Chapter 17
I Will Wait
AIDEN
When Greer’s heart and breathing slow, Roarke and I help her back into her clothes. Her gaze keeps returning to my eyes and dropping to my mouth. My cock twitches at the memory of her warm, wet mouth sucking on my fingers. How her brown eyes held mine.
The soft skin of her lips brushing against my skin made me want to lean in and taste her. But I can’t. Not yet. I’m not sure if it’s the ghost of my ex haunting me or something else. Something darker.
Maybe I worry about my desire for her.
It draws me in and makes me crave her, just like my addiction. I fight so hard every day to stay sober. Even though I haven’t tasted her, I’m worried she’ll become another addiction. One I won’t be able to fight off if I have to.
After she sorts through Roarke’s closet, we take a load of his clothes to the laundry room. Unable to resist, I kiss the top of her head and inhale that sweet, intoxicating vanilla scent mixed with her unique scent.
“I’ll be on the main floor, reviewing my script.”
The heat of her body lures me, making me hesitate to pull away from her. She tips her face up.
When her light brown eyes collide with mine, for a moment, I almost forget myself and lean in to taste her. Almost. I worry a taste won’t be enough. A spark of hope lights in her eyes before it goes out when I draw away.
My chest tightens as I climb the stairs. It hurts that I’m hurting her, but this is for the best. At least for now.
It’s almost like a test to see if I can resist. But eventually I’ll succumb to her; it’s inevitable. I want the taste of her on my lips and that sweet body writhing beneath mine.
She comes up a few minutes later and heads into the kitchen, working quietly, while I read. It’s blissfully domestic, and I consider getting her that fifties dress, imagining her greeting me at the door when I get home from set with a smile and a martini—
And that’s where the fantasy crashes and burns.
I’m an addict. My failed marriage drove me to drink. Excessively. To hide from the world that wanted to drag me through the press. Siobhan left me, but she was the injured party. I didn’t spend enough time with her. I was too cold. Allegations of an affair hit the entertainment news like a ton of bricks.
I never cheated on my wife. But I loved her and needed her. She kept me grounded in an industry that can make you feel invincible when it loves you. And can brutalize you while you’re already on your way down.
When she left me, I lost an important part of me. The fear of becoming reliant on a woman again, even one as sweet and submissive as Greer, plagues me and keeps me from giving in to the desire she stirs.
I focus on the script as Roarke walks through on his way to the workout room. His shorts hang low on his hips and his tank top shows off his massive arms. He lifts Greer onto the counter, making her squeak, before claiming those full lips of hers. The rise of jealous heat inside me isn’t from him kissing her, but the fact he can kiss her without a second thought.
He can taste her sweetness without worrying if she’ll just become another addiction. Something I can’t seem to live without.
When he lifts his head, his gaze meets mine. Roarke knows my brain. He knows how I work. We’ve been friends too long. He knows I want her without me telling him, and he knows that every time I don’t do what I want to, it hurts her.
She’s this fragile flower that wilts without praise and blooms with it. She hesitates, but we don’t. Well, except me.
So far, Roarke’s allowing me to withdraw, but only when it doesn’t hurt her. Which makes me curious. Does he want more from her, or is this his normal two-week fling? He murmurs something to her that I can’t hear.
She releases a little laugh, and it curls around my insides and tugs. It would be easier if I only wanted her body, but I want those smiles and that laughter. I want to hold her in the dark and chase away her demons. But I’m barely chasing away my own.
He sets her back on her feet. As she walks away, he smacks her ass. She turns and glares at him, but he just chuckles as he heads downstairs.
Her eyes seek me out. I love that she does that. I love that she relies on me to guide her. It’s a need. Almost as addicting as the feel of her warm body pressed into mine when we sleep.
When she finishes working in the kitchen, she stares outside for a second. A wistful look falls over her.
The next few lines of the script jumble together, and I set it to the side.
When I stand, she straightens.
“Come on, little warrior. Let’s go for a walk.” I hold my hand out and she joins me. My large hand swallows hers. Siobhan was almost as tall as me with her heels. Our hands naturally fell together with her thumb over mine.
Greer’s thumb slides beneath mine, and it feels different but right.
She tugs me to a stop at the door. “Oh, wait, shoes.”
She holds up her bare feet. I can’t help smiling at her dainty feet and toes.
“We’re walking on the beach. You don’t need shoes.”
Shrugging, she follows me around the pool deck. When we climb past the chairs Wyatt and Mason smoke in, she pauses and checks out their setup. They didn’t actually smoke last night.
I’m curious what they discussed, but I’m sure it’s the same thing that has me spinning.
Greer. She’s already beginning to change things around here. I don’t know if it’s for the better yet.
#
GREER
We crest the dune, and a wooden pier stretches all the way to the beach and ocean. The smell is amazing. Crashing waves, sea birds, and my pounding heart fill my ears.
My hand tightens around Aiden’s as the ocean spreads out before me, seemingly endless. I can’t contain my grin. It’s just how I remember it. Though the beach was more crowded wherever we were.
My mother was healthy then. I have vague memories, but the warm ball of love in my heart I remember clearly. The hazy picture of a man with us that I can only assume is my father, but the only proof I have of him is that one picture.
My mind can’t lock on him or memories of him. Except that one day at the beach. The memory I held onto during the hard years that followed. The way I want to remember my mother and not the cold stare.
Aiden wraps his arms around me and rubs my arm. “I should have let you grab a sweater.”
“I’m not cold” automatically comes out of my mouth before I even check to see if I am. Don’t be a bother. It’s been drilled into me by foster parent after foster parent. If you’re too needy, they send you away.
His hand runs up my arm. “I can feel your goose bumps.”
“I don’t want to go back. I’m fine.” I give him a genuine smile. “Let’s take a walk.”
I want this time with him. Alone when we aren’t fast asleep in each other’s arms. Maybe I should feel embarrassed that I’m becoming comfortable being manhandled by Roarke. Or that I’m not ashamed that Wyatt and Mason both made me come too. Or even that Aiden watched me.
I’ve never had a chance to embrace life before, and I can’t wait to do more. Aiden leads me down to the sand, and I pause when my feet sink into the soft, warm sand.
“How long has it been?” He smiles down at my wiggling toes.
“I don’t know, honestly. Before Dad left, back when Mom wasn’t addicted.” It’s hard to remember that there were good times. Hard to remember that, at one point, my mom and dad took care of me and not the other way around.
Aiden pulls on my hand to draw me away from the pier. We walk for a few minutes, hand in hand. The breeze plays with my hair. The air smells salty and fresh. The waves curl up on shore only to stretch back out to the ocean. A few other people walk on the beach, but no one bothers us.
When a dog runs up to us, I instinctively take a step behind Aiden. He laughs as he pats the dog on the head and it runs back off to its master.
“Are you afraid of dogs, little warrior?” Aiden draws me into his side and wraps his arm protectively around my shoulder.
“Every dog, no. Strange dogs, yes. Reasonably so, I might add.” Dogs were tricky animals. Usually how they responded told me a lot about their master. If they were friendly, the foster parent usually was nice enough. If the dog was aggressive or downtrodden, the foster parent wouldn’t be a good fit.
“Did you have a lot of experiences with dogs growing up?” His thumb strokes over my shoulder, sending little jolts of desire through me.
“Only a few homes had dogs. We never had one growing up. Mom said they were too much work.” I shrug. “I wanted a pet, but I figured I’d like a cat more. They seem a lot more chill.”
Aiden chuckles. “We had dogs. My older brothers usually took them for walks and helped with the care. The dogs obeyed them. Pretty sure the dogs saw me as another dog to pick on.”
I glance up at his smile. He’s radiant in the sunlight. I’m sure anyone seeing us together probably wonders what he’s doing with me. I’m average at best. Maybe slightly pretty, but I definitely am not equal to any of the men in that house.
Maybe that should bother me, make me feel like they’re using me, but it doesn’t. I don’t know why they’re interested in me, but the attraction is intense. There shouldn’t be an issue exploring that attraction as long as there are rules so no one gets hurt.
“Can I ask you something?” I push my hands in my back pockets to keep from fiddling with my shirt.
“Sure.” He doesn’t remove his arm, and we continue walking down the beach.
“How long have you been sober?”
“I stayed in rehab for six months. I’ve been out for about two months now.” His gaze remains on the ocean, but his thumb still skids across my skin. “I don’t want to relapse, and we decided that a longer term in rehab would help the producers take my recovery seriously.”
Eight months sober. “That’s good.”
And I mean it. That means he’s got a good foundation. I just need to help him hold his boundaries.
He squeezes me against him. “It is, but it also means I can’t give in to this attraction yet.”
My heart skips a beat. He stops walking and turns me to face him, tipping my chin up. His light blue eyes search mine, and he sighs.
“I haven’t been with anyone since Siobhan. If we go down this road, it has to be slow, and we have to check in often. It’s too easy to give up one addiction and pick up another to fill the void.”
I read that somewhere, but it still sucks.
After glancing around, he slides his hand around my neck to hold the back of my head. “I want you, Greer, but I can’t have you. Yet.”
My pulse quickens as his thumb traces my jaw.
“The others won’t wait, and I don’t expect you to wait either. I can wait. You can help me sleep, and we’ll let that be the extent of our codependence until the one-year mark.”
Four months? I bite my lip. I’ve had longer dry spells than that, but never have I felt an attraction like this one. This need to be close to him, to touch him. It’s only been two days, and I’m already longing for more.
If it’s what he needs, though, I can do that.
I smile softly. “Four months isn’t that long.”
He chuckles. “Tell that to my dick.”
He pulls me in for a hug before I can glance down at his dick. I breathe in his citrus scent and soften against him.
“Come on, we should head back to the house.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders again and we turn back.
“So we have to wait four months for everything?” I can’t help but ask.
“Greedy, little warrior?” He laughs. “Maybe not everything, but definitely, as you so elegantly put it, no penis-in-vagina sex.”
My face turns red. Roarke flusters me on so many levels. He gets under my skin, and I can’t help what comes out of my mouth when he provokes me.
“At least not with me,” Aiden finishes as we walk up the steps to the pier. The house is lit from within, and it looks cozy and warm, inviting. Like a home.
A shiver works through me. I can’t think like that. It’s like everything else in my life. This is temporary. Sure, it may be for over a year, but it’s not going to last.
I’m not the girl who ends up with the guy, but I will end up with a future.
That’s enough for me.
He leads me down the walkway and stops at the lounge chairs, a good distance from the house, but we’re no longer visible from the beach.
“I’ll be honest with you.” He sits on a chair and draws me down sideways on his lap. His eyes hold me captive. “I want to kiss you. I want to feel your breasts in my hands and taste your nipples in my mouth.”
My breath catches as his words spark a fire in me.
“I long to trail my hand across your stomach and slip beneath your panties. Feel the heat of your pussy against my palm before sliding my fingers deep inside you until you come all over my hand.”
I whimper as his hand slides along the outside of my bare thigh. Fuck, I want him.
“I love watching them with you, knowing they can bring you pleasure when I have to hold back.” He slides his other hand into my hair and rests his forehead against mine. I breathe him in, aching for him. “But I’m also a possessive man and crave to make you feel what they do. I can’t promise that I’ll always be okay watching from the sidelines, but I won’t lie to you about it either.”
I open my eyes and pull back. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He smiles and tugs my hair slightly back. His darkened gaze drops to my lips, and they part in anticipation.
“Fuck, what I wouldn’t give for a taste, but I don’t trust myself to stop at just a taste.” He brushes his cheek against mine as his lips touch my earlobe. “You see, little warrior, I can see you becoming my drug of choice. Burying my cock inside you to get a fix. Needing you to start and end my day. Craving you when I should be working.”
A little needy noise escapes me, because fuck, I want him so badly. I want to be his addiction, and I know that’s wrong.
“Waiting for you will be hard, but I know you’ll be worth it, little warrior.” His lips skim my cheek as he pulls back. His gaze captures me again, holding me there. “You don’t have to wait for me, though. I don’t expect you to or want you to. You should find whatever you’re craving with the others.”
It doesn’t seem fair. “But—”
He presses his finger against my lips and then traces the outline. “You aren’t battling addiction like I am. You need this awakening. Roarke is right. Don’t worry, I’ll be along for the ride.”
I cup his jaw between my hands and cock an eyebrow. “Can we ease the tension?”
He chuckles darkly. I reach for his hand against my lips and hold it while I suck on his finger. His confession helps to make me bolder. Just because we can’t be intimate in a lot of ways doesn’t mean he has to be in pain or need.
“Can I help you ease the tension?” I clarify, stroking my tongue along his finger. “You can use me when the pressure gets too much.”
“You want me to fuck your mouth for relief?” His eyes hold mine. My heart pounds as my fear of rejection races through me.
“Yes,” I whisper, suddenly unsure of myself. I’m offering an A-list actor the use of my mouth. How many other women have offered him that? My cheeks heat, and I close my eyes.
“Only if you fuck your pussy with your fingers while you do it.”
My eyes pop open to his smile.
“I’d hate to take pleasure and give none in return, little warrior.”