Chapter 33
CHAPTER 33
AIDEN
I lay awake later that night. It’s not my first time since she moved in.
I stare up at the ceiling. My ears are perked up, like if I just concentrate hard enough, I’ll be able to hear her breathing through two closed doors and a hallway.
We got back late, and said goodbye in the hall with another lingering kiss. It was past midnight and she looked tired. Tired and happy, and I didn’t want to push my luck.
Maybe she’s fast asleep now. Curled up on her side, the shape of a small spoon without a large one to hold her. Maybe she’s awake like I am. Tossing and turning.
But the thought that haunts me? That she might be using the vibrator I now know she travels with.
I see it in my mind’s eye, and can easily picture how she would use it. Slide it between her creamy thighs, fitting it between them, maybe locking them together so that the pulsating head rests firmly against her clit.
How she might bend her legs and nudge it to her entrance. Slowly push it in, her face tightening, her mouth opening in an O at being filled.
Fuck, the image haunts me.
It haunts me because it’s not a fantasy. It’s a memory. The sweetest goddamned memory I have, and it hasn’t faded from so much use. If anything, it’s even more vivid now than a mere day after it happened.
My need for her grows every fucking day. It shouldn’t, but it does. And I keep thinking there’ll be a peak sometime. A point when I won’t be able to keep wanting this much, where it’ll become physically impossible, but I never reach it.
I’m rock hard.
Stroking lazily, I continue just enough to edge me closer but not push me over the edge. I’m already leaking a bit at the tip, all from the memories of her.
Memories and regrets. Because there are so many things I lament not doing during our night together. I didn’t memorize all the little sounds she made, not like I would now. There are positions I want to see her in, and even more ways to make her come that we didn’t explore.
I’ve thrown back the covers. It got too hot beneath them, even with the AC on. My boxer briefs are gone, too. I’d tossed them off the minute I realized I was too fucking horny to sleep and only had one option to drain the longing out of my system. At least enough to be able to fall asleep.
I grip myself tighter and bring myself back to the brink of release. The alarm clock reads 2:37 a.m. and I’m going to have a hell of a day tomorrow on so little rest. I should get this over with, and try to catch some Zs.
I grit my teeth and hold back a groan. Fuck. I picture Charlotte in my arms. Charlotte on the bed, naked and knees gently parted, looking at me. Begging me for it. I’m so damn close.
Then I hear it.
The faint sound I’ve been listening for. The padding of feet, and then… a timid knock on my door.
If I hadn’t been awake, if I hadn’t been listening for her, it wouldn’t have registered.
I stop just shy of release. Intense fire surges through my body, forces a groan out of me.
Another knock. Slightly louder this time.
I push out of bed and reach for a pair of gray sweats from the dresser. “Coming!”
Pulling them over my angry cock, I hesitate just by the door. The best I can hope for is that she won’t notice the obvious outline.
“Aiden?” she asks through the door.
Her soft voice is like another shock wave through my too-heated system, and I take a deep breath before opening the door.
She’s standing in the still-dark hallway. A too-large T-shirt is over her frame, skimming the tops of her thighs. Her hair is a wavy waterfall around her shoulders.
Her face is clean of makeup. Just soft, lightly freckled skin, and a rueful smile. “Hey,” she says. “I’m so sorry. Did I wake you?”
“No.” My voice comes out harsher than is warranted, and I clear my throat. “What’s the matter?”
“There’s an alarm going off.”
“Where?”
She walks down the hall, toward the large staircase that’s closer to her bedroom than it is to mine. And then I hear it. The beeping of the tripped alarm.
It’s not the main security alarm. That one would have been blaring, and the security guys would already have arrived.
“I’m sorry. I figured it might be important and started to head downstairs to investigate. But then, I thought?—”
“You didn’t.”
She shakes her head. “No. I didn’t.”
“Good. If you ever hear an alarm here, you stay in your room, okay?” My voice is still harsher than it needs to be, but I’m too tightly wound, in too much pain, and the idea of her coming face to face with burglars alone…
Charlotte nods quickly. “Yes. I’ll do that.”
I pull up my phone and look at the security notifications. It’s a faulty battery in one of the outer perimeter sensors, and that has the main security system downstairs alerting the residents to get it fixed as soon as possible. It’s designed to be a low, discreet beep. Sufficiently annoying to prompt action, but not enough to ruin someone’s eardrums.
I head down the stairs. The house is dark and empty, and despite this being just a minor issue, I feel on edge. Like, there might be things lurking in the shadows that might harm her.
She follows me. I’m attuned to the sound of her bare feet now, padding across the floors of my house.
And my erection still hasn’t fully deflated. Luckily it’s dark, and Charlotte is distracted, or she would have noticed the fucking tree trunk between my legs.
I head to the security panel in the main hallway. It’s hidden behind a painting that’s hung on hinges, a construction the previous owner had put in. I tap the code to open the little door and find the override button for the maintenance alarm.
I shut it off.
“There,” I say. “I’m sorry it woke you up. There should?—”
There’s a crash behind me. I turn, eyes scanning.
Charlotte is standing by a side table, her hands over her mouth. A knocked-over sculpture lies on the floor. It’s shattered into several pieces. She must have bumped into it in the dark.
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Leave it,” I say.
She ignores me, of course. Turns to the mess instead and bends over to pick up the jagged shards.
My entire world narrows. She’s only wearing that oversized T-shirt and a black thong. Her creamy skin, the long expanse of her slim legs, and the ass that fits perfectly into my hands, one cheek in each palm, is right there. And between her thighs, the thinnest little sliver of black fabric.
Fuck me.
The erection was painful earlier. In the past few minutes, it had deflated somewhat. Not enough to stop bothering me, but enough that I can think. Focus. Now it surges back to life with a rush that has me stifling a groan.
She can’t walk around like this in my house.
I never thought I’d complain about a beautiful woman in underwear, but right now, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Charlotte Gray is too damn fine to be wearing so little clothing around a man she had hot sex with only a few weeks ago.
A man she’s not meant to have hot sex with again.
She’s not looking at me. She’s collecting the little ceramic chunks onto her open palm, meticulously organizing them.
I reach down and rearrange my cock. It’s hard to hide it, but I do my best. If she looks for longer than a split second, she’ll see it. Hard to miss the clear fucking tent in my sweats.
“Leave it,” I mutter again.
She glances over her shoulder at me, and almost like she just realized it, bolts upright. Her free hand tugs on the hem of her T-shirt.
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know if she’s apologizing for breaking a random piece of decor I’ve never thought twice about, or for flashing me.
Neither is necessary.
“It’s fine. Leave that for the housekeeper,” I say. “You could cut yourself.”
“I clean up my own messes.”
I want to tell her that my constant hard-on is a mess of her creation, yet she isn’t doing a thing to clean that up.
“You don’t have to. Not around here.”
She takes a step from the small disaster zone on the hardwood floor and places the shards carefully on a side table. “Okay.” Her hands clasp together, and then she looks at me far too closely.
Fuck.
I run a hand through my hair and walk away from her. Turn my back entirely, and head into the kitchen. I still hear her soft footfalls as she follows me.
I pour myself a large glass of cold water, add some ice, and then drain it completely.
“What’s wrong?” she asks me. Her voice is careful. “Was it very expensive? I’m really sorry.”
I glare at her.
“Oh. Right,” she says. “Maybe it had sentimental value? I’ll replace it if I can, Aiden. I promise.”
“I don’t care about whatever that fucking thing was. You just helped me declutter.” I set the glass back down and I’m grateful for the kitchen island separating us. Hiding my lower half.
Her eyes widen. “Oh. Well, then, what’s wrong? Did the security alarm scare you?” She walks around the counter, step by step, and I want to warn her away. Danger lies here.
My entire body tightens at her nearness.
“Chaos,” I warn her.
There’s a small furrow between her eyebrows. Like she’s concerned, and it’s such an unwarranted sweetness, that it makes me sigh in frustration. I want her more than my next breath, and she’s concerned.
“You’re upset,” she says softly. Her gaze drops down to my hand, gripping the edge of the counter. And then further down.
Her gaze lingers for a moment and then returns quickly to my face. A flush creeps up her neck, out from the neckline of her scarlet Idaho State T-shirt. Everything is Idaho-themed with her. I find myself wanting to go there. I’ve never been.
But I want to. Visit the small town she’s from. Meet the parents she’s mentioned. All of it.
“I’m not upset,” I say.
“I’m so sorry,” she says again.
I shake my head and grit my teeth. “You have to stop apologizing tonight, Chaos. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“How… why…” She stammers as if the words are too hard to get out. Nearly as hard as I am.
“Why am I… affected?”
Charlotte nods. It’s a small, breathless movement.
“Remember when I walked in on you at the hotel? When you were in the shower?” I take a step closer, my hand tightening around the edge of the countertop. “You knocked on my door tonight.”
“While you were…”
“You can say it.” At this point, I’m just taunting her. Against all my better instincts. But I’ve always loved seeing her reactions.
There’s a flicker of shyness in her eyes, and then she pulls her shoulders back. I love that movement. The expression that settles over her face when she decides to push through and go for what she wants.
“While you were jerking off.”
I give a hoarse chuckle. “Jerking off. Yes, I suppose you could say that. I was seconds away from coming when you knocked on that door.”
“I’m sorry,” she breathes.
I lean in closer. “For the love of God, Charlotte, stop apologizing tonight for things that aren’t your fault.”
Her chest rises and falls quickly beneath that thin T-shirt. “I feel like I’m responsible for a lot tonight.”
“You are. But none of them are things you said sorry for.” I’m going to hell. I know that. But there’s no stopping this, not when her eyes are on me like that, when her body is only a couple of feet away, and my balls are fucking pulsing with need. “My hard-on, Chaos? That’s entirely because of you.”
There’s a spark of delight in her eyes.
I groan at the sight. Fucking hell, it’s not fair for her to look pleased at that. Not when I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
Charlotte takes another step closer, as if I’m not seconds away from snapping.
“You’re this turned on by me?”
The question is so shyly asked, like there could be other alternatives. I give a hoarse chuckle and push a hand through my hair. “I thought we established that earlier. And turned on is a mild way of putting it. I need you. I have for weeks. Lately, I haven’t been able to sleep for wanting you so fucking much. So yes. I’m very turned on, Chaos, and it’s inconvenient as hell, because we only just agreed to have fun together.”
Her eyes drop down again, lingering briefly on my bare chest, and then focusing on the outline in my sweatpants.
“Can I help?”