Chapter 37
Mia
The warm water settles around me as Aiden picks a dark glass bottle out of his cabinet and sprinkles drops of oil into the tub I’m soaking in. I eye the label. Chamomile.
This man I’m quickly becoming addicted to is so complex I might never figure him out.
His bedroom and bathroom are as sparse as the rest of the house.
Deep gray and wood tones. A bottle of aftershave, a toothbrush, and soap are the only things on his pristine bathroom counter.
The tub I’m stretched out in is bigger than the one in my bathroom.
It seems made for deep relaxation. He drops Epsom salt and more oil into it while water continues to fill around me. Eucalyptus and mint.
Aiden leaves for a minute, then comes back with a bottle of coconut oil. He sheds his sweats and sets two towels beside the tub. After burying his face between my thighs at the table, he’s rock-hard and leaking precum at the tip.
I climb up onto my knees in the tub, ready to take him in my mouth. He’s ruined me for all other men, just like he said he would. He chuckles darkly at me.
“Sit back down, Mia. We’re going to loosen your muscles up and relax you first. But I’ll take you this greedy later.”
He’s the epitome of cool and restrained, whereas I’m already needy again.
I do as I’m told and sit as I let my eyes feast on his powerful body. He’s fucking incredible, and it’s not just his looks, it’s his sheer presence I’m entranced with, and I can’t look away. The deep scratches down his back from my nails make me proud, like my own kind of claiming.
“Getting a good look?” he asks.
“I was just… You look like you were attacked by an animal,” I remark. Some of the scratches are deep.
“I’ve been attacked by worse.” He chuckles.
My eyes drift to the scars that cover him. There are at least five defined bullet holes. Two in his right shoulder. Two on his left arm, another in his stomach, and other markings that may be from shrapnel.
“Those scars… You were shot?” I ask, curious.
“Yes.”
“By who?” I push cautiously, not knowing how much he’ll want to talk.
He taps my shoulder, inching me forward so he can slide in behind me.
“Most of them, I have no idea,” he says slowly, and I can tell he’s still struggling with telling me personal details. “It happened overseas. I’m a SEAL.”
“I know, the girls told me,” I offer, glancing over my shoulder.
The water rises even higher as he settles in, almost cresting the edge of the tub.
Aiden pulls me back to rest against him, and steam rises from our skin.
A warm settling feeling that has nothing to do with the temperature of the water takes hold inside me.
In Aiden’s arms, as he traces one heavy finger over my palm, I’m the most at peace I’ve ever been.
“The girls also said you were a sniper.”
“Not quite. I was a rifleman. I entered SEAL training when I was eighteen, went on my first tour at twenty. I was a machine gunner during that tour, in Afghanistan. My job was to provide cover so my platoon could move. It was also my job not to get hit.”
“And someone shot you?” I turn my face to him, tracing the scars on his arm.
He pushes the hair off my temple and kisses it. I can tell the action was impulsive, unplanned, and for someone so hard and ruthless, his lips are surprisingly soft.
“Yes, many people,” he answers.
I focus on the scar on his arm. I notice tiny little ones all around it, encompassed in ink.
“This one, the shooter was maybe eight or nine. The gun was bigger than he was.” His eyes are distant as he speaks, and I swallow to stop the tears. He was shot by a child.
I can’t even imagine the horror, seeing a child that desensitized, that unmoved by violence and death, that shooting a man would feel normal. My heart breaks for the boy I never met.
“His family was my target. I hid under the frame of their home to watch them and listen to them come and go for eighteen hours. It was my job to give the marines some cover as they cleared buildings in the village. They were rebels, and the boy snuck away from them. He hid behind some half-demolished buildings. He was just doing what he was trained to do. Defending his father, the way I’d defend mine. ”
I continue to trace the scar.
“Did you kill him?” I ask, unsure if I’m prepared for the answer.
“No,” Aiden says evenly. “He was dead before I even knew he hit me. Crossfire from his own family.”
“Fuck…” I whisper, noting the regret in his eyes as he thinks of the boy. “I’m sorry,” I offer, but his eyes harden when I say it.
“Don’t be sorry for me. I lived. Be sorry for the boy and the thousands of others just like him.”
I press my lips against the muscled arm draped over me, feeling the horror of his memory. “I’m sorry for you both.”
Despite the heartbreaking conversation, his big hands trailing over my skin with the scent of these oils has my whole body relaxing, and it soothes the dull ache between my legs from last night.
His touch allows me to inhale his scent, which helps me to relax more than I care to admit, even to myself.
“Your brother would kill me if he knew you were here. In fact, he’d probably try to kill me if he knew you’d just set foot in Lavish, or my clubhouse.” He changes the subject, the icy wall back up for now.
I lift his hand to get a closer look at his scars, tracing them, and he tenses under my touch but then relaxes as I continue.
The perfectly straight line from his surgery is faded now within the ink.
I trace the pin marks as I answer honestly.
“He would, but he’s not here. So that’s a problem for a different day. ”
“That’s not how I handle problems,” Aiden fires back.
“I’m a grown woman. I can handle my brother.” I don’t know if I actually can, but I also don’t know what this is right now. Plus, Mason is hundreds of miles away.
“I don’t think you know your brother. Not the club side of him anyway.”
“I know he tortured the man who raped my sister for a long time before he died. When my sister pointed in your direction, I expected you would suffer the same fate,” I offer. “I may not know everything about club life, but I know my brother’s wrath when it comes to his family.”
“You don’t know mine,” he says, letting the pads of my fingers trace his skin.
“He wouldn’t have the chance to kill me before his life was over.
And he wouldn’t think it through. If he knew you were with me for any reason, he’d attack.
Men like us are trained to fight first and ask questions later. Kill or be killed.”
I think for a moment about his statement, because the way he says it is so sure. It sends a shiver of fear up my spine and reminds me just being here puts all I have left at risk.
“But you didn’t kill me last night,” I whisper, searching his eyes.
“Mmm,” he agrees, and I can tell he doesn’t understand this connection any more than I do. “Don’t ever lie to me again.”
His warning feels like a plea more than a threat, but I know he means it with everything in him. Next time I won’t be so lucky.
Aiden reaches for a brown bottle and pats my thigh, signaling for me to slide to the other end of the tub.
I have no idea what he’s doing until he brings my feet to his lap.
He squeezes some of the silky, coconut-smelling liquid into his big hands and slides them down each leg, massaging and kneading as he goes.
My eyes roll back and, amazingly, even the way he massages my feet makes my core heat for him.
I breathe out a sigh as I focus on the delicious pressure, and the smile I so rarely see lights me up from the inside out as it takes over his gorgeous face.
“You like to pretend you don’t want to be taken care of, but look at you now. Purring like a kitten for me.”
“Mm-hmm…please never stop,” I mutter, my head falling back and my eyes falling closed again.
“Enjoy it. You’re gonna need it. We have a long ride ahead,” he says.
I blink up at him. “Where are we going? I’m supposed to work.”
“Your boss is giving you the day off. There’s a small ride planned out to Jekyll Island today. My whole club goes, and some others.”
I remember Roz telling me about this yesterday.
“After, there’s a party on a brother’s land. A barbecue and a band. I have some contacts lined up to talk to about your sister’s assault. You’re coming with me.”
“Other clubs? Will the Hounds be there?” I panic, sitting up a little straighter in the tub. My brother might not be here, but all it would take would be one Hounds member to see us, and my brother would be on a fucking rampage. And I’m just not prepared for that yet.
“No,” he answers firmly enough that it makes me relax a little.
“How do you know?” I ask.
Aiden’s lips come down to kiss the tips of my toes, and he lingers there for a moment. Even my size nine foot seems small in his big hands.
“Because the ride is in memory of my father.”
Oh.
The scent of the oils mixing with the hot water and bath salts as he rubs my feet makes me almost dizzy as a deep calm spreads through me. So much so, that when I stand to get out of the tub twenty minutes later, my legs are a bit unsteady.
Aiden stands with me, gripping me tight as he slides his hands over my wet body, kissing my shoulder. I can feel him growing harder by the second, pressing against me.
“I don’t even have clean clothes here,” I say, picking up a towel.
“Mmmm,” he hums into my neck as he squeezes tight again. “Clothing is the last thing you need, Rhiannon.”