35. Gemma
THIRTY-FIVE
GEMMA
Don’t worry, Aaron catches me, like he apparently always does these days.
His soft chuckle hits my ear as he does, his forearm banding around my ribcage to keep me on my feet, and I grip it with both hands, staring up in awe.
“You built a fucking treehouse ?” I practically squeak.
“I mean, I didn’t build it. Those guys from that one TV show did,” he says, trying to sound humble but definitely a low-key brag at the same time.
My head turns behind me to face him, jaw slack, eyes wide. “When on earth did you—how did you—Stone!” I manage to get one word out, at least.
He chuckles again, stepping back from me, head dropping to look down at the ground for a second. One of his booted feet toes the dirt and grass, then his focus is back to me.
“We finished filming the final bit today, actually.” He jerks a thumb in the direction of the monstrous creation. “I, uh, I told him I wanted to recreate my favorite childhood hangout. I kept our story private, but I gave him enough to go off of that they were able to make it feel a bit like our old hideout.”
The shy smile that tugs at his mouth is begging to be tasted, but I can tell he’s too excited to show me what’s waiting for me in this “treehouse”—I’d definitely be more inclined to call it a cabin in the sky, even from the looks of it here at ground level. So I bite back what I really want and let him.
“Show. Me. Everything,” I tell him, taking one of his hands with both of mine.
He leads me to the ramp excitedly, walking me up the curved entrance. Bushes of peonies in so many colors line the walkway, the base of the structure, and my eyes can’t take it all in fast enough. They shouldn’t even be in bloom in October, he must’ve had these imported or something. That realization does things for me.
At the top of the ramp, we come out onto a pretty spacious balcony, maybe we’d even call this a deck. It feels a lot like the platform we used to shoot the shit on as kids. The views on this one are insane, though. All I can see are treetops, for miles, where they fade and blend into the stunning rolling greenery of the Blue Ridge Mountains.
We’re below the tallest of the treetops on his property, but high enough to have the most gorgeous horizon in sight. This blows our old treehouse out of the water, even if I never went inside it. The sunsets from up here will be ridiculous. We still have another hour or two before it’ll hit today, but I hope we get to soak in every brushstroke of that masterpiece from right here.
There are two natural wood Adirondack chairs out here, a small table between them, and sliding glass doors that lead inside.
Aaron is quite literally bouncing on the balls of his feet with anticipation, excited energy, and it’s fucking contagious.
My grin feels like it rivals the warmth of the sun behind me as I turn to face him and he basks in it. “This is amazing, kid.”
His eyes darken briefly before he nods his head toward the interior of the build, grabs my hand and tells me, “Let’s go.” Of course I go.
The interior is compact, obviously, but for a treehouse? It’s huge. Breathtaking. The stuff dreams are made out of, actually. A dining table for two, a professional-grade coffee machine (yes, it makes lattes) in a little kitchenette that even has power and water—somehow—plus the most inviting, comfortable-looking king bed I’ve ever seen in a room that’s not much larger than the mattress itself. It’s decorated in natural wood tones with off-white accents, linens and bedding, and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful or inviting. I could curl up in this bed for days on end, with no need to leave, except to get more coffee from the kitchen.
Small greenery hangs from several points in each room, inviting more of that outside feel in here with us. There is so much natural light, natural materials everywhere, it’s almost hard to tell where the outdoors ends and the treehouse begins.
The bathroom is tight, but impressively designed and laid out. There’s a full-size toilet, a decent sized sink, and what I can only call the most glamorous shower I’ve ever seen in a treehouse.
He leads me back out into the living space, a cozy little area with a couple of really fat cushions on the floor that just scream curl up and read in me . And sure enough, Aaron points above those cushions to a wall of built-in bookshelves.
“All of those books on your list are up here. I, uh, I was able to track down or order signed copies of almost all of them.” He wrings his hands, looking up at me almost shyly from under those lashes. “Once I realized you were being a little more generous than I’d hoped you’d be with me, and started wishing it might not just be me up here…I had them work in a reading nook into the design. I thought you could have a little getaway up here, if you, ya know, get sick of me or something.” His right hand curves around the back of his neck, rubbing at it anxiously.
My head shakes slowly from side to side, blown away by the thoughtful details, the way he’s created a haven that blends our pasts, and gives us a place to live out our future together.
“You did amazing, kid.”
“Kinda glad I didn’t have to turn this into a nursery overnight, truth be told,” he admits sheepishly, and I cackle at him.
“And if you ever run out of books for me to read…” he starts.
“Never gonna happen, kid, I’ve got a Tbr a mile long for you now that I know what you like,” I tease him, thinking of the last book he finished (a particularly spicy one) that he felt the need to discuss with me—at length, and in great detail. He winks at me, and a flush heats my cheeks instantly.
He motions with his hand to a small table next to one of the cushions, which appears to have a variety of handheld gaming consoles and VR headsets resting there, waiting to be played. I gasp quietly, a little amazed that we can play video games, read, sleep, shower, have coffee, and hopefully never have to leave this place. I wonder if DoorDash could deliver to us back here? Then we’d probably be set, at least in the off-season.
He turns around, facing the other wall of the living space, waving his arm toward what he’s called his final surprise , where I finally notice a record player, and an assortment of vinyls. Framed over the station is what looks like a gold album from New York Ave, with the artwork signed by all the members of the band. When my eyes take in the collection of records, stacked in their own little slot next to the player, I realize it’s all of their albums.
That’s when the tears start to hit me.
He’s taken some of the best things we’ve shared, our favorite pastimes and hobbies, and turned it into an escape for us both. Somewhere we can just be us without any pressures of the outside world, indulge in all of our favorite things, and make new memories together.
My hands start fanning my face rapidly, and I take a few brisk steps to get back out onto the deck, breathing in the fresh air and looking out at the landscape, trying not to break down on him.
Aaron trails behind me, and one of his hands reaches out to touch my arm comfortingly. “This wasn’t supposed to upset you, Gem. If it’s too much, forget I did anything. There’s no pressure, okay?”
I turn around to face him, shaking my head, unable to form words yet, so he keeps talking.
“I’ll wait as long as I have to for you. This was really just so I could feel close to you, even on those days you don’t want to be close to me anymore. This isn’t me making a move on you again, I promised.”
A tear manages to roll down my right cheek, and a small sob breaks free of my chest when the emotion gets to be too much for me. He pulls me into his arms, rubbing his hands up and down my back soothingly.
“Hey,” he whispers against my ear. “No pressure. Whenever you’re ready to give me a chance. I won’t fuck it up again. However long you need, okay? Take your time.”
He pulls back just a little, hands on my arms, taking in the expression on my face. One of those hands comes up and wipes the single tear away from my cheek, and his hand stays cupped there. That face I love so much leans forward, and his lips meet my forehead softly.
It only takes a couple seconds to get my breath back, that overwhelming swell of feelings swallowed down, and I have full clarity once again. I know what it is that I want. What I’ve always wanted.
This man.
This beautiful, caring man who has a bigger heart—even if sometimes it comes out in weird ways—than I know what to do with.
That’s a lie. I want to start by claiming it for myself.
I don’t need to ask him to make that move on me. I’ll take it myself.
My hands come up from under his arms to clasp both sides of his face firmly, and I pull him to me, bringing our mouths together for the first time in our lives in a kiss that’s waited a dozen years to bloom.
He’s stunned motionless, but that’s okay. I’ve been dreaming of what I’d do to this mouth since I first learned about anatomy and all the fun ways to use it.
My lips press against his softly, surely, once, twice, and again. I readjust my hands on his face and go back in, opening my lips the slightest amount as I kiss him, cherishing the plush softness of his mouth, how different it is from the hard lines of his face.
My breath dusts across his skin as I pull back once more, and something like a grunt comes from him.
He shakes his head rapidly, like he’s trying to clear it, and panic strikes into my heart, down into my stomach and my core. That alarm in my head starts to go off, sensing danger.
Is this…not what he wanted after all?
“No,” he says. My heart falls down to my toes, slips down through one of the cracks in between the planks of this deck, and buries itself in the soil twenty feet below. Without his heart in return, I have no use for mine, anyway. Maybe it’ll sprout roots and grow into a statue of sorts, a commemoration to the boy I spent my entire life loving, who never did quite want me back in the same way, even when he thought he did.
He must be able to see the horror, the despair somewhere on my face, because he speaks up rapidly. “Baby, you don’t have to… fuck, I want you to, but you don’t have to do this.”
Relief soars through every cell in my body as realization strikes me, and it’s then I notice how his fists are clenching, the tightness of his jaw, the way his brows are drawn, eyes closed, his breathing controlled like he’s in pain. He’s still fighting this, still thinks he doesn’t deserve happiness yet. But he wants it just as much as I do.
“Aaron.”
His eyes fly open. No sound comes out.
“I want this.”
He starts to shake his head again, but I clamp my hands on either side of it, keeping him in place, his eyes on mine. Getting through to him.
“I want you. Regardless of the treehouse. The gifts inside it. This…homage to our bond. The picture in the magazine this morning. I. Want. You. It’s what I came here today to tell you.”
His eyebrows fly into his hairline, and he still manages to look puzzled.
“You…you want? Are you sure?” Realization dawns across his features, light suffusing all those cloudy parts. “Wait, is this you saying yes?”
“This is me saying yes, Aaron Stone.”
In a single blink, I’m suspended midair, being cocooned by his strong arms and spun around at a speed that would make me dizzy if I wasn’t living for the expression on his face as he whisks us around. If I could capture this moment, turn it into art, and stare at it forever, I’d label the piece giddy af .
As we spin, he places kisses all over my face, the top of my head, my neck and throat, the exposed bit of my shoulder from where my sweater has been tugged aside with the motion— anything he can reach, apparently. The softest, most loving and adoring kisses I’ve ever felt. Everywhere but where I want them.
“Aaron?”
He stops spinning us around and puts me down in front of him, looking at me expectantly. “Mmm?”
“Can you kiss me already?”
This sound I can only call an impatient groan—one that’s raspy, full of need—greets my ears and within another second, one of his huge hands is wrapped around the back of my head and he pulls my face into his. He slowly, slowly takes my mouth with his, closing his lips so softly around my top lip, and I hear another of those groans from him, but this time I feel it against me, too. The response in my body is instant; need floods my system, and I’m clawing at his biceps where they wrap around me.
His mouth moves against mine slowly, so fucking slowly, like he’s sampling an expensive bourbon, trying to appreciate every single hidden note contained within its secret formula. Like he can figure out the age of the barrel if he just takes another slow sip, and then one more for good measure.
I’m ready to just get drunk. Treat this like a frat party, like a game of beer pong. Fuck me up, let me pass out from the instant high of it all. Give the medics a reason to pump my stomach, idc. We have forever to take things slow. Right now? I just want all of him.
Instead, he’s relishing each and every kiss, each tease, like it’s some sort of payback for not getting to partake sooner. And actually, I’m positive this pace will absolutely be the death of me if he keeps this up.
The lips I’ve dreamt about more than I could possibly quantify are on mine, moving in a way even sexier than I dreamed they’d be, commanding me to open for him, and then his tongue touches mine, and I’m putty.
He’s delving, tasting, taking me in, and our mouths are moving together like they were meant to for all these years. I can hardly keep up with the need being created deep within my abdomen from his brand of torture.
While my brain catches up to all of the new experiences my mouth is currently enjoying, my attention spans across the rest of my body—and his, where ours are joined—taking stock of each and every sensation I’m currently reveling in. His hand that isn’t gripping the back of my head is roaming up and down my back, all the way to my hips and back up again, so damn delicate. My hands have found their way to his chest, squished between our torsos, with absolutely no room to breathe between us. I bring the right one up to cradle his jawline, touching him there reverently, still kind of not believing this is my reality, like a waking dream. My left hand traces those muscles under his shirt, the firm pecs there, the indentation between them, and he shivers under my touch.
His tongue is sweeping mine gently, exploring, like he’s mapping it for future excursions; getting to know this part of me intimately, just like he knows the rest of me—all the parts no one else ever has.
Now I need him to get acquainted with the very last bits of me he’s yet to learn. Urgently. Think his need is just as dire as mine, if that hardness pressing into my belly is any indication. He’s just showing a level of self-restraint I don’t think I possess at this point. I need him to snap and join me on this level of desperation.
When he brings the kiss to a close with a satisfied noise from somewhere deep in his throat, I open my eyes to find him staring deep into mine.
“Please,” I beg him. “Please take me to that bed in there and break it and me in.”
His eyes darken with heat, nostrils flaring and jaw clenched as he shakes his head just once.
“God, no, Gem. I’m going to take my time with you. Savor every single second you give yourself to me.”
My eyes flutter backward at his words, that tone, just as my knees give out.
Aaron’s arms are still around me, and he doesn’t let me fall. He does chuckle at me though.
“Fuck, you’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” My voice is a little weak, but can you blame me?
He walks me backward until I’m pressed against the balcony railing, supported by both it and him. My heart beats in triple time out of fear for just a few seconds, until I feel how steady and secure it is underneath the weight of our bodies. And then my heart keeps beating in triple time for a completely different reason.
Aaron’s got his right arm behind my body, holding me to him, while his other hand sneaks around to my front, teasing the skin underneath the hem of my soft sweater, stroking it delicately, and causing shivers to break out all along my midsection. I don’t think I’m the only one that can feel my nipples tighten with how close our chests are pressed together.
He brings his mouth back down to mine, taking my breath away as he brings that one hand farther north, where he touches every inch of me that he can reach, my stomach, my side, all of it reacting to him like it’s a lot more than an innocent area he’s touching.
I don’t know how much oxygen a living person needs to remain conscious, but I know that I’m not getting it. I also know that I don’t fucking care. If this is my time to go, I’m ready. This is all I’ve ever needed, and now that I have it…I’m set.
His mouth moving against mine, that tongue plunging into me with such promise…I’m losing consciousness, but still I’d trade that for more of this, more of him. I might actually faint if he keeps this up, but I am not telling him to stop.
Minutes, hours, maybe lifetimes later, Aaron pulls his mouth away from mine, my face gripped tightly between his hands, both of us gasping for air, my thin body held up against the railing by his firm one. I need him closer, so my hands start clawing at his shoulders, trying to pull him nearer to me. I never want a shred of distance between us again.
Lucky for me, he brings his head even closer still, those swollen, skilled lips of his making their way to the side of my head, where they press against my ear, the hair hanging over it. The contrast of his scratchy jawline against my silk and softness sends another bolt of desire through me, and I shudder to imagine the state of my underwear right now. Rip. You went out in style, old gal.
The voice he uses? I’ve never heard it from him before—not on-screen, not off. It’s raspy, delicious, and I commit it to memory.
“I’ve wanted to taste you so bad, Gem. Been dreaming of getting my mouth between your legs. Getting you off with my tongue. Can I? Please?”
I’m mumbling, murmuring, might be seeing the gates to heaven behind my eyes right now. Doubt anything leaving my mouth is intelligible, but he must’ve heard what he needed to, because he’s chuckling at me again, and that hand finally works its way up to my chest, beneath the material of my shirt. He palms one entire breast firmly (one definite perk of being smaller-chested), before swapping to the other, trailing his fingers down below the thin cup of my bra and rolling my peaked nipple between his finger and thumb. It’s like he’s working me for something, demanding a response from my body, but I don’t know what else he wants from me. I’d give him everything, but he already has it from me. My head falls back, over the railing, and I don’t even spare a thought for the safety or integrity of this damn structure. The only thing that matters right now is his hands on me, his mouth on me. All of him on all of me.
“That feel good?” he asks in that same raspy tone.
“Mmm,” is the only thing my brain is capable of getting my vocal cords to say.
“I promise it’ll feel even better when you’re coming on my face, baby.”
That prompts a squeaky, indignant response from me. “What are you waiting for?”
“Permission,” is his one-word response.
My head shoots back up so I’m looking him dead in the eye, his fingers paused in their demands on my nipples.
“Yes, YES, yes, fuck, how many times do I have to say it? Jesus, Aaron, I’ve wanted this since we hit puberty. Don’t make me wait any longer.”
Hunger flares in his eyes before he speaks again. “I’m sorry I’ve made you wait this long. I swear you’ll never have to ask me again, Gem.”
He drops to his knees in front of me, and the sight alone nearly pushes me over the edge—of oblivion, not the balcony railing, to clarify.
Aaron, one knee on the ground, one booted foot in front of him for balance, as his hands work to get my jeans unbuttoned, unzipped, and pulled down. He doesn’t rush that either, pulling them down inch by painful inch, the rasp of the denim against my skin upping the anticipation for me with every new bit of flesh he reveals to his eyes, the air, the elements around us.
His lips are following the motion closely, laying soft kisses along the path his hands are taking, all the way down my thighs, first kissing one, then the other, down and over my knees, and all along my lower legs as he finally gets the pants down to my ankles. The unholy noises he’s making as he goes are really doing things to me. Not to mention, every single press of his lips shoots a tendril of pleasure straight to my core. I don’t have the patience for this, and I tell him that, which makes him laugh. He pulls my little boots off, one by one, the socks underneath, followed by my jeans and underwear.
The thought suddenly strikes me that we are out in the open, my ass and entire lower half completely bare to the breeze and any possible wandering eyes. I glance around quickly, making sure there’s no way we could be seen, and it seems like Aaron picked this spot well, because for as open as this is…we’re entirely secluded in our own little sanctuary of his property.
I’ve never done anything that felt remotely as risky—save that game of footsie in the restaurant—and another thrill of desire, stronger than the earlier ones, rockets through me at the knowledge we could be caught like this. For all the ways we’ve been seen together over the years, the thought of someone finding us in this compromising position… I can’t lie, it’s brewing warm tingles and flutters in my lower stomach. I’m shocked that I’m not embarrassed at the realization, but I can feel how wet I am from here, the raw need in me ramping up to an unprecedented level, so I guess I’m into it.
Aaron finally has me bared to him, and he crawls between my legs, settling in and making himself at home, right where he wants to be. He looks up at me from down there, maintaining eye contact as he grabs my left leg and pulls it over his shoulder, securing me in place with his right hand firmly gripping my ass cheek, and his other pressed against my stomach, holding me back against the railing. I think I whimper, but I might actually just be passing out from anticipation, lack of that vital oxygen I mentioned?
And then? He dives in, absolutely feasting on me. There’s no other word for it. His tongue is probing, licking, caressing me with a kind of reverence and devotion I’ve never felt with any other partner.
With every swipe of his tongue, every gentle nibble, every kiss he presses to my body, he’s telling me he loves me, he wants me, that he’s mine, if I’ll have him.
Every shudder, every whispered moan I give him in response tells him I’ve always been his, he’s only just finally taking me.
The way he’s so clearly enjoying himself in between my legs, staring up at me with this carnal desire I couldn’t even imagine him idolizing me with until the last maybe half a percent of our friendship, it’s sending me hurtling toward the point of no return. I know this isn’t going to last long. I’m not going to last long.
That hand of his on my stomach—the one that’s held mine through so many ups and downs as we came of age together, navigated all life offered together—it glides up, grasping my breast beneath my sweater, tweaking my nipple, getting as much of me in his hands as possible, just like he’s doing with his mouth.
The masculine sounds he’s making in response to my trembles, the shakes he’s bringing out of me, the way my head keeps falling back, my chest keeps heaving with the effort of trying to breathe through this unbearable pleasure he’s putting me through, that he’s not giving me the chance to escape from, it’s all too much for me.
I manage to bring my head back up, my eyes finding his like they’re magnets. The sight that’s haunted me upon every release I’ve ever had is now what I get to watch as I bend and finally break under his torment. That gorgeous face of his, with every bit of devotion he possesses focused on me .
We lock eyes—his glinting with the kind of desire I’ve only ever dreamed of seeing mirrored within them—right as his tongue does some Mortal Kombat combo after the announcer says “FINISH HER” and I explode around him, a mess of limbs, gasps, sloppy release and deepest emotion, all over him; all for him.
The smirk of pride that graces his lips should be illegal.
“Jesus, Gem.” I don’t know why he sounds awed right now, that honor should be all mine after what he just made me feel, giving me the most intense high of my life.
After my tremors calm down and I can almost breathe again, he pulls back slightly, licks his lips, and wipes his mouth and chin with one hand. He stands back up, where I get a pretty clear view of just how much he enjoyed that, and he holds my hips with both hands until I’m steady again.
Those gorgeous deep blue eyes stay locked on mine as he tells me, “God, I can’t wait to do that again. I’m never gonna get tired of seeing you come for me, baby.”
Some sort of whimper is my only response, and he flashes me that deadly half smile again.
After another moment, he reaches down to grab my discarded clothes and shoes, readjusting himself along the way, and damn if I don’t want to take my time getting acquainted with what he’s got going on. Honestly, it looks painful (probably gonna rip me in half here in a minute, but I’m willing to take one for the team—the team being the Aaron Stone fan club, founded by yours truly about ten years ago, now several million members strong), and I’d love to help relieve him of some of that tension he must be feeling.
My hand reaches out to him, trailing over his distended fly, on a lifelong mission at this point, and finally about to plant my flag in that summit after one hell of a climb. He gathers all of my belongings against his chest with one arm so he can use his free hand to grab my wandering one and stop its ascent with his steel grip. I look up at him, startled, and he reaches down, hoists me up into his arms somehow, and carries me back through the open door to the treehouse and into the bedroom suite. He places me down gently on the bed and kneels at my feet again. I’m so fucking ready for what comes next, it’s ridiculous.
But when his hands start working their way up my body once more, it’s because they’re dragging my pants up over my legs, the opposite of what I was hoping for.
“I…I thought you’d maybe wanna…ya know, do some more?” I offer weakly, kinda confused, my brain still only half cooperating after the entire galaxies of stars he just made me see.
His motion pauses, his head falls forward, hanging there for a second, before he gets some words out through all that gravel in his throat. “Believe me, Gem, I do.” He clears his throat and continues. “The only reason I’m putting these back on you right now is because I know I’m going to have so many more opportunities to feel you from the inside, make those legs shake in a hundred different ways for me, okay? Over my shoulders, around my hips, beneath or above me in any and every way we can find.” He punctuates each of those last words with kisses on any parts of my body he can reach. He gathers himself again and adds, “Only reason, baby.”
“Oh,” I say, kinda stupidly, very breathlessly, but fully unable to gather any other thoughts at the moment.
He must see the disappointment in my eyes, because he speaks up again. “You’re gonna have to give me a little, okay? I wasn’t expecting today to go like…this,” Aaron says. “This has already become the best day of my life. If I embarrass myself within the first ten seconds of you touching me… I might ruin this memory for both of us.” His quirky, beautiful face has a grimace on it at the thought, and I trace it with my fingertips, smiling at him.
“You literally couldn’t ruin today, Stone.”
The corner of his mouth edges up in a smirk. “Why don’t we go back to the house for now? I’ll order us some food, we can watch a movie or something?” He places another kiss to my lips, and I’m positive I’ll be down for anything this man wants to do to me. With me. Whatever.
It’s only when he stoops down to pick something up off the floor and slip it into his front pocket that I realize he didn’t put my underwear back on, only my jeans. He winks at me when he sees me notice the motion, before readjusting that bulge in his pants, and then lifting me from the bed.
Aaron carries me back to the house, wrapped around him as close as I can possibly get, and I forget all about that sunset I was so desperate to witness up here. Looks like we’re gonna have a lot of sunsets we can catch together. There’s other things I’m more desperate for right now.