by James, Clare
“Those are special, Aria.” I place my hand on her knee. “Now take them off.”
“Here?” she squeaks.
I nod.
She looks behind us.
Thank Christ, it’s still a ghost town.
Aria proceeds to wiggle out of them, before placing the white cotton in my hand.
Now, I know it’s crude, but I can’t fucking help myself. This girl makes me nuts. I put those pure cotton panties up to my nose and inhale deeply, letting her musky scent wash over me. It’s intoxicating and delicious and I can’t stop what comes next.
Aria turns toward me again. Her skirt now barely covering her most intimate bits. She spreads her legs again, flashing her glistening pussy to me.
“Now what, Professor?” she asks.
“Now we move into that room,” I growl.
“But –” she starts.
I don’t listen.
I pull her into the study room and throw a chair up against the door, tipping it under the knob in a makeshift lock.
“The skirt comes off. Now.”
Aria swallows and it’s almost my undoing.
When the skirt falls from her body and pools around her ankles, I follow her lead and get rid of my pants and boxers. Then I lower myself into a chair in the corner of the room.
“Professor,” Aria says in mock surprise. She’s enjoying this little game.
“Come here, Aria. It’s time you learn not to stand me up in this condition, or make me wait.”
She takes one step closer and I fasten my hands on her hips, lifting her lithe body over me and onto my aching cock. She straddles my legs easily, letting me sink into her at an excruciatingly slow pace.
Tight. Oh God, she’s so tight.
“You understand what you did wrong?” I stay in character, feeling surrounded by her slick heat. I hold steady, refusing to move yet.
She nods, eyes wide.
“You won’t do it again?”
Aria shakes her head.
Then in one swift movement, I slide my hand up her shirt and pinch her nipple.
Hard.
“Asshole,” she says on an exhale. But once again, her body betrays her as she pushes her chest toward me.
So I do it to her left nipple, not letting go this time.
“Bastard.”
And then I thrust into her.
“Oh my God,” are the next words out of her mouth, followed by a series of muddled curses.
“That’s what I thought.”
I pull in and out of her tight channel and the friction is sublime. She meets me thrust for thrust, riding me recklessly. I know she’s mine to do as I please. And I want to fuck her until she can’t walk.
But we don’t have time for that.
I turn her around, bend her over the table, and bury myself to the hilt. She cries out because I’m so deep. And it is so incredible this way. I pull her shirt up over her head, binding her arms with it. She has another front-clasp bra on so I pop it open, exposing her perfectly.
Her moans and cries are pure need.
I ride her harder and harder, until her inner walls tighten around me in a punishing hold.
When her legs begin to shake, I reach around and push my thumb on her clit, pounding into her one last time.
She comes brilliantly and I follow right behind.
ARIA
I reassemble myself after what has to be the most sexually thrilling experience of my life. Though with Tris, it just seems to get better and better.
“Aria,” he groans after we both come. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to be so rough.”
“I … I ... I.”
Try again.
“What is it?” Tris asks in a voice so soft, it makes me want to crawl back in his lap again.
He actually came looking for me. Sure, it was the ultimate booty call, or booty delivery, but he wants me enough to make the effort and I can’t help but want him too.
“I loved that,” I tell him.
“It wasn’t too much?” he asks again.
“It was exactly what I wanted and what I needed. What about you?”
“Baby, you have no idea. You’ve wrecked me completely.”
***
The following night, I’m already missing Tris. Shit, this is what I was afraid of. I don’t have room in my life for this. I can’t be missing someone when I have so much going on.
As the days pass, our connection grows stronger and I find myself counting the minutes until Wednesday. But even when we’re together, I want more from him.
We never talk about the past. Though every once in a while something familiar will happen and I see a trace of a smirk cross his face. Like he remembers who we used to be to each other. A link that’s beyond sex. And I begin to crave these moments.
When I see him in public, however, it’s like we haven’t grown at all. Take our meeting at the store yesterday.
“Here shopping for men, Ari?” he asked.
“No. What about you? Shopping for a personality?”
“Very funny, brat.”
“Nice chat, dick.”
I don’t know, maybe this is what we need to be to each other. Maybe it’s for the best.
Thankfully, I have my family to keep me grounded.
Tonight, once I get Cade settled in, Mom makes tea. She always drinks peppermint in the evening. It brings back so many memories of us cuddled up on the couch watching TV or reading or playing checkers.
Tonight? She’s suckered me into a Downton Abbey marathon on Netflix. Serena was never into Mom’s things and God help our rough-around-the-edges brother. But Mom’s always been a romantic, much like I used to be.
After a few episodes I see the appeal.
“Okay, you’re right, this show is amazing.”
“See, what did I tell you?”
“Matthew is pretty dreamy.”
“He is, but I don’t know, I just adore Mr. Bates.”
“I can see that. He would be perfect for you. Where could we find a Mr. Bates in Gulf Bay?”
“I think that ship has sailed, my dear.”
“Mom, why didn’t you ever date after Dad left?” I finally ask the question I’ve had for so many years.
“I used to say it was time or you kids. But truthfully, honey, I was scared. I didn’t think I could open my heart again because I couldn’t risk it breaking.”
“Are you sorry?” I ask.
“Most of the time, I think it saved me a lot of frustration and heartache. I think there’s a reason I don’t have as many wrinkles as a woman my age should have.”
“Yeah, genetics. I’m praying for the same.”
“No, I think it’s because I’ve had control over my life. I’ve worked hard, but never really worried. It’s rare that I have an altercation. It’s rare I raise my voice, even when the three of you were little stinkers. I’ve been happy and sure of myself. I didn’t have a man to muck it all up.”
“And now?”
“You know, as nice as it was, I think I’d take a few more wrinkles.”
“It’s not too late, you know. Have you ever thought of Jimmy?”
“Jimmy? No, we’re more like family. Kate was one of my best friends.”
“And it’s been two years, Mom. I think she would approve. In fact, I know she would.”
“What makes you think Jimmy would even consider the idea?”
“Oh Mother, for someone so brilliant, you’re also so blind.”
“I might say the same about you, dear.”
“Well, yes, Alex. That was a low blow.”
“I’m not talking about Alex.”
I lift a brow.
“You know who I mean,” she says.
And we both sit on that for a moment.
“I’ll get the next episode ready,” Mom finally says. But when she presses play, she mumbles to herself , “Jimmy, hmph.”
And I think about Tristan – and how it could never work.
TRISTAN
The following Wednesday, I wait, half expecting her not to show. She’s skittish and undependable, despite knowing how I make her feel. How much she wants this. But she still hates me. I see it in her eyes when we’re in public. I can’t blame her.
“All right, asshole,” she says when she finally does make an appearance. “Let’s do this.”
It’s hot, but also a little fucked up. Honestly, the whole hate-sex thing is making me feel like a misogynistic bastard. I’m not sure how much longer I can play.
“Can we lose the act for today, Ari?”
“What’s the matter? You can call me names in front of the town, but not here. Losing your edge?”
“No, I’m getting a little tired of the whole game. I just want to be with you.”
She doesn’t know how to respond to that.
“How’d it ever get this far out of control, anyway?” I ask. “I know I told you to leave me alone, but I never wanted this.”
“What do you expect by the way you acted back then? When you said my life was a mess and I deserved what I got. How do you think I should’ve reacted? I know I’ve made mistakes, but some of them have been the best things in my life. Look at Cade. How could you ever imply he was a mistake or a mess? At least you were talking to me then. The rest of the time, you cut me out. Never even answered my calls.”
“Ari, I didn’t know about Cade until you came back into town.”
“How is that even possible?” she asks.
“You never told me.”
“I tried, but you never listened. But still, what about the papers, the news programs? Alex paraded him around every chance he got.”
“I detest sports. And after you left, I guess it was just easier to pretend. I avoided it and it really wasn’t hard, especially when I moved to L.A. I didn’t talk to Dad much other than business and Danny and I had a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“You, Alex, and football were completely off limits for conversation. And each time I put you down, I was only referring to your choice to leave with Alex. I know it was bad, but you destroyed me, Aria. You have to believe me, though; I’d never talk shit that about a kid. Never. Especially yours.”
“Well, I know you’re not into children.”
“I think you’d be surprised.” I don’t want to tell her about my time with Cade or the fact that I enjoy our afternoons more than he does. It seems a little self-serving at this point.
“So you’re telling me our whole enemies-to-bed buddies thing is a sham?” she asks.
“No, not at all. I still don’t like you, Prince. You broke my fragile teenage heart.”
“Nice.”
“But I’d like to call a truce for a while,” I say, reaching for her.
“I’d like that.” She wraps herself around me, something she’s never done before.
“Now, come upstairs with me, woman. I want you naked and screaming my name before dinner.”
“You are awfully bossy. You think you can just order me around and tell me what to do for the promise of an orgasm?”
“I don’t know, can I?”
“Yes, but that’s beside the point.”
“Go,” I demand.
Her eyes are wicked when she says, “Make me.”
Aria is real and genuine and it takes my damn breath away. The control she gives to me is the ultimate aphrodisiac. She looks at me now with those hooded eyes just waiting for me to make my next move.
And I have no problem with that.
ARIA
Each time I cross the threshold at the beach house, I feel a weight lifted. It’s become my reprieve from daily pressures and responsibilities, and from the burden to be a certain way or act a certain way. It’s my haven. My own clubhouse where I make the rules.
This time when we – I have to say make love, because that’s what it feels like – it is slow and sweet and emotional.
After, we’re quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s welcome. And when our bodies reach out for another touch, another connection, we tangle up all over again.
“This is bad,” I say as we spread out on Tristan’s bed completely spent.
“Bad, are you crazy?” Tris asks.
“It’s so bad. I don’t think I could say no to you if I tried. It can’t be a good thing to give up control all the time, no matter how much I love it.”
“You love it?” he asks with so much emotion, it makes me melt a little.
I might love more than just our sex life. A thought I don’t want to admit just yet.
“That’s what you haven’t quite figured out yet, Ari.” He places a soft kiss in each palm. “You have all the control.”
“That’s not what it sounded like a few minutes ago.”
“That’s me helping you let go – only while we’re together this way. You have a submissive side to you sexually and I have a dominant side. I want to help you, make it easier on you. Give you the most possible pleasure I can. I’m here to serve; give you what you need. You hold all the power.”
“I guess I never thought about it that way.”
“It’s true,” he says.
“In that case.” I fling myself on top of him. “I demand we go again.”
***
When we’re finally done, my stomach releases a loud growl that reminds us of the one body part we’ve neglected.
“Beat around the bush, why don’t you.” Tristan laughs.
“Sorry, I guess I didn’t get much of a chance to eat today.”
He regards me in a softer way just then.
“How is that possible when you work in a diner and live above said diner?” he asks.
“Ah, let’s see, work, classes, studying, caring for my child, cleaning, laundry.” I realize I’m going off on a tangent, so I lighten up. “And that was before lunchtime. About the time you’re on your third cup of coffee.”
Tristan stands and yanks me off the bed. He slides into a pair of sweats and covers me in a fresh T-shirt, before pulling me downstairs into the kitchen, where he takes out two plates and and four white boxes from the fridge.
He didn’t.
With a wink, he reaches inside for a cream cheese puff and runs it under my nose.
Oh yes, he did.
My hand clamps down on his wrist. I eat it right from his hand, not caring one bit that it’s cold. It’s been ages since I’ve had good Chinese food.
“So back to my life of leisure,” he says, feeding me another puff. “I’ll see you your study time and waiting tables for my weekly payroll and supplies orders for Windows Unlimited. And I raise you one bath, breakfast, and workout for an ornery old man. And that was all complete by, ahem, ten a.m.”
“You are actually taking care of Pauly?” I ask, using our pet name for his dad. Adding the y to the end of that grump’s name always made us laugh.
“I told you that.” Tris says.
“Yeah, I guess you did, but I just assumed that you had help.”
“I do. We have nurses check in, and Heddy of course, who is a godsend to give me Wednesdays off. Shit, if she only knew what we were up to out here.”
“Stop.” I push him. “Seriously, you get him ready and feed him and do PT?”
“Don’t look at me like that, Ari. It’s not all out of the goodness of my heart. There’s something in it for me.”
“Still.”
“Come on, load up your plate,” he says. “I’ve always wanted to eat in bed.”
I pile mine with the cream cheese puffs, lo mein, and garlic beef, ignoring the fact that he picked up all my favorites. It’s probably just a coincidence.
Yeah, right.
TRISTAN
Aria becomes more like the girl I used to know with each passing Wednesday. The other day, she giggled – something I hadn’t heard since we were in high school. There was so much joy and elation in the sound.
And let’s face it, there has never been two more sexually compatible people. It’s that reasoning I use to
explain the uneasiness I feel when she’s not in my bed.
It’s not the woman, it’s the sex. That becomes my mantra, because I don’t want it to end. When we’re together it’s precious and raw and so fucking fantastic, I’m hard for days simply reliving the memory.
As I get ready for class, I realize I’m happier than I’ve ever been. Though the one-day-a-week situation has become grating. It wears me down with a physical ache, waiting to see Aria, to touch her.
We both know our arrangement has become so much more, but neither of us is ready to face it. Like last week, I made us dinner: steaks on the grill. No sense in eating alone, especially when we both needed our energy for the evening activities. Aria made the salad and set the table, and it was just so normal. I even found myself wishing the little dude was joining us.
Then, as we were sitting at the table talking about our days, she leaned over and started cutting my steak. I sat back and watched her do it, in awe. She was in mommy mode without even realizing it.
After she got half of the beef in squared cubes for me, awareness flashed across her face. It quickly morphed into heated embarrassment. “Oh my God,” she said, hiding her face. “I can’t believe I just cut your food like you’re a toddler.”
“I actually quite like it,” I told her. “Faster this way, so we can get to other things.
“You mean I didn’t ruin you for life with that move?” she joked. “It has to be quite the mood killer.”
She was so wrong. It was endearing and sweet. That is the real Aria and I want more of her. All of her. She has a child and is responsible for so much, but here with me, she trusts completely. And it only increases my possessive nature.
Wednesdays are no longer enough.
Later that morning in the commons, the sight of Aria takes my breath away. Wearing a sundress with her hair in a long braid, she sits in the grass looking like a picture. It takes all my self-control not to climb on top of that tight body and pound it into the ground.
She looks up and her cheeks flush as if she knows what I’m thinking.
You see far too much, Aria Prince.
Her anatomy book is open and brings all sorts of wicked thoughts into my head.
