Chapter 13
Pepper
"My endless loveeeee!" We both belted off-key, our voices screaming into the microphones and echoing off the neon walls. We sang classic hits back-to-back, laughing until our stomachs ached.
It was a bit hazy after that, my memories coming in fragmented, vibrant flashes. I vaguely remembered Aaron leaning against a high-top table, his thumbs navigating his phone to text Cal.
"You are blasted, Pepper," Nia said, an entertained smile on her face as she stepped onto the curb. She and Cal had arrived in a matter of minutes. Nia expertly switched sides with Cal, tossing him his keys so she could follow in Aaron's truck while Cal drove us back.
"I am fucked up!" I cackled, stumbling slightly against the warm night air. "But I won a hundred dollars! Free money!"
Nia burst into a head-shaking laugh. "Same old Pepper. Never change."
Beside us, Aaron walked with a heavy, loose-limbed stride. He roughly grabbed Cal's neck in a playful, brotherly manner, pulling his boy close.
"Thank you, brother. Seriously. I don't even know who else would pick us up this late."
"We were already out, man, it's cool," Cal cheesed, a huge grin on his face, happy to see his usually uptight best friend letting loose for once.
As they walked toward the driver's side, I caught the deep, muffled rumble of Aaron's voice as he muttered straight into Cal's ear, "Did I mention... I'm Lionel Richie?"
I burst out laughing to myself, the sheer absurdity of it making my head spin. Nia's brow furrowed in confusion as she looked between us.
"I'm Diana," I pointed to myself, locking heavy eyes onto Nia. "Nia... I'm in love."
The admission slipped out before my sober defenses could catch it, and I felt my cheeks turning a bright shade of pink.
"I'm so in trouble, Nia," I whispered.
"Oh, girl. Yes. Yes, you are," Nia said honestly, offering a sympathetic look. "Now let's go. You two have a massive corporate meeting in the morning, remember?"
She guided my uncoordinated body into the back seat.
When we finally arrived at Aaron's dark house, Cal killed the engine, and Nia popped out of the truck, switching sides with him again. She walked over to my door, looking at me carefully.
"Do you want us to just take you back to your Airbnb, Pep?"
I looked at Aaron, who was making his way out of the back seat, a bit more sober now. A sudden, fierce wave of desire hit me.
"No... I'm good. Thanks, guys. See you Saturday."
I stepped out and began walking up his driveway without another look back, knowing damn well if I hesitated for a second, I would change my mind.
I waited on the porch, and the moment Aaron reached the steps, I grabbed his muscular arm, leaning into his warmth as he fumbled with his keys to unlock the front door.
"Maybe a glass of water wouldn't hurt," he murmured with a chuckle.
"Nice," my voice sounded softly in the quiet foyer as the door clicked shut behind us.
I slid my high stilettos off, setting them down against the floorboards.
The moment I turned back around, the lighthearted energy vanished. Aaron was standing in the shadows, staring down at me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
In an instant, our mouths were fiercely on each other.
It was a collision of heat. His large, warm hand swiftly cupped my ass, lifting my weight as my legs wrapped securely around his waist. I let out a soft, ragged moan of delight as he pinned me against the wall, trailing burning kisses down the sensitive skin of my neck.
I nibbled at his earlobe, and the low, deep groan that escaped his chest sent a wild shiver straight to my toes.
He carried me toward the living area, both of our breathings hitched and heavy. He spun us around and dropped me gently onto the plush cushions of the couch, his powerful body immediately covering mine.
His weight felt good pressing down on top of me. His kisses were amazing—deep, hungry, and unhurried, like he had been starving for me all day. It drove me crazy.
My fingers tangled in the fabric of his tee, lifting it over his head and tossing it to the floor. I reached up, my bare palms finally touching his chiseled chest and abs—the exact thing I had been daydreaming about since our run at the park.
I gasped against his lips, my hand slowly starting to slide down the front of his jeans. But just as my fingers brushed his waistband, Aaron gripped my wrist, stopping my movement.
His breathing was heavy, his chest heaving against my small breasts.
"Pepper, wait," he gasped out, his voice thick and rough.
"What's wrong?" I asked, suddenly realizing just how dizzy I was from the combination of the alcohol and his intoxicating kisses.
Aaron looked down at me, his dark eyes swirling with a mixture of intense conflict and pure adoration.
"I don't want you like this," he whispered, his thumb gently tracing my jawline. "I want you. Really bad. More than I've ever wanted anybody, Pepper. But I want you sober. I want us to be in our right minds so we can remember every single detail."
A melting warmth flooded my chest. It was one of the sweetest things any guy had ever said to me. Most men in his position would have jumped at the opportunity, but his desire to have me fully present only made him a thousand times more attractive.
I smiled up at him, my heart swelling. "Okay," I said softly, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck. "But you can at least cuddle me."
I slid out from under him, standing up from the couch and rolling my hips as I walked toward the staircase.
Aaron stood up, adjusting his black jeans, but there was no hiding the fact that his manhood stood at rigid attention under the denim.
He hurried after me, grabbing my hand and leading the way up the steps.
His bedroom was exactly how I had pictured it—spacious and meticulously neat. I watched him disappear into a walk-in closet to find something for me to wear. Left alone by the mattress, I reached down and stripped out of my skirt, leaving me standing in just my tiny thong and tube top.
The second Aaron stepped back into the room, his gaze scanned my bare body, and he froze. A low groan escaped him as he slowly swiped a hand over his face.
"What are you doing to me?" he breathed, his voice thick with a mix of torture and desire. "Cover yourself."
He lightly tossed a clean, soft grey T-shirt toward my chest. I smiled, lifting my knit top over my head without a care. Aaron textbook hurried to turn his back, refusing to look while I was indecent.
I laughed softly to myself, sliding his massive shirt over my head. "Such a gentleman," I teased lazily.
I climbed onto the mattress, watching as he stripped down to his boxer briefs before sliding into the sheets right next to me. We laid on our sides, our faces just inches apart on the pillows in the quiet, dim room.
"I like you," he said softly, his expression entirely defenseless.
"I like you," I repeated, my voice barely a whisper.
He leaned across the small space and placed a lingering kiss against my forehead. "Go to bed, Red," he murmured.
With a gentle shift of his large hands, he turned my body around so my back was pressed flush against his chest. He pulled me close, wrapping his warm arms securely around my waist and tucking me tight against his hard frame.
Held in his embrace, surrounded by his clean, familiar scent, I felt safe and protected.
The ease of his presence made me unexpectedly emotional.
I closed my eyes, dozing off to the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.
I fell asleep content, oblivious to the reality waiting on the other side of dawn.
When my eyes finally flew open at Aaron's frantic words, the hangover hit me like a physical slap to the face.
The pounding in my temples was instantly eclipsed by the sheer panic of the digital clock on the nightstand.
7:15 AM.
We had forty-five minutes to get across Houston and walk into a multi-million-dollar presentation.
Aaron sprinted out of the room to grab clothes, and when he marched back in, he handed me a pair of grey cotton shorts and a matching crewneck tee.
My attention immediately zeroed in on the outfit. My stomach gave an unexpected twist, and an ugly twinge of hot jealousy flared up in my chest. A matching women's lounge set? In his guest closet? Who the hell did this belong to?
I stared at the fabric, ready to launch a full investigation, until I caught the plastic tracking tags still securely fastened to the seams.
Brand new. Never worn. It was Jolt Noir inventory.
I let out a long breath of relief, mentally slapping myself. Get it together, Pepper. You don't have time to be a possessive psycho right now.
I rushed into the guest bathroom next door, giving the modern tiles a quick glance before diving into survival mode.
I washed the sleep from my face with freezing cold water, scrubbed my teeth with one of the packaged toothbrushes he'd left out, and grabbed the thick black band I always kept wrapped around my wrist.
Yanking my massive crown of curls back, I secured them into a neat, low bun at the nape of my neck, pulling a few loose pieces out in the front to frame my face.
Digging into my mini clutch, I salvaged my emergency makeup stash, quickly applying a swipe of lip gloss, a coat of mascara, and a brush of pink blush to make myself look alive.
When I hurried downstairs, Aaron was already standing by the marble kitchen island. He had thrown on a fitted cobalt blue polo and dark slacks, looking good despite the rush, and was currently securing the lids onto two stainless-steel travel mugs of piping hot black coffee.
I smiled at the gesture, stepping into my six-inch Tom Ford heels. Strangely, the killer stilettos paired with the oversized grey cotton shorts and tee made the outfit look casual-chic, like I'd planned it for a high-fashion streetwear editorial.
Aaron looked up, his dark eyes sweeping over my hastily thrown-together wardrobe. He froze for a split second, a deep rumble escaping his throat.