, mind-numbing, fire building.

  “When Derrick was a kid, I always pushed him. Pushed him to do better, to do more, to try his hardest and then try harder. I wasn’t being a dick, but I told him that life’s too short for regrets. I wanted him to experience everything he could and enjoy the hell out of it. I wanted him to study as hard as he could so someday he could have his choice of schools. I wanted him to work harder at sports so he could find his passion and pursue it.”

  My throat burned as his voice cracked. I waited in silence, assuming he wasn’t done talking but needed a moment to gather his thoughts. He twisted and rolled onto his side.

  “Life’s too short to live with regrets. That’s what I told him, and yet for years I refused to go after what I wanted. Maybe today…tonight…earlier, I don’t even know when, I started thinking about that. How I’d pushed him to go after what he wanted, drilled these life lessons into his head, and at the same time I’ve been holding back on what I wanted.”

  His hand lifted, and he pressed his fingers to my temple before pushing back my hair. His eyes followed the movement, softening in a way I hadn’t yet seen.

  “Aidan—”

  “I’m so fucked up, Chelsea. So broken, damaged so much that I’ll never be the same man I once was. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing most days anymore and I’m not lying here, making promises to you. I’m saying that I’ve wanted you, that Derrick wanted you for me, and that I’m tired of sitting back, not living in the way I preached to my son. I don’t want to be a hypocrite, I want to live for him. Doesn’t mean I want you because he did. Doesn’t mean I’m here because he would have liked it, but I can’t say it doesn’t bring me some semblance of peace to know that he’s looking down at us right now, fucking thrilled for me.”

  A burning ignited in my throat and tears dripped from my eyes. I cupped his cheek with my palm and whispered Aidan’s name, unable to say anything else.

  In a moment, he’d shattered my heart with the way he spoke of his son and erased my doubts about what he was doing here.

  I dipped my chin, pressed my forehead to the base of his throat, and let him hold me while we both lost control of our emotions. Tears silently slid down my cheeks while his shoulders trembled. When I was able to inhale a shaky breath and stop my tears from falling, I pulled back.

  He rolled us again, pressing his weight into me. I felt him everywhere. The strength of his shoulders while my fingers wrapped around them, the warmth and width of his hips. His erection he didn’t seem to feel the need to hide. The way his legs pressed against mine as he settled between them.

  “I don’t have anything to give anyone and I don’t know when or if I will, but being around you, you giving me what I need, which sometimes is just another breath in the room when I want to punch the hell out of everyone and everything I see…that helps. I wish I would have done something sooner—taken you out properly or some shit, but I didn’t. And I didn’t give Derrick the chance to see me with you, giving him something he wanted that he thought would be good for me.”

  Holy crap.

  My breath stalled inside my chest and then leapt at my rib cage like it was going to jump free.

  “I want to be with you, Chelsea. I’ve always wanted that. You help in a way my friends can’t, but besides that, I just like being with you. I can’t make promises about where this is going because it’s too soon. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to see where it can go.”

  “I want that, too.”

  He dropped to his elbows, his hand went to my hair, and he tugged it gently. Playfully.

  “We good now?” he asked, one eyebrow arched in question.

  A smile tipped the edges of my lips and I looked up. “We’re good.”

  I was better than that. Everything he’d said washed away my nerves and my fears, and I couldn’t ask for more than the honesty he’d just laid out there so blatantly, so easily. He gave it to me, unrestrained, despite the pain I knew it brought him to talk about Derrick.

  His eyebrows pulled in really quick before relaxing. Tension faded from his eyes and his lips did the same thing mine had just done.

  He smiled. It was small and it was faint, but it lit up the entire room, because Aidan smiling was one of the most fantastically beautiful things I’d ever witnessed.

  “Pretty inside and out,” Aidan whispered. “My son had good taste.”

  I thought of all the things Derrick was good at—sports, his kindness, his smiles, his grades, the friends he chose. Everything. Derrick was just good and kind.

  “He had a good heart, too,” I murmured, my throat clogged with unshed emotion that I refused to let choke me. “Just like his dad.”

  This time, Aidan didn’t move slowly or hesitantly.

  His hand gave another tug on my hair, his head turned close to me, and his lips pressed against mine.

  I felt it burn in my veins down to my toes until I felt myself squirm against him, needing to get close to him, but I stopped myself.

  It was just a kiss.

  When he pulled back, Aidan dropped his hand from my hair and moved it back to my hip. He readjusted us so we were lying the way we’d been at first, my front to his side, my head on his shoulder, and he sighed.

  “Sleep.”

  He commanded it as if I had no choice but to listen and my eyes would simply close based on his voice.

  He was not completely wrong. After several moments, my eyes began to feel heavy. His breathing evened out beneath me, and just as I began to fall asleep, I did what I’d wanted to do since I’d first been pressed against him.

  I moved my hand and draped my arm lightly across his stomach. His muscles tightened and rippled for a brief second before he relaxed.

  It felt wonderful. Perfect, really.

  And then my eyes grew heavier and I drifted to sleep, with Aidan snoring lightly by my ear, and even though I was half asleep, I knew I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

  Chapter 11

  After reaching over to silence the beeping next to the bed, I immediately tucked back into the warm wall of Aidan’s frame behind me.

  My body pulsed with warmth and need as I shifted against him, feeling his erection pressed against me.

  I needed to get out of there. Last night, a wall between us had been dropped, but with the way he was holding me, tightly against him, I could feel all of him, and it felt so good.

  “Um,” I whispered. “Aidan.”

  His thigh shifted and he pushed against me—intentionally. />
  “Quiet.”

  My mind swirled in early morning fog and lust. “We need to get up.”

  His hips jerked. His erection pressed against my back at the same time his arms pulled me closer. Not that it was possible, I was already plastered to him. “I already am.”

  Oh my. A laugh escaped my lips. He was joking. About that? My mind dipped straight into the gutter. The pressure of his thigh grinding and pressing against my groin, his coarse leg hair scratching the sensitive skin between my thighs sent sparks of pleasure to my sex.

  “Aidan,” I warned, once again trying to move away. “I need to get ready for work.”

  “Not today,” he grumbled. His head dipped and shifted until his lips were on my skin.

  I froze as he began tasting me. Tiny flicks of his tongue that felt like flames heating my skin. Everywhere he kissed began to burn and I pressed against him, relishing the hardness of everything that was Aidan.

  Still, I didn’t want to move too fast, not so soon after last night’s revelations. We could take our time. Be on sure footing before moving forward.

  But man, did I want it.

  “Aidan,” I warned again, my voice losing its seriousness. My hands moved to his in order to separate us. He didn’t let me. Instead he wrapped my hands in his. They practically disappeared under his palms. “Time for work.”

  “Not today,” he said again. This time with a tone. A tone that didn’t bode well for his attitude and one I had recognized last night when he came over. He didn’t want to talk. “Stay with me, and let’s pretend today doesn’t exist.”

  I frowned. “We can’t.”

  “I sure as fuck can.”

  With that angrily growled response, he let me go, turned, rolled off the bed, and was out the door to my bedroom before I could sit up.

  The slamming of the bathroom door made me jump and I scrambled out of the bed, following him.

  What the heck?

  I grabbed my robe and was in the kitchen when he came out in the same clothes he’d worn over the night before, minus the bag.