16. Chapter Sixteen #2
But something tells me I can trust Aaron. Something tells me honesty really is the best policy with him, and I don’t want us to get off on the wrong foot here.
“Commitment issues,” I say carefully. “She doesn’t think she has the time or the energy for a relationship, so she pays for my company—and others—” I make a point to enunciate the others , so he knows I’m not the only one. I feel like for some reason, that’s an important distinction.
“And being as we’ve worked together for a while—”
“She’s comfortable with you without having to commit,” he says, his voice low, deep. Understanding.
“Yeah.” I look at him as he carefully zips his suitcase, noting the way the light catches the highlights in his dark hair.
“Makes sense.” He pulls his suitcase off the bed and rolls it in the corner before taking a seat on the bed by the headboard.
He leans into a pile of pillows, his gaze fixed on me as I try my hardest to stay focused on pulling out my clothes.
“You can use my dresser.”
“Thanks.” I clear my throat, feeling strangely vulnerable.
“No problem. It’s the least I can do.”
I pull out my clothes and make several piles on the bed so I can keep them organized.
“You said you have never been to the beach,” he says slowly.
“That’s right.” I settle my underwear in the drawer first.
“So, no beach dates either, I take it? Client wise?”
I shake my head. “No. I mean, I once went to the lake with a woman for a wedding, but it rained, so they moved the whole thing indoors.”
“So, tell me, Prince Charming, what would your perfect beach date look like?”
I smirk, noting the lilt in his voice. I know what he’s doing, and it will not work. He’s not going to out-romance the professional, here.
“Well, Prince Charming might say a perfect beach date would be something super trope-y. Like strolling the beach at sunset and skinny-dipping in the waves.” I let out a chuckle. “You know, because romance novels always love to get everyone naked, because it’s sexy.”
Aaron laughs, the sound smooth and dark. “Right, of course.”
The way he’s looking at me makes my cheeks flush, and I turn away to grab a fresh pile of shirts to put away.
“What about Jacob ?” he asks, that same smooth, melting tone saying my name, making my insides warm.
“What about him?” I arrange my shirts in the drawer.
It’s then I feel warmth envelope me, like a fire.
It’s the smallest touch, just his hand on my hip, gently moving me aside.
I realize as he lets go he has a pile of clothes for me.
Another pile of underwear I apparently missed.
I look up at him with my flushed cheeks, my cock twitching away in my pants as the air around me gets thin.
Hot. He offers me my pile of underwear like an olive branch.
Aaron looks at me, then his gaze dips to my mouth.
“What does Jacob’s perfect beach date look like?”
I think about how to answer him, if I should at all. But as much as I want to put that wall up, as much as I want to walk away from him to grab my clothes right now, I can’t. I lean in just a fraction and he parts his lips.
It’s the faintest motion, an involuntary response.
I’ve developed a talent for delivering people’s perfect moments, those perfect dates and kisses they only dream about.
But in all of those moments, I was the one in control. It was my job to give them everything they wanted, butter them up and get them pliable, comfortable with me.
But never did I ever think anyone would put me in the hot seat like this. Never did I expect anyone to give me a taste of my own medicine, and I certainly never expected anyone to make me so damn pliable.
The words fall out of my mouth like they are the easiest thing in the world.
“Dinner somewhere quiet. Private. Overlooking the water. Maybe a nice walk through the surf as the sun goes down.” I lick my lips as I lean in an inch, unable to resist the gravitational pull of this man.
“How does it end?” he asks, his voice low, dark. Barely a whisper.
“Huh?”
“How does it end?” He leans down an inch, our lips barely ghosting one another. “Does he kiss you?”
I’m well aware from the closeness, and the way Aaron is looking at me, that we are no longer talking about hypothetical dates—we’re talking about something else entirely.
I could tell him no. Save the fire for when we have to put on a show for his family. But I don’t want to tell him no.
I want him to kiss me. Hypothetically and not hypothetically.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I think he kisses me as the sun sets, while the waves crash around our legs,” I say, my voice barely a whisper of its own. “And I think when he does it, it takes my breath away.”
Aaron leans his forehead against mine, and I close my eyes, waiting for his mouth to find mine. But it doesn’t. My heart races as I wait, my lips aching to be kissed, but Aaron does no such thing.
I look up at him and he smirks. “Is that what you want, Jake?” he asks.
“You want me to take your breath away?”
It’s the way he says my name. Not Prince Charming, or little prince, or baby.
My name. It sounds warm and smooth on his tongue, and I like it more than I should.
“You want me to kiss you? As the sun goes down?”
I lick my lips, words somehow failing me. “Uh huh.”
He settles his hands on my hips and holds me still. My cock twitches as he ghosts his lips across mine so faintly, I barely feel them. But it’s enough to feel how soft and warm they are. It’s enough to tease me and make my damn cock throb.
“How about now?” he whispers. His mouth moves to my neck, his lips grazing the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Do you want me to kiss you right now?”
My heart thuds so loud in my chest, I think it’s going to explode.
Fuck me all to hell. I know I will regret this later, but right now I can’t help myself.
I nod. “Yes, Daddy.”
Aaron lets out a deep chuckle and a second later, I feel his hand on my neck, his thumb tilting my chin up and his lips covet mine like a spell.
Or a curse.
He holds me steady with one hand on my hip, the other on my throat and kisses me slowly.
Achingly slowly.
My entire body loosens, and I don’t fight it. I can’t.
I kiss him back, relishing in the warmth of his mouth on mine, and open my mouth. He takes the invitation wordlessly, caressing my tongue with his.
And then he just… stops.
He pulls away, his kiss-swollen lips calling mine like a siren.
My cock strains against my tight briefs, and I realize how painfully hard I am.
My cheeks flush as I clear my throat and adjust my cock, knowing he can see the effect he has on me.
The effect his mouth has on me. I should feel embarrassed because I don’t usually get turned on from kissing guys.
It usually takes a little more than a sexy makeout to get me hard, but Aaron…
Aaron seems to know just how to push the buttons no one else does.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, his voice raspy.
“Huh?” I blink, trying to get my faculties back. I swear, I left my damn body the moment he kissed me.
Me. Not Prince Charming. He kissed me.
“Food,” he says with a laugh. “It’s almost noon, and I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking starving.”
“Right. Food.” Good lord, how am I going to get through this week when just kissing this man makes me forget how to speak like a human?
He nods for me to follow him, and I do. Once we leave the confines of Aaron’s room, the sounds of the house are evident. We get to the kitchen to find Betsy and Shannon at the island chopping fruit and veggies, and the island is a mess of packages and utensils.
There’s a teenager that keeps looking at her phone and making faces, taking selfies. I hear the music from her phone and I assume she’s making a TikTok.
“Where’s Chris, Dad, and Uncle Trav?” Aaron asks.
“Out on the deck.” Shannon says. “Soaking up that salty sea air.”
Betsy looks at me with a grin. “Aaron, can you do me a huge favor?”
I don’t miss the way he tenses beside me. “What?”
“Can you run down to the store and grab me a few things?”
He looks between me and his mother, pursing his lips.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, knowing exactly what she’s doing, and I know it’s better we get it out of the way. At least with him gone, I can set the tone, the narrative. Fill him in later, and I’ll be less anxious if he’s not here. Because let’s face it, Aaron being nearby makes my brain glitch.
And if I am going to pull this off for him—and myself—I need to have my wits about me.
“Are you sure?” he asks, taking one arm and snaking it around my waist. He pulls me closer, and I let him, not bothering to fight him.
His hand settles at the small of my back again, his thumb drawing circles through my shirt. He implores my gaze.
“I’m sure,” I say, my voice shakier than it should be as my gaze falls on his mouth again.
“We just got here and you’re already trying to get rid of me,” he says humorously. Betsy giggles as the music from Lola’s phone plays, some sped up version of a song I don’t recognize.
“No,” I say, reaching out to grasp his jaw, running my fingers over his stubble. I implore his gaze with mine, tapping into my inner Prince Charming.
“I’d never want to get rid of you, baby,” I say, giving him a perfect, charming smile.
He smirks, leans in and kisses me. Chastely, of course, but I’m still shocked, though I know it’s probably better this way so we can lay the groundwork for all the PDA and it won’t feel weird.
He pulls away too quickly for my liking, but I know it’s just for show. It’s an act, nothing more.
Except, I’m not sure what happened in his bedroom moments ago was a complete act, and I’m not entirely sure this is either, but I tell myself it is because I don’t need to have a breakdown in front of him and his family , and I know I need to stop questioning things and just… go with the flow. Follow his lead.
“Fine,” he says, pushing away from me as he slips his hands into his pocket. “What do you need?” He shoots a look at his mother.