by Bridget Lang
Aiden ushered me into the kitchen and poured us both a drink.
"Thanks." The scotch was expensive, like everything else about this place. I couldn’t drink it, but that was none of his business. So, when he wasn't looking, I dumped it in the sink.
"Why are we here?" I finally asked. I wasn’t good at games. My style was blunt and forward. Got a question-ask it. One of the qualities that made me so good at my job.
Aiden raised an eyebrow. He looked a little taken aback. “You don’t want to be here?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m simply curious about your intentions.”
He grinned widely, clearly amused, and walked towards me. "Because I wanted to get to know you better.”
“You… wanted to… You mean you wanted to fuck me.”
Aiden coughed, choking on his scotch. “Wow,” he said, “Okay, yeah, I’ll admit it, you’re hot.”
“You want to fuck me after I tossed my enchiladas all over you? What, are you some kind of freak?”
He threw his head back and roared with laughter. “I said I wanted to get to know you better.” He set down his scotch and stepped closer, “You barreled your way into the mens locker room, then barely flinched when I flashed you, even though all eyes were on you. Then, the way you stood up to Rory ‘sexual harassment’ Shelton, was impressive. What are you all of about 120lbs? And, no, I could have done without you gifting me your stomach contents, thank you very much. I just never met anyone like you. Like I said, I wanted to get to know you better."
He was inches from me now. I could feel his breath on my face. "Say the word and I'll take you home, but I don't think you want to leave. Not yet anyway."
He cupped his hand under my chin and tilted my head back. I was breathing way too fast. I knew this was a gigantic mistake—it had to be—but when his hand touched my face my discretion forgot itself.
His lips pressed against mine and I gave in to the bold caress of his tongue. Relax relax relax. Only I couldn't relax, not with Aiden's fingers sliding under my shirt and up my back. His hands were surprisingly tender yet strong. My bra snapped open and my breasts spilled out. Aiden pulled my shirt over my head and stepped back to look at my ample chest.
“Beautiful,” his voice was husky with desire. He lowered his mouth to my nipples, swirling his tongue around one then the other, sucking gently. I moaned softly and my whole body seemed to convulse with need. My hormones were insane. His tongue moved faster until it left my breasts, sliding down towards my skirt.
Aiden lifted me off the floor with startling ease and sat me atop his kitchen counter. He buried his face between my legs, his mass of golden hair tickling my thighs. Pulling my panties off with his teeth, he ran his tongue over the length of my pussy before circling my clit. Holy shit. I arched my back and threaded my fingers through his hair. His hands slid over the outside of my legs as he worked his magic with his mouth, sliding his tongue in and out of my pussy, before running it up to encircle my clit. He continued the pattern moving faster and faster until a familiar tingling started deep in my core. I moaned softly. He was so in tune with my responses, that he instantly dropped his pants to the floor and next thing I knew, he had rolled a condom over his rigid dick and was inserting himself inside me.
It happened so fast I didn't even realize what was going on until his hands grabbed my ass and slid me off the counter on onto his thick length. His cock entered me an inch at a time until I felt completely full. He gave me a moment to get used to his girth before he turned us and slammed my back up against the opposite wall as he thrust into me again and again sending me into a state of sheer ecstasy. I clawed at his back and at one point I think I heard my moaning become screaming. He didn’t stop. He knew what I needed. With each push and thrust, my body released the tension and anxiety I'd felt building up for the last week. My heels dug into his ass and my fingers dug into his shoulders. He groaned, but it seemed to turn him on.
The electric sparks in my core began to build, and every time he thrust his rigid cock into me until our pelvises met, the sparks grew more intense. My head felt like it was floating, a light, airy feeling that grew brighter and bolder until I was flying amongst the clouds. My head rolled back as wild, delicious waves of pleasure enveloped my body climaxing in a tidal wave of bliss. My pussy pulsed with orgasm as Aiden let loose his own climax.
When I opened my eyes, he was smiling. "I thought that might be what you needed. I think you could use a little more, though."
Chapter 4
I woke up with my head pounding and my stomach in knots. Ugh! Unfair- I hadn't even had anything to drink last night. I lifted my head off the pillow and surveyed the bedroom. Aiden was gone. I picked up my phone to check the time and realized I'd never turned it back on last night. It lit up when I pushed the power button and I saw that I had fifteen missed phone calls from Troy.
"Shit," I murmured. I held the phone to my ear and listened to one of his voicemails. "Skyler, where the hell are you? Do you know how much you screwed up tonight? No interview? What the hell was I thinking when I hired you?"
And another, "Skyler, dammit! You call me the second you get this, you hear me. The second!"
I wasn't stupid. I knew that most of Troy's anger stemmed from our personal issue rather than my blowing the spot with Aiden. I wondered what he would think of me now if he knew just how up close and personal I'd interviewed Aiden last night. The thought made me chuckle.
"Morning," Aiden said when I entered the kitchen. He stood at the counter wearing nothing but a pair of low slung sweatpants that showed off his perfect abs. Day-um.
"Good Morning.”
"I can call you a cab when you’re ready," he offered.
A cab? My smile faltered slightly. So much for morning-after etiquette. I didn't expect him to be falling all over himself, but jeez, a cab seemed kind of crass even for Mr. Arrogant.
"Gee, thanks," I said.
"I've got a press conference this morning, so I don't have a lot of time. There's coffee ready if you want some," he told me.
"I know about the conference; I'm supposed to cover it. Coffee would be great, thanks." I stood by, waiting for him to get me a cup, but he barely looked up from his phone. I rolled my eyes and started opening cabinets until I found the right one. I poured a small amount of coffee into the mug— I knew pregnant women weren't really supposed to overdo the caffeine but I figured a cup wouldn't hurt. It was mostly milk and sugar in the cup anyway.
I stood awkwardly near him, not exactly sure what I'd expected, but certainly not this. Okay, whatever. I was a big girl. I could handle the brush-off. But, if he thinks he’s gonna call me a cab, he’s mistaken. I’ll call my own fucking cab.
"So," I said, "I guess you're not much of a morning person, huh?" I smiled sweetly not willing to let him see me irritated by his behavior.
"I'm just looking up some of the scores from last night. There are other hockey teams out there you know, and I was little preoccupied last night." He shot me a glance.
Preoccupied? Is that what he called it? Okay, asshole, you wanna play that game?
"Some would say that the Knights aren't much of a team," I said flippantly, and was delighted to receive the response I'd been hoping for. His brow creased and he looked up from his phone. "The Stanley Cup isn't even a glimmer in your eye right now," I added.
"Some people are idiots who don't know what they're talking about," he said through gritted teeth.
"Well, my Dad was a huge hockey fan, and his buddies still are. He's the reason I love the game. Unless you played for the Original Six, your team barely counts in their eyes."
"The Original Six huh?" he said, grinning. "What do you know about the Original Six? Name the teams."
I lifted an eyebrow. He had to be joking. This was basic hockey trivia. "Red Wings, Blackhawks, Rangers, Canadiens, Bruins, and Leafs. They sort of symbolize the game for hockey fans across North America. You've gotta give me something harder than that."
"Okay
," he said, setting his mug down. He actually seemed interested now. Yes, Mr. Full-of-himself, I am in the room. "First fifty goal scorer."
"Easy. Maurice Richard. Scored fifty goals in fifty games in the 1944-45 season. I thought I told you to give me something hard." My lips curved up at the corners and Aiden grinned at me.
"You know more than I gave you credit for," he said.
"Typical," I told him. "People figure 'cause I'm a female reporter I must not know my stuff, but that's gender-biased bullshit."
"I see that." His caramel eyes glimmered as the morning sun shone in through the picture window. "Where do you live?"
"Mid-Wilshire."
"I’ll drive you home."
That’s what I’m talkin’ bout. I stifled a grin.
"What about the cab? I thought you were too busy this morning to drive me?"
He shrugged. "Conference doesn't start for a little while yet, so no worries."
We hopped into his car and he headed east driving in silence for a while. His hand casually slid over my knee and I noticed the fresh cuts along his knuckles from last night's fight nestled in amongst the older ones, probably from previous fights.
"Why are you trying to ruin your career?" I burst out before I could stop it. I had a big mouth, and sometimes a very defective filter. Or, maybe, I was just irked that he'd been prepared to blow me off this morning.
"I'm not," he said, his jaw muscles tensed. His whole demeanor changed in an instant. He pulled his hand off my knee and gripped the wheel. "Are you still trying to get your interview?"
"No, I'm just asking you a question. Between you and me. Off the record. You've got a lot of talent. More than most. Seems a shame to waste it."
"I'm not wasting it," he said, his temper flaring. "I'm playing the game the best I can. Where am I taking you?"
"Wilshire and Western," I barked, folding my arms across my chest. I don't know what I was so mad for. I was the one who had started this.
We drove in silence a few more minutes before I opened my big mouth again. "It just seems to me that—"
"It just seems to me," Aiden raised his voice above mine, threw the car into park and faced me, "that some people are so wrapped up in other people's lives because they're not happy with their own."
"You have no basis to say that," I yelled back. Though it was a more astute observation than I would have thought him capable of making. After all, I wasn’t very happy being single and pregnant.
"I'd wager that I'm happier than you are," he shouted.
"Sure, that's why you're drinking yourself to death and engaging in bar fights every other weekend." I opened the car door and slammed it shut.
"At least I have someone to warm my bed each night," he shot back.
“Yeah, someone you barely know who doesn’t give two shits about you,” I yelled, furious. What the hell was wrong with me? These pregnancy hormones are crazy. I can hold my own with the best of them, but an insult like that was normally beneath me.
He stared at me for a moment, his mouth agape before his Porsche peeled away from my apartment, tires squealing.
I watched him go, anger and shame flushing my face. I didn't know why any of this should bother me so much. I barely knew him. Besides, he really was an arrogant fat-headed jerk. I was so preoccupied in my own emotions that I didn't even register it when he stopped his car at the end of the street and glanced back at me. I ran up the stairs to my building, lost in my thoughts. Waiting just outside the front entrance was Troy.
This day just keeps getting better and better.
Chapter 5
"What are you doing here, Troy?" I demanded. I didn't even realize he knew where I lived. Then again, of course he knew where I lived. He’d hired me. He had my address on file. I unlocked the front door and he followed me inside.
"If you're here about the interview—"
"I'm not," he said. "Though I don't know what the hell you were thinking blowing the very first interview I gave you. It makes you look like a complete amateur.” He flopped himself on my sofa. “Worse, it makes me look like an imbecile, and I'm not in the habit of looking like an imbecile."
I had to bite my tongue. "I'm tired. Was there something you wanted?"
"Have you thought about what we talked about?"
I lowered my eyes. I knew he wasn't gonna like my answer and I didn't want to see his reaction.
"I'm not getting an abortion, Troy." My words lingered in the air. I heard him stop breathing and finally looked up just to make sure he was still alive. His face was red.
He pounded his fist on the side table, "Why the hell not?" he demanded.
"Because this is the hand I've been dealt and this is the hand that I'll play."
"What the fuck does that mean?" he snarled. He spun around, throwing his hands in the air and letting out a loud grrrr that made me jump. When he turned back to me his eyes were dark.
"Don't you dare expect anything from me, you hear?"
"I don't."
"If one word of this leaks out to anyone I'll personally make sure that you never work in this town again."
"Fine."
He stood staring at me for a long time. "For God's sake Skyler, just terminate the god-damned thing. Do you really want to let a one-night stand ruin your life? It wasn't even that good!"
I knew he was just trying to bait me. "I'm not getting an abortion," I repeated, “And I’d like you to leave. Now.”
Anger exploded out of him. He flipped my coffee table over and pounded his fist into my wall, leaving a hole. I jumped away from him, terrified at his sudden violent outburst.
"I'll schedule it myself. I'll even take you there. You don't have to do anything."
"Still no," I said flatly. Despite the slight tremble in my voice, I was adamant and I wasn't going to be bullied. Ever since the night we'd slept together and the condom didn’t hold up, I'd felt like he was keeping tabs on me, maybe he was afraid I’d have something to hold over his head. After I told him I was pregnant a few days ago... well, something inside him seemed to have snapped.
"You can forget the press conference today," he said. "Don't even bother showing up."
My mouth dropped open. "Why not? You said—"
"I said a lot of things. But that was before I found out what a fuck up you are. I called you fifty times last night and you never answered. You already missed one interview. I wasn't about to let you miss this press conference too. I sent Gary."
"Gary? Gary can barely tie his shoes!"
"Well next time I send you for an interview, you make damned sure you get the fucking interview. Where were you last night anyhow?"
"Nowhere," I said, blushing. He stared at me a second, deciding something.
"Next time I call you, you answer. And don't forget, if you ruin me I'll ruin you," he finally said. "Got it?"
"Got it," I said quietly, turning so he wouldn’t see the tears pooling in my eyes. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he made me cry. Without another word, he turned to leave. I let out a long sigh and locked the door behind him.
Chapter 6
I stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my body and another around my hair, and stepped into the bedroom to turn on the TV. The press conference where I was supposed to have been was on ESPN. The Knights were making some big announcement about their new goalie, Erick Calquin. He was the first hockey player native to Africa who would be playing with the Knights.
Aiden sat beside the coach. His eyes kept flicking back and forth between the camera and the crowd of reporters. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought he was looking for someone. It can't be me. He doesn’t even like me right now. In fact, he probably hates me.
Last night had been amazing. Not only had Aiden taken me in the kitchen, but later again in the bedroom, and then in the shower as well. I sighed. But I knew better. One-night -stands weren't about like or dislike, they were about lust. Sometimes, as in the case with Troy, they were about the worst kin
d of lust—drunken lust that didn't make any sense to either party in the light of day. But with Aiden, the lust was definitely based on good chemistry. Physical chemistry, anyway. We obviously didn’t do so well otherwise, if this morning’s harsh words to each other was any indication.
My stomach turned over. Oh, no, here it comes. I made it to the bathroom just in time. The toilet bowl was becoming my new best friend.
I returned to the bedroom and climbed up against the pillows to watch the press conference. My phone lit up with a new text. I was shocked to see Aiden's number pop onto my screen. He'd put it in my phone last night sometime between the kitchen and the shower. I'd figured he'd just been playing around.
"He can't be texting me now," I murmured to myself. "He's still at the live press conference." I looked back up at the TV and saw Aiden, still sitting beside his coach, with his phone in his hand. I looked back at the text.
WHERE R U?
I couldn't believe he might really be messaging me on TV.
@ HOME
I saw his face fall the second he got my text.
U WATCHING?
I couldn't understand it. He'd dropped me off three hours ago and the last words we'd exchanged were angry ones. Why did he look so upset that I wasn't at the conference? Why the hell would he care where I was or if I was watching?
YES
Suddenly, he stood up. His coach stopped talking and looked at him.
"Uh," Coach laughed, turning back to the press. "Aiden just wants to give Erick a proper Knights welcome," he said. Then he covered the microphone, but everyone could still hear him tell Aiden to sit the fuck down.
Aiden was standing there with a sexy grin on his face. "I just wanted to give Erick a proper welcome, like Coach said."
Then Aiden turned his back to the cameras and dropped his pants. His bare ass came into view and flashes went off everywhere. Coach shook his head as Aiden wiggled his bare ass for the press. Coach tried to laugh it off, but I could tell he was pissed.
"Aiden," I mumbled to myself. "What the hell are you doing?"
