by Tawny Weber
The truth about the Professor’s health wasn’t being broadcast, but Aiden figured most people here had guessed there was something wrong. Enough people to make that threat a viable one.
“That’s blackmail,” Sage observed, obviously reaching the same conclusion.
“Yep,” Aiden agreed with a sigh. It only took him a brief moment to calculate the options. “Might as well go along.”
It’d be easier to get out of whatever the group had planned once they were at a different location. Again, on the same wavelength as him, after a brief glance at him Sage heaved a huge, dramatic sigh, held out both wrists to the crowd and tossed back her head.
“Fine. Take us away,” she instructed.
And away they were taken. Blindfolded, escorted to a minivan, of all things, and if Aiden’s instincts were right—and they always were—driven five miles to the east before being escorted into, from what he could tell from looking out the bottom of his blindfold, a small resort hotel.
Apparently having already checked in, someone opened the hotel room door.
“Go ahead and take off your scarves,” Gary ordered, giving them a gentle push inside.
At his limit of playing nice, Aiden whipped his off in half a second. Sage was a little slower, giving him a much-too-tempting vision of her blindfolded.
“All-expenses-paid engagement celebration for two. The hotel, champagne and room service are on us,” Gary said, grinning from the door as he dangled the key. “We’ll be back to get you tomorrow night.”
“There are toiletries and, um, you know, stuff, in the bathroom,” Cailley called over his shoulder. If the wicked laughter from the peanut gallery was any indication, the stuff should be interesting.
And play havoc on Aiden’s rule number four.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Gary warned before closing the door on the heckling crowd.
And just like that, they were alone.
Aiden looked at Sage, whose expression was somewhere between amused and shell-shocked.
“Should we save these?” Sage asked with a breathless laugh, waving their blindfolds in the air. “Maybe play a little naughty game later?”
Aiden ignored her. Harder to ignore was the image of Sage, naked, blindfolded and tied to that huge bed.
Control, Masters. You’re a strong man, keep it in check.
The warning didn’t seem to go beyond his brain, though. His body was definitely ignoring it.
“Did you know they were planning this?” he asked, watching her face carefully.
“I knew they were up to something, but I figured they were planning a naughty bridal shower or something. You know, with male strippers, lingerie and bar-hopping in a limo.” She looked around the room, her expression a study in amused delight. “But can you believe this? It’s like pretty awesome, isn’t it?”
“It’s a regular sex-fest,” he said, his gaze not shifting. He’d seen enough when they walked in—or were hauled in, rather. Besides the stuff Cailley had mentioned, there was champagne on ice, a tray of fruit, a variety of body oils and what looked like hot fudge. He’d have to check the closet for sex toys and leather.
“Well, then,” he mused, moving to the window to shift the curtains and check if their friends had left. “This should be interesting.”
It wasn’t that far of a walk back to town. But the possibility of being spotted was high, and Sage’s flimsy sandals were hardly conducive to a five-mile hike at night.
He had enough cash for a cab. But their friends would know if they returned to town. If he knew Gary, the guy had a snitch in the hotel, too.
“Because I’d say we’re stuck here until tomorrow,” he told her. Puffing out a breath, Aiden dropped onto the couch. It was short, but comfy. He’d slept in worse places.
“Thank you,” Sage said quietly, sliding the scarf back and forth between her fingers.
“For?”
“For tonight. For going along. For, you know,” she gestured vaguely toward the west and the general direction of her father’s house, “for playing devoted fiancé. I know this wasn’t easy for you.”
“It’s not like it was torture to pretend to be engaged to you,” he disagreed with a shrug. “Besides, it was actually great hanging out with everyone again. It’s been awhile.”
He’d forgotten what it was like to be a part of a group that went back, many of them, to kindergarten. The camaraderie, the verbal shorthand, the simple acceptance.
He hadn’t realized how tightly he’d been wound the last few years—hell, the last dozen years—until this week, when he’d finally unwound.
He looked at the woman across from him, realizing it was more because of her than anything else that he felt so relaxed. So at peace.
“So, what shall we do for the next thirty or so hours?” Sage mused in a husky voice as she wandered. Her eyes never left his as she skimmed her fingers over the champagne. She took a strawberry from the tray and bit into it, the juice glistening on her lips. When she reached the hot fudge, she dipped one finger in, then sucked it clean.
The image, and the message, damn near killed Aiden.
He wasn’t an idiot.
He knew the heat, the attraction and passion between them was incendiary. They could fight it, of course. But Sage clearly didn’t want to.
Did he?
He’d come home wondering what the hell mattered in his life. What was real and solid and enduring. Was it just the situation that had him thinking that Sage might be all of that? And if she was, would sex between them make it stronger? Or flat-out destroy it?
He wasn’t sure he cared, though.
Not anymore.
* * *
EXCITEMENT, NERVES and delight danced a wild jig in Sage’s tummy. The evening had been a lot of fun. The champagne she’d drunk earlier was still bubbling, light and happy in her head.
And Aiden was looking at her like he wanted to lick her from lips to toes and back again. Ever since last week when he’d kissed her crazy on his coffee table, she’d been dreaming of seeing that look again.
Wishing.
Hoping.
Planning what she’d do if she saw it, even as she tried to talk herself out of wanting it so much.
And now that it was there, gleaming in his hazel eyes...
She figured it was time to get moving.
“So, I guess this is what they’d call a prehoneymoon practice session,” she said, dipping her finger in the hot fudge again and walking over to offer him a taste.
He looked at her, then the fudge, then back at her.
“I didn’t poison it,” she pointed out, rolling her eyes.
“I’m not hungry.”
Oooh. Sage giggled. A challenge.
She loved playing.
“But it’s yummy,” she said, tapping the cooling chocolate against his lower lip. “Aren’t you just a little hungry?”
She stuck her finger into her mouth, swirled her tongue and licked it clean. His pulse jumped in his throat. Yeah, he was hungry.
“It’s delicious. Are you sure you’re not just a little hungry?” She moved closer, resting her unchocolatey hand against his chest for balance, stepped on tiptoe and licked the chocolate off his lip. “Mmm, yeah. Delicious.”
“You’re playing with fire,” he warned.
“Yummy and hot,” she promised.
“This is a bad idea,” Aiden said, even as his hands skimmed under her skirt, searching for warmth. She closed her eyes when he found it, moaning softly as he slid his fingers along the wet fabric of her panties.
“It feels good to me,” she breathed, kissing her way along the strong angle of his jaw, then skimming her lips down his throat to that sensitive spot at the base of his neck.
A thrill zinged through her when he stiffened.
She loved making him react. Loved even more when that reaction meant things got hard.
“Once we do this, we can’t go back,” he murmured. As if he wanted to make sure she was c
ompletely aware of the consequences, he pulled back. Both his hand from her panties, and his neck from her amazing lips.
Sage sighed, then gave him an impatient look.
She’d been having fun and he was definitely interrupting.
“We’re messing with our friendship, Sage. We’re changing everything if we do this.”
Rarely felt frustration, the kind that teetered right there on the edge of anger, surged through Sage.
Dammit, she was so close. So, so close.
Her orgasm was right there, just out of reach.
And Aiden whose fingers it was dangling from.
She needed this. She needed the delight and the fun and the power of losing herself in sex.
She needed this connection with Aiden. Fake fiancé or not, he was the only person who knew what she was going through.
She got why he was hesitating. She understood the ramifications of their stepping over that line.
It’d change their relationship.
They couldn’t go back.
It might impact her father later if they couldn’t be in the same room together.
Blah blah blah.
She didn’t care.
That was all future stuff. She’d worry about it then.
She wanted to feel good now.
With that in mind, she shifted, moving closer to Aiden and sliding her leg up and down the length of his. The fabric of his slacks against her bare skin was delicious. But nowhere near as delicious as the feel of his hands on her.
She wanted more.
She wanted it all.
And she was going to get it.
“You’re so sweet to worry about us,” she told him quietly, tracing her finger over his lip and giving him her most appreciative look.
“Sweet. Right.”
She took comfort at the pain in his voice. And the steel rod of an erection pressing against her thigh.
“You’re the careful one. The planner.” When he narrowed his eyes, as if trying to figure out what she was up to, she fluttered her lashes. “I’m the emotional one. The leap-and-forget-to-look one.”
“Okay,” he said, sounding like he was agreeing, but conditionally.
“But here’s what you need to ask yourself. Really, how good of friends were we anyway?” she asked with a teasing smile. “I mean, what are we potentially giving up here? We see each other once every two or three years, we live in totally different parts of the world, and our only tie is my father.”
“You’re justifying,” he warned.
She sighed, a deep breath that thrust her breasts against his chest. It felt so good, his hard muscles against her equally hard nipples. She almost groaned when he shifted away.
Damn him.
He wasn’t going to simply let their passion take over.
Nope, he was going to make her justify her position, clarify their situation and agree to some stupid thing that would make him feel like he had an escape hatch.
A part of her wanted to.
She wanted him that much.
But for once, she didn’t want to shortchange herself by giving the guy everything and asking for nothing in return. Been there, done that, have the angst-filled past to prove it.
This was Aiden. He knew her. Inside and out.
He either understood and accepted her, including all the baggage this might bring. Or he didn’t.
And if he didn’t, well, she’d simply have to make him.
Because she was getting that orgasm, dammit.
“Aiden, tell me the truth. A simple yes or no answer will suffice. Or, in your case, one grunt for yes, two for no.” She moved back, away from the warm temptation of his body.
It would have been nice if he didn’t look so relieved, but hey, she’d take care of that. A couple of buttons and a tug of one bow and, in a slinky swish of fabric, she stood bare, except for her bra and panties. The rich-purple satin and lace cupped her breasts and hugged her hips in a mouthwatering invitation.
His eyes glazed over, and his jaw dropped. Just a tiny bit, but enough to give her ego a lovely boost and her heart an excited leap.
“Aiden?” she prompted.
“What?” he grunted.
“Yes or no?”
He ripped his gaze from her body, and with a deep breath, met her eyes.
“What?” he asked again.
“Yes?” Sage pointed to her body, then using the side of her hand, waved it from chest to thigh.
He audibly swallowed as his eyes followed along.
“Or no?” She pulled her fingers into her palm and used her thumb to gesture over her shoulder to the door and its safe exit.
This time he didn’t look where she pointed.
Instead, he looked right into her eyes.
All of a sudden, the game was scary serious.
It was Sage’s swallow that echoed through the room now.
Her heart that beat a mile a minute, pounding so hard she was surprised she didn’t pass out.
Her body ached with need, but at the same time, her toes twitched with the urge to run.
Because Aiden’s face had just gotten serious.
“It’s gonna get ugly,” he told her, coming nearer. Not touching, but so close she could feel the heat of his body wrapping around her.
“Sex between us is going to be ugly?” she asked, her hands lifting in front of his chest. Following his lead, she didn’t touch. Just ran them along his body as if she were testing his energy field.
“Sex between us is going to be mind-blowing,” he said, his words low. His eyes were like fire, so hot and tempting as they looked into hers. “It’s going to be so good, you’ll never forget it. You’ll never get over it. It’s going to be addicting sex. Make-you-come-in-ten-years-just-at-the-memory-of-it sex.”
“Oh, my,” Sage whimpered. She had to press her thighs tightly together, they were trembling so much. The move squeezed the swollen folds of her throbbing clitoris, sending shivers of delight through her body.
“It’s going to be that good,” he promised, his hand skimming over her hair. Light as a whisper, but she felt his touch through her entire being.
“And the messy part?”
“When this engagement is over, so is all that great sex,” he told her.
And there it was. His escape hatch.
Sage considered telling him no. That she wasn’t willing to limit things to just this moment. That if something incredible happened, if magic sparked between them, she wanted to be able to pursue it.
But if she did, he’d take his heat and leave.
So she did the smartest thing she could.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her body tight against his and took his mouth with all of the need, all of the passion and desire inside her.
And dared him to resist.
8
AIDEN CONSIDERED HIMSELF a very smart man. Not one who often gave in to impulse. Decisions—especially big ones—required careful thought, strategic planning and a vigilant consideration of all possible outcomes.
Ignoring any of that often led to mistakes.
Even regrets.
Intellectually, he knew this was exactly that. One of those impulsive mistakes that would lead to regrets.
But intellect took a backseat to the pounding desire and the clawing, aching need engulfing his body right now.
His mouth moved over Sage’s. She was so soft. So damned sweet. The rich intensity of chocolate coated her lips, but the addicting flavor was all Sage. His tongue delved deep, but he knew he’d never get enough.
Not of tasting her.
Not of touching her.
His hands skimmed, featherlight, over her shoulders. Her skin was so soft, a vivid contrast against the lace of her bra. He cupped his palm over her full breast, groaning at the feel of her as her flesh filled his hand.
She whimpered, a tiny mewling sound that echoed through his head. She scraped her nails down his biceps, curving her fingers over the hard muscles and maki
ng another sound—this one appreciation—that made Aiden want to flex and give thanks for the intensive SEAL PT he went through on a daily basis.
“You have the most incredible body,” she whispered, her hands roaming his chest now. “I could spend hours worshipping it.”
“Babe, I was thinking the exact same thing.” To prove it, he skimmed one hand down the gentle curve of her spine before sliding it back up and unsnapping her bra. A flick of one finger, then another over the straps and he felt it ripple between their bodies on the way to the floor.
“You’re so hard,” she breathed, pressing open-mouthed kisses along his shoulder as her hands roamed his biceps again. “Hard, delicious muscles.”
“You’re so soft,” he countered, his fingers tracing the delicate coral areola of one full breast before he rubbed his thumb over her nipple. It hardened gratifyingly fast, pebbling against his thumb, making him groan.
“Hard, solid shoulders,” she murmured, her hands pressing, flat-palmed, over his shoulders before sweeping down his chest. She curved her fingers, scraping her nails over his nipples on her way down, then again on the trip back up.
“Soft, delicate breasts,” he breathed, cupping both in his hands, his thumbs working the nipples as he weighed the tantalizing globes.
Needing more, he lowered his head to sip at one nipple, then the other. So as not to leave either feeling bereft, he worked one with his mouth while his thumb teased the other. Teeth scraped, his tongue laved. The already hard nubbins sharpened into rock-hard pebbles of desire.
Sage’s fingers clenched and unclenched, digging into his waist now as her breath quickened. Her hips squirmed as she tried to move closer.
As if she couldn’t stand the barrier, she pushed his shirt away, forcing him to let go of his bounty long enough to get his arms free of the sleeves. She fumbled with his belt, her hands rubbing over his rock-hard erection as she tried to free him.
She was driving him crazy.
Being an equal-opportunity lover, he figured it was only fair to drive her crazy, too. A task he took quite seriously.
He skimmed his fingers along the elastic of her panties. It only took a push to send them sliding down her legs.
“I’m naked,” she noted.
“Mmm,” he agreed, stepping back to get a good look.
