Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Aaron
She practically races me back to her house. I run for fun and for work, but she damn near outpaces me with a speed walk.
“Where’s the fire?” I tease her. She makes it far too easy.
“I just don’t want to have to clean up a mess,” she says, but the blush on her fair skin gives her away.
“You walk faster than most of my men can run,” I say.
“We don’t run in the hospital unless we have to, but nurses have to be everywhere at once. It doesn’t happen by accident.” She shrugs, but I notice her pace slows as I draw level with her.
“You make it hard to hold your hand when you race like that.”
I reach over and brush the back of my hand against hers. She hesitates at the gentle touch. I wrap my pinkie around hers, stopping short of lacing our fingers together.
Her hesitation wounds me a little. I wish she would open up to me. Explain why she’s so hesitant for this thing between us to turn into a more serious arrangement.
Casual, she keeps reminding me.
I don’t know how long we can pretend that this is casual, but I have to at least try to play by her rules. Paige is too hesitant to let me take care of her the way I want to.
I resolve to be grateful for today, for this moment. She’s promised me nothing more.
“The house feels empty without Noah,” she says when we get to her house. “Maybe I should just call Levi and see how he’s doing.”
“Take your time,” I tell her. “I’ll just be in the living room.”
She perks up at my approval, gratitude awash in her features. Before she makes it upstairs, she already has her phone out for a video call.
Something inside of me aches at how much she loves that little boy. I didn’t have any of that growing up. Not a shred of affection. I would never have been the apple of my foster mom’s eye.
Paige’s unconditional love for Noah only makes me want her more. She takes care of everyone around her, almost to a fault. Her brother, the men at the station, Noah, and even Mr. Oakley.
An idea sparks to life, a small gesture that would show her how much I want to take care of her.
Her voice drifts downstairs, letting me know she’s still on the phone with Noah and Levi. Good. That means I have a few minutes.
I rummage around the living room, looking for candles. She has a few tapered pillars, some glass jar candles that smell like fresh peaches, and some tea lights for an oil warmer. I light them all until the room glows.
The blankets cover the couch, but it still doesn’t feel obvious enough. When I hear her voice peter out, I do one more impulsive thing: I roughly pull my shirt over my head and recline on the couch, waiting for her.
“Levi has already taken them to the park and—”
Paige skids to a stop as she rounds the corner to the living room. Her eyes widen at the sight of me on the couch, every line in her body becoming rigid.
“And…?”
“I forgot,” she squeaks. She takes a step back toward the kitchen. “I think maybe I’ll make coffee.”
“We’ve already had coffee.”
I stand from the couch and walk slowly toward her, giving her a chance to look. And she does look, her eyes traveling lower than I intended when I took my shirt off.
I stop in front of her, leaving just a few inches between us. Her throat works to swallow, an exaggerated gesture. She reaches tentatively and places one hand on my chest, warmth spreading outward as she does.
“Is there something you want besides coffee?” I whisper in her ear.
Paige looks up at me, the only encouragement I need to brush my lips against hers. To my surprise, she leans in enthusiastically and quickly deepens the kiss. Heat sparks between us, my lips bruising hers.
I reach down and grab her ass, pulling her into me. When she feels my hardness pressed against her, she arches her back and moves against me. It’s all I can do not to undress her right here. Instead, I pick her up and let her wrap her legs around my waist.
We wind up against the closest wall, not caring what we knock over in the process. The puppies bark from the corner of the living room.
At the sound of her breathless whimper, I lose control.
“Which way is the bedroom?”
* * *
Paige
Aaron taking charge in the bedroom is everything I thought I didn’t need. There’s no way I can’t draw the parallels between this experience and the one I just had with Alexander.
Alexander looked at me with disgust when he saw the softest parts of my body. His hands stilled when he saw the silver stretch marks on my hips, the places where my body grew to accommodate the child I love.
I don’t know what Aaron sees when he looks at me, but it is obviously not the same thing.
When he pulled my clothes off, he took in every inch of my skin like it was a marvel. Like it was part of a piece of art he had never seen before, but wanted to study every square inch before the museum closed.
It was pure. It was desire. It was perfect.
Which is why I don’t hesitate when he asks where the bed is. I wrap myself around him as tightly as I can, nibbling on his earlobe so that he can keep his eyes open as he carries me upstairs and down the hall.
We slam into the walls, colliding with picture frames for more hungry kisses that can’t wait. He’s growing impatient, and so am I. If the first orgasm was that good, what will the second one be like?
Aaron manages to guide us through the bedroom door before he drops me onto the mattress. He breathes hard from the effort of carrying me and holding himself back.
His pupils are blown wide as he rounds the corner of the bed, considering what he wants to do next. I move to sit up, but he pushes me back down gently, watching my body with careful attention.
“There’s something I want to do,” he says, his voice low and even a bit dangerous.
Something about the unknown sends a thrill from the crown of my head down to the soles of my feet, making my toes curl.
He watches my face as he strips out of his clothes. His shirt gets tossed to the side, his muscled chest rippling as he reaches down for his pants. But he doesn’t immediately shuck them off. He carefully unwinds his belt and tugs it free of the belt loops.
“You can stop me anytime,” he promises, holding the belt.
What he wants to do clicks into place.
A giggle rises, but dies just as quickly when he reaches for my wrist and wraps the belt around it. In a matter of just moments, he has me tied to the bed.
I tug, and it doesn’t come free.
“Please don’t leave me here,” I whimper, trying to trust him.
“I’m definitely not going to leave you here.” He climbs onto the bed with me, making it clear that he intends to finish what he started.
He secures my other hand over my head and pins it there with his grip. Then, he climbs on top of me and kisses me deeply, letting me feel his weight against me. His chiseled body presses into every soft curve of mine.
He pinches my nipples, which turn into hard peaks for him. My back arches, the shift positioning him against my entrance. A moan tears from his throat, eyes squeezed shut.
“Condom,” he grits out, reaching for the discarded clothes on the floor to grab his wallet. The foil packet tears open with ease, and he rolls it onto his cock. “Open those legs for me, baby.”
Obediently, I open my legs. He pushes into me less gently than I anticipated. The first thrust is slow, giving me time to adjust to his thickness, his length. Once seated deep inside of me, he gives me a chance to catch my breath.
Then, he pulls back and thrusts into me again, harder.
One hand reaches between us, his thumb circling my swollen clit while he thrusts into me with increasing speed. The wetness between my legs grows, making me desperate for him to thrust into me. I lift my hips to give him a better angle.
“Be a good girl,” he growls into my ear. “Come for me again.”
That single command is all it takes for me to climax again. It feels more intense this time with him buried inside of me, still pushing deep. The sound I make is loud, uninhibited. I bite his shoulder to muffle it.
It must be what he needs because he finally lets go, too. The suddenness of his release reminds me that he wants this—wants me. My body can do this to him. My body can make him lose control.
Aaron is a strong man, but I’m the one who makes him come undone in my bedroom.
He rolls off me with a soft kiss on my lips to discard the condom, and then returns to drape an arm tenderly across my stomach. I shiver at the chill in the room. Goosebumps rise across my chilled skin, creating new sensations as he lazily lies beside me.
I reach for the blankets to cover myself, forgetting my tied wrist.
“A little help?”
“Right,” he says, all business.
As soon as he releases my wrist from his belt, I burrow beneath the blankets.
He watches me with disapproval. “I wish you wouldn’t cover up with those. I like to see you.”
“It’s embarrassing,” I tell him, somehow still managing to feel ashamed of my body after the incredible things he did to me.
“I’ve been dreaming of doing that to you since I first laid eyes on you,” he confesses. “You have no idea how good that felt.”
“I have some idea,” I tease.
I stretch out beneath the blankets, testing my muscles, all deliciously sore. Aaron moves closer, lifting my shoulders just enough to wrap an arm around me. I snuggle against him. He envelops me into him, seamless, as if we were one person rather than two trying to come together.
His bare skin radiates warmth beneath the light covers, all conspiring to make me feel drowsier than I should after two cups of coffee and an almost full night of sleep.
As conversation lulls, my traitorous eyelids grow heavier than I want them to.
Aaron has every right to be exhausted. He just worked a 36-hour shift at the fire station, even if he did doze off for a little while on the clock. It’s not the same as sleeping in your own bed at home.
But me?
No excuses for falling asleep in the same bed as the man who just tied me up with his belt. We can have sex, but sleeping together is intimate territory. There’s nothing casual about sleeping together.
“Would it be the worst thing if we wasted the day in bed?” His words break into my reverie, echoing the threat that looms unspoken.
Only he doesn’t make it sound like a bad thing.
“Levi said he would watch Noah overnight,” I tell him. The words tumble out before I can think about their implication.
Will Aaron stay all night? It’s barely afternoon right now.
Aaron scoops me closer to him so that I’m pressed tightly up against his chest. My head falls below his collarbone, nestled in the hollow. If I’m going to pull away, this is the time to do it.
Instead, I let myself linger in the warmth. I revel in the feel of our legs entwined beneath the cotton sheets. When I tilt my head back to look up at him, his eyes are closed, and his breathing has slowed.
He’s already asleep, and I don’t want to wake him.
I’ll either have to lie here for hours or wake him up.
It feels so strange to have someone else in the bed that has only belonged to Noah and me for the last two years. But Aaron isn’t just a stranger anymore.
He’s been taking care of me. He rescued me from a horrible date, saved me from embarrassment at the wedding, and kept my house from catching fire. There is something different about him, something genuine.
Maybe that’s why I can appreciate how safe his arms feel here in this bed.
I test the waters, closing my eyes and leaning into him. Only they don’t want to reopen a few moments later. I’m being dragged into sleep, even though I promised myself I wouldn’t. I feel like I’m crossing a line in our relationship, but I’m too tired to care.
I let myself drift off.