20. Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty
Jacob
“Tell me you’re actually enjoying yourself, though,” my brother says, looking at me through the video chat.
“I am,” I say honestly. “It’s kind of perfect, actually…”
“So, what’s the problem?” he asks, leaning back into my couch. I hear the sound of a bag crunching, and I worry about the state of my couch, but I try to ignore it.
“I mean, there’s the issue with him being my client. ” I whisper.
“What’s the issue?” Noah pressed.
“Um…” Isn’t it obvious?
“You think you can’t have a relationship with your client because he’s paying you to have a relationship with him?” Noah raises an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
I don’t know what’s real and what’s not because I’m supposed to be pretending to be this man he’s in love with, who is madly in love with him, and…
And somewhere it feels like we stopped pretending to love each other and we actually…
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but—” He lets out a breath. “You could always refuse the money.” Noah’s voice falters. “I mean, if he means that much to you.”
All at once, I remember my brother’s broken heart and feel like shit.
“Sorry, Noah, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine. Really, just… if you think he’s worth it, you should give it a shot. A real shot.”
“But what if he doesn’t feel what I feel? What if it’s just a job to him?” My throat tightens at the words.
“What if it’s not, Jake?” I note the edge of sadness in his eyes. “What if this is your story? What if you finally get to be Julia Roberts, man?”
I sigh as his words hit me. “I don’t know, Noah. I don’t know how to navigate something like this.”
Noah sighs, looking away from the screen for a moment, and I note the bags under his eyes.
He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.
“I know,” he says softly. “But maybe he doesn’t either.” He looks at me with a sad expression.
“But you’ll never know until you ask, man.” His expression shifts and he smiles, the brother I know well coming through. “Don’t be a pussy. Put on some clean underwear and tell Richard Gere you love him and want to fuck his brains out.”
I roll my eyes and laugh, because fuck… I miss him. My brother.
He’s an idiot, but he’s my idiot, and I love him. He always knows how to put things in perspective.
“TMI, Noah. But thanks.”
I look up at the beach, noting Chris has left, and it looks like Aaron is lying on my blanket, reading one of my books, though I can’t tell which one from here. I make my way up to him, and notice when I get there it looks like he’s reading Rina Kent’s God of Malice. I raise an eyebrow at him.
“Where’s Chris?”
“Left,” he says plainly. “Called an Uber and went home.”
“Home like the beach house or—”
“Home to the city to visit his boyfriend, apparently.”
My mouth falls open as I remember his touch. The way he looked at me and said he thought I was someone else.
I think I knew then. I just didn’t want to think about it.
But after seeing my brother and those bags under his eyes…
Chris is Bella’s neighbor. He’s seen me—and probably Noah—a few times coming and going.
And maybe he knows more than he lets on.
Maybe he refuses Bella’s flirtations, because it’s not Bella he wants. And judging by the sadness in his voice when he said I reminded him of someone else…
I don’t think it’s me he wants, either.
Part of me wants to call Noah and ask, but I don’t think it would do any good right now, so I don’t. If Noah is the boyfriend Chris is talking about… if he’s heading home to see him… I don’t want to get in the way of that. Even if I’m dying to know the details.
“Oh,” I say as I take a seat next to Aaron.
“So, no party tomorrow then,” I say. Aaron shrugs.
“We can have our own party.” He scoots closer to me. His gaze finds mine as he styles his hand on my hip and pulls me closer. I let him, because I like it. I like how he touches me. I never want him to stop touching me.
“Can I ask you a question?”
He smirks. “You just did, baby.”
I chuckle, focusing my gaze on him. “If we had met in a coffee shop, if you had picked up my order by accident, would you have asked me out?”
Aaron smiles softly. “Fuck yes, I would have.”
I shake my head. “You wouldn’t have waited two weeks to text or call?”
He laughs. “Um… no. I would’ve asked you to dinner to make up for stealing your coffee.”
“Can I ask you a question?” he asks, tracing his fingertips along my sun-kissed hip.
I nod.
“Would you have said yes?” he asks. “If you didn’t know who I was.”
His voice is soft, almost sad. “If I was just some regular guy who got the coffee orders mixed up and not… Aaron Everett, son of a hotel mogul, would you have said yes?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “I didn’t know who you were before your Dad’s party. For all I knew, you were a regular guy.” I lie down on my side, scooting closer to him. We barely fit on this towel, but I don’t care.
“And you are a regular guy,” I say.
“No, I’m not,” he says, his voice sad. “Regular guys don’t pay pretty boys forty grand to pretend to love them.”
His gaze falls, but he continues to stroke my hip, his touch feather light as I see the tension take hold in his shoulders.
And then I say the thing I should not say. The words that seal my doom.
“Who says I’m pretending, Aaron?” I whisper, and his gaze finds mine, holding it like a prisoner.
“Jacob—”
“I think we both know this isn’t pretend anymore.”
My heart thuds so loud in my chest I think he can hear it. He has to be able to hear it, because I can.
I settle my hand on his neck, and pull him to me, kissing him with the last shred of my sanity.
He kisses me back. Hard.
His hand on my hip pulls me closer, until our bodies are crashing together like the waves in the distance.
My cock strains against my trunks, and I have to make a concentrated effort to stop, remembering we are in public.
And I do not want to get arrested for indecent exposure.
I break away, and he licks his lips. “I think you’re right,” he says.
I smile as I pluck the book from where it fell.
The rest of the day we lounge, cuddling together on the blanket between bouts of make outs and hydration.
Aaron orders us Door Dash on the beach—a burger for him and a chicken caesar wrap for me—until the sun is setting.
I run in the waves and he picks me up, carrying me into the four feet of water as I scream because I’m terrified of sharks.
Shark movies are different, that’s fiction. But reality?
I’ve never been in the ocean before, and sharks are scary.
I cling to Aaron as I wrap my legs around his waist, trying to climb him to escape the waves, which elicits a deep laugh from him as a heavy wave hits us and knocks us both over.
I scream, salt water getting in my mouth, but my scream is silenced as he kisses me, pressing his body against mine.
The sand dips for us, waves covering our bodies as he kisses me.
I wrap my arms around him, and the words fall out of my mouth without warning.
“I think I love you,” I breathe.
Shit. I meant to say this.
“I mean, I think I love this. The beach, the water, the—”
He stops, his lips leaving mine dry and aching for more.
I pull my legs up, my cock twitching in my wet trunks. I feel his own hardness echoing my sentiment, but it’s his eyes that hold me still.
He moves some hair from my temple, his kiss-swollen lips speckled with saltwater. He smirks at me and I think it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“I think I love you, too, Jake.” His voice is low, deep. Smooth. Testing, but also strangely soft.
The words sink inside me, burying themself in my heart.
No man has ever told me they loved me and meant it.
But I think Aaron means it. I want to believe he does, so I do. I kiss him, savoring this moment.
I never want to forget it.
We go back to the beach house to shower and get ready for dinner. Aaron won’t tell me where we’re going, just that he thinks I’m going to love it.
I believe him. I think I would love anything as long as he’s there.
I barely get the shampoo in my hair before he has me against the wall, before he’s pressing his cock against my ass while one hand pumps my shaft. I open my legs, pushing back against him, needing to feel more of him.
“Use your words, little prince,” he tells me as he works my cock, nice and slow. I push back against him, trying to angle myself just right.
“Aaron—”
“Tell me what you want. Be specific.” I hear the humor in his voice, tinged with lust. I can feel his cock throbbing against my seam.
I look at him over my shoulder.
“I want you, Aaron,” I say, the words heavy in my throat. I push back against him, and he presses his cockhead between my cheeks just a fraction, and my cock throbs.
“How do you want me, baby?” he asks, nibbling my ear. The water rushes around us, and the ecstasy is too much. I think I might come just like this, and he’s not even anywhere near inside me yet.
And that’s where I want him to be. Inside me. All around me.
I want to be consumed by Aaron Everett.
I want to be owned by Aaron Everett.
“Just like this,” I breathe. “I want you to take me, just like this.”
He stills for a moment, my request in the air like an echo as the water falls on us.
“You want me to fuck you?” he asks, his voice clear and crisp. I nod.
“Yes,” I say, my cock weeping with precum.
“Are you sure…” he asks. I nod, pushing my ass back against the head of his cock.
“Yes!” I tell him, the desperation eating me alive.
“Say it then.” His voice changes. It’s darker, harsher.
He slips a finger through my seam, pressing against my hole, and the touch isn’t sweet or gently. It’s deliberate.
I gasp.
“I need to hear you say it,” he says.
His finger presses into me, and I groan, my cock in his hand throbbing. I’m not going to last long.
Then again, I never seem to be able to hold out for this man. He knows just how to play my strings right.
“Please,” I moan. “Please fuck me, Daddy.”
The groan that escapes his chest is like an earthquake.