Chapter 47
forty-seven
. . .
Ceci
After a long, exhausting night at the gala, all I want is to take off my heels and my Spanx, sink into a long bubble bath, and crawl into bed. Aidan’s bow tie hangs loose around his neck, his shirt tail untucked, and seeing him disheveled like this makes me want all sorts of things.
Things I’m allowed to want. Because he loves me. And I love him.
Still, I haven’t pushed him. Whenever he’s ready for more, he’ll let me know.
His hand in mine, I lead him to the bedroom. Tonight was work. Sure, we stood side by side for most of the evening. But we were both “on.” We weren’t there to spend time together. We may have accompanied each other, but we were there to do our jobs.
And we did. Spectacularly, if I do say so.
It was still exhausting. I’ve seen the way fans fawn all over the hockey players, but it was the first time I’ve seen it up close and personal.
People were grabby, overly familiar, and didn’t care if they were stomping all over Aidan’s boundaries.
More than once, I had to politely redirect their attention elsewhere—before I punched them in the face.
That would be inappropriate. I would never resort to physical violence. I would simply… persuade them. With my fists.
Okay, so maybe I’m more of a name-calling, hair-pulling, eye-gouging sort. Aidan deserves to have his boundaries respected, and it pissed me the fuck off when they didn’t adhere to basic fucking decency and keep their greasy, grabby hands off him.
“You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?” my boyfriend says as he drops onto the end of the bed, toeing off his dress shoes.
“They were…” I shake my head. “How do you let them do that?”
“It’s part of the job.”
“It really isn’t,” I mutter.
Barefooted, Aidan stands and approaches me, tugging me into his arms. “My fierce little attack kitten.” He buries his face in my hair. “You’ll protect me, won’t you?”
“I will.”
That’s one thing I’m certain about.
He threads his hand through my hair, tugging gently. The pinpricks in my scalp heat my blood and send desire running through my veins.
“Thank you,” he says. “You’ve always had my back. I don’t think I’ve ever said how much I appreciate it.”
“Why don’t you show me instead?”
Turning in the circle of his arms, I give him my back and lift my hair.
He gets the hint, finding the tiny tab of my zipper and dragging it down my spine. The heavy, sequined material cleaves away to reveal my skin—and the bodysuit I’m wearing underneath.
“Let me,” he murmurs, breath hot in my ear.
I drop the gown to the floor, the fabric pooling around my feet, and he unerringly finds the zipper beneath my underarm. The tight compression suit covers me from knees to chest—it’s my armor as much as it’s my security blanket. It’s meant to be functional, not alluring.
Through the mirror on the wall, I can see the gleam in his eyes as more of my skin is bared to him. His teeth sink into his plush lower lip, his bright blues darken with desire, and the rumbly grunts he lets out are music to my ears.
The bodysuit fits like a glove, which means extricating myself from it isn’t always a sultry come-on, but Aidan makes me feel beautiful.
Goose bumps erupt across my skin, and he kisses my shoulder, then the back of my neck.
Slowly, teasingly, he trails kisses down my spine as he works the spandex over my hips and down my legs.
I face him, my hands moving to his buttons. My fingers fumble as I work the first two free before, with a grunt, I tug, and buttons ping-pong free from the fabric to bounce on the carpet.
“Mine,” I grunt, fusing my mouth to his. My arms circle his waist, tugging his naked torso to mine.
His citrus-and-cedar scent floods my senses, intoxicating as ever. The press of his lips, the scrape of his stubble on my skin, it all winds me higher and higher.
“Pants,” I murmur. “Pants off.”
Aidan chuckles against my mouth. He pulls back, then returns for another quick kiss before finally separating. He makes quick work of his belt, the leather whistling through the loops making my nipples pebble. Without ceremony, he drops his pants and boxer briefs, his cock hard between his legs.
I go to reach for him again, but he bats me away. Instead, he takes me by the hand and crawls onto the bed, the two of us settling on our sides, staring at each other.
“I meant it,” he says suddenly.
“Meant what?”
“Move in with me.”
My breath catches in my throat. “For real?”
“Really, for real,” he confirms. “Be with me. Love me.”
“I do,” I promise. “I will.”
“Ceci, I…” His throat bobs as he gulps. “I want to make this good for you. I want to be good for you.”
“Oh, Wish. You already do.” I run my hand through his hair. “You’re so good to me.”
He reaches for his nightstand, extricating the lube—and a condom. Surprise runs through me, and I do my best to keep it off my face.
“I’m not sure yet,” he says, reading my expression. “I’m… trying.”
“Only if you want to.”
“I do,” he says with a nod. “I want to try again.”
If that’s what he wants, I will do whatever he needs to support him.
“I got something for you,” I say, leaning over to my bedside table.
“You like buying me presents,” Aidan teases. His hand sketches down my arm, over my hip, and back to my waist.
“Yeah, I do.” I retrieve the box and roll back to him, my hand finding his chest. “Is that a problem?”
“I’ve never been spoiled before,” he muses. “I think I might like being spoiled by you.”
Handing him the small box, I hold my breath as I wait for him to react.
A flush floods his cheeks, his freckles standing in stark relief.
“A cock ring?” He raises an eyebrow skeptically.
“A vibrating cock ring,” I clarify.
“And to be clear… this is the only type of ring you want to give me?”
It’s my turn to be confused.
“We’re still on board on the no-marriage thing?”
“Did you… change your mind?”
He shakes his head. “No, if you don’t want that, I still don’t need it. But you’re giving me a ring here, and—”
I burst out laughing. “Aidan, it’s a fucking cock ring, not a marriage proposal.”
“I’d do it, you know,” he says.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’d wear a ring for you. Not on the ice, of course. But I’d wear a ring. If you were concerned.”
“I wasn’t, but thank you.” I pat his chest. “I know you’re committed to me. I don’t need a piece of paper to proclaim that to the world. If you want to wear a ring, I won’t stop you. If you want me to wear one, I will. We can go shopping together. It’s the legalities that I’m concerned about.”
He sits up in bed, pushing the cock ring away. Slowly, I sit up too, holding the sheet to my breasts.
So this won’t be a quickie. Damn it.
“I would sign anything you want me to sign,” Aidan says.
“I don’t want your money. I don’t want your business or any others you start.
Your assets are yours and yours alone. I just want you.
All I want is to tell the world that you’re mine and I’m yours, and we belong to each other.
I don’t need you to change your name. I don’t even need the big wedding. I just need you.”
I chew on my lip.
“I know your ex hurt you. That’s not me. That would never be me,” he says. “I’m asking for you to think about it. I don’t need an answer right now, and I’m not proposing. You say it’s like fitting a square peg into a round hole, but Ceci… you and I, we fit.”
“We do,” I murmur, holding my breath.
“I don’t want to change you. But if there’s even the most remote possibility that you might want this, that you might want forever with me…”
“I do. I want that.” That’s one thing I’m sure about.
“Then we should have a conversation about what that means,” he says. Like it’s that simple. “If you’re sure you don’t want to get married, I can deal with that. But if there’s any piece of you that might want it one day…”
Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I finally let myself consider it. Marriage. Being a wife.
Aidan’s never made me feel like he’s unhappy with the division of labor in our relationship.
I won’t have the same pressures to be the “good little wife” and be 110 percent perfect at all times.
He won’t be upset when I work into the middle of the night, or when I have meetings that cut into our time together, because he understands the way I operate.
He said it on our first date and has proven it every day since.
He doesn’t want to cage me; he wants me to fly free.
He loves me, flaws and all.
And maybe… maybe it will be different this time. Because he’s right; we fit together so seamlessly, it’s difficult to imagine a time when we didn’t know each other. A time when we weren’t us.
That’s not to say either of us is perfect.
I’m well aware of my flaws, and I’m learning his.
But if we can work together to deal with the conflicts that arise, instead of shutting down and avoiding them, maybe I won’t repeat the same mistakes again.
Maybe I can do this the healthy way—because our foundation is already so healthy and strong.
“I’ll think about it,” I finally whisper.
“That’s all I’m asking,” he says. He gives me a lopsided smile, then picks up the box again. “So how does this thing work?”
I stare at him, whiplashed from the rapid change in subject. “That’s it? You’re done?”
Aidan chuckles. “You said you’d think about it. I’m not going to push you. That’s all I wanted.”
I blink. Then I blink again.
And then I launch myself across the bed, tackling him to the mattress. He laughs as I knock him onto his back, then straddle him. His cock is half hard against my ass cheek, his body relaxed and pliant under mine.
“Fuck, I love you.” I kiss him, or he kisses me. His arms circle me, holding me close.
His laugh fades into something softer as I settle against him, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. The room is quiet except for the sound of our breathing and the distant hum of the ceiling fan overhead.
I brush my fingers through his hair, pushing a few strands off his forehead. He looks up at me like he still can’t quite believe I’m here.
“What?” I ask, smiling despite myself.
His hands slide up my back, warm and steady. “Nothing.”
It’s obviously not nothing.
I lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Liar.”
Aidan exhales a quiet laugh, but his expression stays serious. His thumb traces a slow path along my side.
“I just…” He swallows. “I’ve spent so much time wanting this. Wanting you. Sometimes it still feels unreal.”
Something in my chest squeezes.
The teasing response dies before it reaches my tongue. Instead, I rest my forehead against his and let myself sit in the truth of it—the years between us, the near misses, the things neither of us said when we should have.
And now we’re here.
Finally here.
Aidan wraps me in his arms, then rolls me onto my back, settling in the space between my legs.
He buries his face in my neck, his stubble scraping over my sensitive skin as he nuzzles the column of my throat.
My entire body warms under his attention, and I card my fingers through his hair, my other hand tracing down the vertebrae in his spine, memorizing the muscles in his back.
Slowly, achingly slowly, he kisses the hollow of my throat, then down to my collarbone, and down, down, down, right where I want him. He pays attention to each breast, teasing my nipples until the taut buds ache for him.
For the first time, I don’t flinch when he kisses down my belly, over my scars. Instead, I let myself fall back into the pleasure, let it rise to greet me like a warm hug.
And when his tongue meets my clit, my eyes roll back, and it takes everything in me not to thrust my hips up into his mouth.
Aidan bars my hips with his forearm, and damn, that shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
“Let me take care of you,” he says, staring up at me from between my legs, his blue eyes dark with desire. “I’ve got you.”
For now and forever.