The Billionaire's Kiss (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 14)

by Christina Tetreault

  Her fingers on his neck went back to work. Or maybe they’d never stopped. He didn’t know. Hell, with Juliette practically sitting in his lap, he wasn’t even sure of the day of the week.

  “Should I take that as a yes?” A smile pulled at the corners of her lips, ruining the serious tone of her voice.

  Aaron kissed the skin just below her ear and smiled when she trembled. “Yeah, I’d say that’s a safe assumption.”

  During the off-season, when his mom had a lot of time on her hands, she spent a decent amount of it baking. Thanks to his proximity to her, he was usually the recipient of those baked goods, a situation he rather enjoyed. Her most recent delivery was a mixed-berry pie. Although she’d only dropped it off yesterday before heading to Boston, less than half remained now thanks to his and Juliette’s efforts.

  “This is so good.” Her lips closed around the fork, and he held back a groan at the sight.

  They’d ended their marathon make-out session a good fifteen minutes ago, and his body wanted to know why he was indulging in pie rather than something far more pleasurable. Despite the erection pressing against the zipper of his jeans—one that showed no signs of going away anytime soon—he didn’t regret ending their previous activity before they went any farther.

  Before he thought better of it, he tucked several strands of hair behind her ear. Thanks to his fingers, the neat ponytail she’d had before was a bit of a loose mess, with more hair out of the band holding it back than in it. And now that he’d touched her again, he wanted to kiss her. If he did that at the moment, he might not be able to stop without seeing just how far she’d let him go.

  And that wasn’t him.

  Aaron always waited until he knew a woman better before becoming intimate with her, no matter how attracted he was to her. Sometimes it was easier than other times. But nothing like tonight. Rather than spend time getting to know Juliette the person, he wanted to lay her on the floor by the fire, strip her naked, and get to know her body better. Then worry about getting to know everything else about her later.

  Food. The topic saved him earlier. Maybe it’d help him out again. “It’s even better heated with some vanilla ice cream.”

  “Or maybe whipped cream.”

  An image what else might be delectable covered in whipped cream popped up as he met her eyes. The camping lantern on the table provided sufficient lighting, and her expression hinted that she knew exactly where his thoughts had gone.

  Is she trying to torture me? Before he suggested they get out a can and use it, he gulped down the rest of his wine. “Ice cream is much better.” He refilled his glass before adding more to hers.

  “Next time we have pie, we’ll have to try both and then decide.” With a smile, she took a sip from her glass. “Since you’re not going into Boston this week, does that mean you’re free at night?”

  “Mondays I usually stay here with Tiegan while Candace is at class. But I don’t have any plans for the rest of the week.” He didn’t have to stay with Tiegan on Mondays either. His mom could do it, but unless he was traveling for work like earlier this month or in Boston, he handled Monday nights, and his mom covered Wednesdays.

  “Good. Then maybe we can do something on Tuesday.”

  She’d rented all the available cottages and, as far as he knew, hadn’t ventured even into the grocery store. He might be wrong, but that told him she didn’t want anyone to know she was in Avon. If they went to George’s Diner or the movies, it wouldn’t be long before everyone knew she was visiting town. She must know that. Then again, as soon as Caryn Ferguson started showing her homes, half the town would know Juliette was staying at the campground anyway. Caryn might be a top-notch real estate agent, but she liked to be the center of attention, a trait the agent had passed on to her daughter, a woman Aaron had known since preschool. Telling everyone she’d not only met but was helping supermodel Juliette Belmont find a home would provide Caryn with the limelight, if even just for a little while.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  If possible, the smile she gave him brightened the room more than the lantern on the table.

  “When we’re done eating, if you want to call it a night, I’ll get you some blankets from upstairs. If you’d rather use my bedroom, you can, and I’ll sleep on the sofa. I can go up and change the sheets, but it won’t be as warm as the living room.” He had a fourth unoccupied bedroom upstairs; however, it lacked a bed. Instead, his sister used it as a place to study.

  “Down here is fine. But I’m not ready for bed yet. We haven’t finished our chess game.”

  Chess took a certain level of concentration, something he didn’t have. After the way they’d kissed earlier, he hoped she didn’t either. If she did, he’d done something wrong and needed to rectify the situation.

  Securing his arms around her, he moved onto his back and brought her down on top of him. “Let’s finish it tomorrow.” Tonight he wanted to focus whatever brain activity he had left on her.

  Chapter 9

  Opening his eyes, Aaron stared at the ceiling, momentarily confused by why he didn’t see the ceiling fan above him. Then the reason for the missing fan came to him. He was in the living room, not his bedroom. More specifically, he was in a sleeping bag on the living room floor.

  He could’ve gone upstairs last night and spent a far more comfortable evening in his bed. If he’d been alone, he more than likely would’ve done that after putting out the fire in the woodstove and then rekindled it in the morning if he needed it. And if his usual housemates had been there, he would’ve slept on the sofa so the fire in the woodstove wasn’t unattended while they retreated upstairs and slept in their beds and benefited from the heat rising to the upper level of the house. But last night he hadn’t been alone, and his niece and sister weren’t the ones keeping him company. Although he’d never had any issues with the woodstove, he didn’t want to leave a fire going while he went upstairs, and Juliette remained down here. If it had been his sister on the sofa, he would’ve considered it. Candace had grown up using the woodstove, and more importantly, he knew how she’d react in case of an emergency. For all he knew, this was the first time his current guest had ever used anything but central heating for warmth. Rather than take any unnecessary risks, he’d dug his sleeping bag out and slept downstairs on the floor. Not surprisingly, his dog slept in one of the overstuffed armchairs rather than join him. Aaron didn’t blame him. And if there’d been any way for him to fit his entire body on a chair, he would’ve too, because the chair was far more comfortable than the hardwood floor.

  Is the power back? He hoped so. He enjoyed the outdoors and camping as much as anyone, but going without electricity when you chose to sleep in a tent was one thing. At times like this, it was altogether different. Not to mention the fact that his niece hated the dark, and she’d be home tomorrow. Every night, she slept with a nightlight, the brightest one he’d ever seen, turned on. And since they’d moved in with him, they hadn’t lost power for more than an hour or two, and never when it affected Tiegan going to bed. If bedtime rolled around tomorrow night and she couldn’t use it, he didn’t know what she would do. Then, of course, there was his current house guest to consider. She hadn’t complained yesterday, but it’d been clear she wasn’t used to roughing it in the least.

  Rather than get up and find out if the lights worked, Aaron readjusted the pillow under his head and turned his thoughts to the previous evening—or, more specifically, to what had transpired starting at dinnertime and ending before he climbed into his sleeping bag.

  If someone had told him he’d find himself on the sofa with his lip pressed against hers and Juliette’s hands under his shirt caressing his skin, he would’ve laughed in their face. But he’d spent a portion of his night in just such a position. When their lips hadn’t been touching, they’d talked. He didn’t recall all of their conversations, but he remembered her telling him more about her plans to purchase a home in town and open a dance school. He didn’t know if she’d go t
hrough with it. She might spend some time looking at property and realize she couldn’t handle spending more than a few weeks in Avon. If she did, he couldn’t blame her.

  He loved the town, but once in a while even he found it too small and, well, dull. And he’d lived here much of his life. Juliette lived in New York City, arguably one of the busiest cities in the world. Regardless of the time or the day of the week, a person could find something to do there. Here, even at noon on a Saturday, it could be tough to find a way to occupy your time, especially during the cold winter months.

  Whatever happens, happens. Juliette might wake up this morning, turn in her key to the cottage, and head back to New York, especially if faced with another day of no hot water. If she did, he’d have some pleasant memories from last night, and his life would go on.

  Thud. Aaron bolted upright at the sound, and all thoughts of what Juliette might do vanished.

  “Ouch.” The word quickly followed the sound.

  “Are you okay?” He’d left his flannel pajama bottoms and T-shirt on when he climbed into his sleeping bag last night, so he didn’t need to worry about pulling on clothes after he stood. Even still, Clifford reached her side before he did.

  “Yeah.” She moved into a sitting position on the floor and scratched the dog near his collar.

  In his thirty-four years, he’d never been jealous of a dog until now. Instead of giving his dog attention, he wanted her to be giving him some more of the attention she’d given him yesterday. “Are you sure?” He knelt on the floor next to her.

  “I fell off the sofa, not Mount Everest. I’m fine. Really.” She blew some hair away from her face and moved back to her original location on the sofa. “I’m used to having a little more room at night.”

  Aaron sat down next to her before his dog got any ideas and jumped into the spot—something the furry guy would do in a heartbeat if it meant a belly rub or scratch behind the ears.

  He hadn’t heard her during the night, but that didn’t mean she’d had a great sleep either. “Other than your unpleasant wake-up call, did you sleep okay?” He’d slept on the sofa a few times. While not as comfortable as his bed upstairs, he’d slept on far worse in hotel rooms.

  “Didn’t wake up once. How about you?”

  He’d woken up a handful of times to check on the fire but had fallen back to sleep quickly. “Not bad.”

  Curious whether he could make some coffee or if he’d have to settle for tea again, Aaron tried the lamp on the table. It didn’t surprise him when nothing happened. When they spoke yesterday, Robby had told him not to expect power back anytime soon.

  “Looks like coffee is out this morning. Do you want some tea? Or hot chocolate.” Next time he went to the store, maybe he should pick up some instant coffee. He preferred even the instant stuff to hot tea.

  Juliette brushed her lips against his cheek, waking him up better than any caffeinated beverage ever would. “Tea, please.”

  Standing up, she stretched her arms over her head, and the hem of her shirt rose several inches, exposing a strip of flesh. And as if she’d waved a magic wand, the erection he’d gone to bed with returned. Before he gave in to the temptation and checked to see if the skin on display was as soft as the skin on her arms, he clenched his hands into fists.

  “I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” she said, dropping her arms to her sides and removing the temptation from view.

  He watched her walk away. Even dressed in a pair of knit pajama bottoms and a New England Rebels sweatshirt, she had the power to make him feel like a fifteen-year-old who’d never had sex. If she ever tried to turn him on, he might not survive.

  Aaron pushed himself off the sofa. As if he knew where Aaron intended to go, Clifford jumped to the floor and took a few steps toward the hall. “You’ve got a one-track mind there, my friend.”

  Then again, some might say the same thing about him. Yep, his thoughts, including his dreams last night, had focused on nothing but Juliette since her lips touched his yesterday.

  Liar. Even before they’d kissed, she had starring roles in several of his dreams.

  Juliette heard her cell phone ring while washing her face, so before heading to the kitchen, she made a pit stop back in the living room. A quick look at the screen showed she had two voice mail messages.

  She played the message from Curt first. In it, he explained that, like much of the state, Pelham didn’t have any power, but his house had a generator, so she was more than welcome to come and stay with him until things returned to normal. She’d call him back later after she decided whether to take him up on the offer. If electricity didn’t return sometime today, she’d rather not return to her icebox of a cottage. At the same time, she didn’t know if Aaron would want her spending another night here. And even if he offered her another night on the sofa, she didn’t want to abuse his kindness.

  The second voice mail, the one she’d received last night, was from her mom. They hadn’t spoken in about a week, but like with the first message, Juliette didn’t feel any immediate need to return the call. She also found a text message from Holly waiting for her. According to the time stamp, it’d come in around eight last night, but she hadn’t heard the distinct chime she set for when she received texts. Then again, she’d been pleasantly occupied much of the evening. And if left up to her, she’d be busy in much the same manner for part of today.

  Rather than ignore the message, she typed a short reply promising to call later as she walked toward the kitchen.

  When she reached the doorway, she stopped. Aaron stood at the counter slicing up fresh strawberries. Two coffee mugs were set out just waiting to be filled with hot water. And behind him, a teakettle sat on the stove, a slight stream of steam escaping from it, suggesting that the water would be boiling soon.

  “Since I’m already boiling water, I’m making oatmeal for breakfast. We have some fresh fruit too.” He looked up from his task. “But if you don’t want that, I can make you eggs.”

  Had a man ever cooked her breakfast? She didn’t remember any. Of course, she doubted many of her past boyfriends knew how to turn on a stove, let alone cook even something as simple as oatmeal.

  Boyfriend? Could she assign the term to the man in front of her? They’d kissed, but she didn’t consider every man she kissed a boyfriend. She’d carried on with a man much the way she had with Aaron last night and then never saw him again. And she’d had a few one-night stands, although there were very few people she’d ever share that information with. So nothing about the night before guaranteed a relationship between her and Aaron loomed on the horizon. And just because he stood there cooking breakfast didn’t mean he wanted her around all day. What had taken place between them last night could’ve been a way for him to pass the time, since watching television was impossible. At this very moment, he might be slicing strawberries and praying the power switched on so he could show her the door and then turn on a movie or basketball game.

  Her intuition told her otherwise though. Aaron didn’t come across as the type to engage in any kind of intimacy simply because he needed a way to pass the time. No, she sensed he would’ve suggested they get back to their chess game after dinner to occupy their time instead.

  She hadn’t come up here looking for any type of relationship or even wanting one. But she hadn’t expected to meet Aaron, a man who sliced up strawberries for her to eat with breakfast and slept on the floor so she could have the sofa.

  “Oatmeal sounds good.” She came around the counter and snagged a strawberry slice off the plate. “Anything I can do to help?” She popped the berry in her mouth. Before she could lick the lingering juice off her fingers, Aaron reached for her hand.

  “Nah, I’m all set,” he said, raising her hand to his mouth and sucking the juice off her index finger. He held her gaze as he did the same with her middle finger.

  Well, she doubted he wanted her to leave so he could watch television. In the living room, her bladder had stopped her from giving him the type
of kiss she wanted. That no longer remained an issue. Slipping an arm around his waist, she kissed the right corner of his mouth. Then she kissed the other side.

  “I don’t think I said good morning.” Juliette pulled her face away from his just enough to see his eyes. She found a unique combination of humor and heat reflecting back at her.

  Aaron shook his head. “Your first word this morning was ‘ouch.’” He settled a hand on either side of her waist and aligned their bodies against each other. Then he smiled. And if she’d had a fan handy, she would’ve used it as a wave of heat and excitement zapped her all the way to her painted toenails.

  She moistened her suddenly dry lips and attempted to form words. “Well, good morning.” Rather than touch her mouth to his, she ran her tongue along his bottom lip before pressing her open lips against his.

  Home. The word fluttered through her thoughts like a butterfly in a flower garden. She couldn’t explain it, but right then, it was as if she’d been waiting for this man to come into her life. As if she belonged in Aaron’s arms, kissing him, and not anywhere else.

  The whistling kettle cut through the silence in the room, and she’d never hated an inanimate object more than just then.

  Slowly, he pulled back. “Remember where we were so we can finish later.”

  Oh, she’d remember, no question about it. She’d also spend some time later processing whatever she’d just felt. She’d experienced excitement and lust while kissing a man enough to recognize it. While both emotions had been present just now, an entirely new and unique emotion had trumped both.