Challenge accepted
CHAPTER THIRTY
AIDEN
The ugly green carpet is gone and the timber floor Linnea talked about is exposed. It looks exceptional. It needs a bit of a clean, but so far it doesn’t seem to need replacement.
The structural work is nearly done for Linnea’s team to continue on the ground floor. Pillars have been removed, two of the walls knocked down. It’s open and airy. Much brighter than it was a few weeks ago.
Grafton Street is progressing at pace, and I’d usually be absorbed in it. Instead, I’m entirely absorbed in her.
As if she can sense where my mind is, she lifts her head and finds my gaze from the other side of the room.
She and Olga just returned from the basement where they’ve checked in on the new bar that’s been installed.
They’re updating something on their tablet, probably the vision board or their plans, but she’s as distracted as I am, beaming at me across the bustling room between us.
Olga says something that wins Linnea’s attention back to their tablet.
This place is going to be absolutely stunning. A different vibe from The Orion. A touch darker, but no less unique.
Linnea’s concept for the basement nightclub is wild—literally, wild animals, which came to life when she talked me through it. I’d never even dream this stuff up. Her vision for these places is just extraordinary.
Everything about her is … exactly that. Extraordinary.
As I watch her talking, nodding, brushing a hair off her forehead, I’m filled with such warmth. She’s mine. My home. And she looks incredible in that mind-numbing, figure-hugging navy blue dress of hers.
This past week has been phenomenal—exploring her body, getting to know her mind, what makes her laugh, what causes that little worry crease on her brow. She’s curious about my dad, but I sense she’s being careful whenever family comes up.
But if I tell her now… Will she start doubting me?
I’ve not told anyone the whole story. Not even Mark. Makes it less true. Sort of.
“Oh no,” Linnea gasps, and even through the hammering from upstairs and loud voices of the contractors carrying throughout the space, I hear her clearly.
She squats down and brushes a hand over the timber floor, turns to Olga and says something. I walk over to see what the problem is. Her fingers trace visible cracks in the wood along the wall.
“Can we ignore them?” I ask. “Maybe no one will notice.”
Linnea shakes her head, brushing her hand over it as if petting it. “It’s such a beautiful floor, a crack like this will be all people see.”
“Really?” I ask.
She nods, scanning the room, the newly uncovered antique floor she’s so excited about.
“There’s probably more,” she says, sighing. “When a plank has cracked, it’s inevitable that another will have as well. We need to get this cleaned and checked in case it needs replacement. It’ll be a big job if it does.”
“How about we include Kintsugi as an option?” I ask.
“Repairing them with gold?” Olga asks, and I turn my attention to her. “That’s a ceramic thing. This is wood.”
“Yes, but something similar, I’m sure you could come up with something.
Resin or whatever? Things have history, and cracks show it’s been around for a while.
It’s charming, just as charming as this patina thing you’ve told me about.
All the discolouration, right? Make the cracks into a feature.
I’m not replacing it. I love this floor. ”
Linnea looks up at me, her brow knitted. “Hmm. Cracks could be a symptom of rot. We’ll need a specialist to do a review. You want to know if it’s rotten from the ground up.”
“Oh. Okay, well, get a specialist but don’t do anything to the floor without consulting with me.”
Linnea smirks and shakes her head. “Of course, Aiden.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fish it out to check the screen. It’s Vic.
“Sorry, gotta take this.” I wave to the ladies and answer as I step outside and away from the noise.
“Vic.”
“Hey,” I hear the familiar voice say as I close the door behind me.
“What’s up? I was going to come see you this afternoon, actually. Any news?”
He sighs. “The PI is leaving. She’s made a report for you to read. It’s pretty long. I’ve sent it to your email.”
“Why can’t she tell me in person? It’d be quicker.”
“The short version is that a couple of your employees have made comments on the blog, but you’d need your lawyer to determine whether they are in breach of their NDAs. Likely not.”
“Okay, that’s it? No clues about how the blogger gets their intel?”
“They seem to get input from various sources; the PI said it’s impossible to track.”
Fuck. I grit my teeth. “Did she speak with Katrina? She said she knows the blogger.”
“She did, let me check here, it’s in the report.” Vic hums while typing on a computer. “Searched for her, it comes up with the note that she has an anonymous chat with the blogger on the forum, but it’s new and she’s only shared a few vague scraps of information.”
“Ah.” I was hoping she’d share about Henry. Maybe I was the one being too vague with her.
“Sorry, boss.”
“Don’t apologise, Vic. You’ve done great, thanks for your help and for keeping it under wraps. I’ll leave it there for now.”
I breathe in the warm afternoon air, closing my eyes, calming the disappointment that I won’t be able to catch this blogger as easily as I’d hoped.
“Alright, erm…”
“What?” I blink my eyes open again.
“There’s one thing I thought about.”
“Go on.”
“Do we have security cameras in the clubs?”
“Not inside, that would be against our privacy policies. Why?”
“Just thinking they sometimes share photos that look like street CCTV footage. From the street outside The Orion.”
“Hmm, okay?”
“I asked the PI who it could be, but she said thousands of people can access the public CCTV, and it would be impossible to narrow down.”
“I’m sure she’s right.”
“But I could cross-reference the jobs that allow access to CCTV with our staff and clients and their families and then—”
“Vic,” I say, my voice deep, and I’m narrowing my eyes as if he can see me.
“Boss.”
“I commend your enthusiasm, but stop. This is serious privacy-violation territory, and we’re not going to touch it. Do you hear me?”
Silence.
“Vic, don’t mess with private information.”
“I won’t, boss.”
“Good,” I say, opening the door to return to work. Linnea smiles at me from the hallway. “I appreciate your work on this, Vic. I’ll see you at Millefleuré on Thursday.”
“Bright and early,” he answers before we hang up and I put my phone away.
I step inside and find the beautiful woman I get to call mine, for real. She steps closer and brushes a hand down my forearm. She’s discreet at work, and I appreciate it despite wanting to press her up against the wall and tell everyone to get out.
“What’s happening at Millefleuré?” she asks, playing with my fingertips. “Will I not get to see you Thursday after all?”
“It’s in the morning. I’m just popping by the kitchen team to make sure they have everything they need. I like to do that once in a while.”
“And eat their leftover cheeses and saucissons?”
“And that.” I nod. Her eyebrows lift, and there’s a brightness in her eyes I can’t place.
“Is that why you knew your way around the kitchen so well?”
“Of course. Why else would I?”
“Why else would you, indeed,” she says, shrugging, grinning a bit too widely. It’s such a gorgeous face that everything else I was thinking before is gone. “Come get me when you’re ready to leave.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me, as subtle as a foghorn.
“Now. We go now,” I say and pull her close to me, making her laugh.
“Yours is closest.”
Last time we went to mine, we discussed our arrangement.
I’ll never forget how tense I was when we rode up the lift together.
How her scent was in my nose and I struggled to think straight.
And that was before I grasped how I felt about her.
At the time, I thought it was because I could sense her discomfort, but I know better now…
And this time, we don’t just stand there.
The second the lift doors close, Linnea jumps on me, and I grasp her thighs, pushing her dress up.
I crash into the wall with her wrapped around me.
Her mouth on mine—hungry, desperate. I love it.
My tongue glides over hers and I nibble her bottom lip.
When the lift opens, I hardly register it, just carrying her down the hallway, kissing and laughing all the way.
“I’m going to have to put you down to open the door.”
“No, you don’t,” she says, kissing me. “Try.” She smiles against my mouth.
“Okay, challenge accepted.”
I hike her up to get a better grip with one arm and pin her against the doorframe while she holds on tightly with her legs. I touch the keypad on the door and start putting in my PIN, but she’s grinding on me and the door bleeps in protest to my mistake.
“Hey, you’re making this very hard.”
“It’s already hard,” she whispers, nibbling my earlobe.
“You saucy little tease.”
Finally, I get the code right and manage to open the door before I grasp her thighs again.
“I’m going to make you beg for it,” I growl and she squeals, writhing in my arms.
“Please, Aiden, fuck me already,” she whimpers in my ear, and it’s clear she’s taking the piss, but it still makes my cock throb.
I carry her to the bedroom, it’s bright with the afternoon sun reflecting off the white sheets. My hotel-like room. I wish we were at hers.
“Look at us,” she says and I turn and see what she means. Our reflection in my full-size mirror by the dresser. My hands on her soft thighs, her blond hair cascading over her shoulders. Her smile when our eyes meet in the mirror says it all. My breath catches taking in the sight of us.
“The way you look at me sometimes…” she whispers, turning her face to mine and I follow, pressing my lips to hers.
I sink her down onto my bed, and step back to admire her.
She wiggles her eyebrows at me and pulls that ridiculously hot dress further up her thighs.
“Turn around,” I rasp. It’s been a week of mind-blowing sex and a lot of exploring.
I’ve been very close to getting her to come, and although I’m not making a big deal of it so she won’t feel pressured, I’ve been cataloguing what seems to work best. Today, I’m going to try a different angle.
And she’s already really playful, which will help.
She lies on her stomach, that gorgeous fucking arse hiding under her dress.
I pull it up, revealing those delicious cheeks, and I hook my fingers in her underwear, sliding it over and down, her glistening pussy visible and so ready for me already, as she pushes her arse up and out towards me.
A low rumbling sound comes from inside me.
“Stunning.” I smooth my hands over both her arse cheeks and down her thighs, and with one hand up the inner thighs I nudge her legs further apart and she obliges, moaning, wiggling her arse at me.
“Patience, Linnea, or I’ll just take longer.”
She whimpers, and my cock aches to thrust into this tight pussy, but I have a mission.
I tease her opening with a finger, gathering her arousal on my fingertips and glide my hand through and up to her clit, just the way I’ve learned she likes it.
Her pussy is swollen and pink, and I want to stick my tongue into her, taste her juices, but I wait.
She likes being teased. And I love hearing her beg for more of me.
“I’ve been fantasising about this all day.”
She moans from the bed, her head to the side.
“Are you comfortable there?”
“Mhm, more touching, less talking.”
I chuckle. “Like this?”
I slide my fingers through her wet folds and up to her clit again and she mewls in response. I continue like this, taking care to hear when her breath quickens, enjoying the sounds of her arousal as I move my hand back and forth, her voice growing louder.
Then I stop.
“I’m going to take my time with you, when you’re so impatient.”
“Boo.”
I know she loves it. Her pussy tells me she does. Glistening, more engorged.
Then I get on my knees behind her.
“I need to taste you,” I rasp, and with a big, flat tongue I lick from clit to entrance, and she cries out. “Mmm.” I lap her up, certain she’ll be close again soon. My cock is about to fucking explode in my trousers.
Again, I stop, and she whines. This time I take my clothes off, and she turns her head on the bed, watching me as the shirt and trousers come off.
“Are you going to fuck me yet?” she asks.
“Soon.”
My erection springs free as I pull my boxers down, and she groans at the sight. I love watching her watching me, especially when she has her arse in the air like that.
I slide my fingers through her pussy again, and she turns her head to the other side.
She’s so wet, two of my fingers slide right in and she inhales sharply.
I groan as the walls of her pussy squeeze around my fingers.
I curve them, walking my fingertips inside her, finding what makes her moan, clench, gasp.
It’s when I do a harder hook motion, in and out, that she starts grasping the sheets.
“Oh my God,” she cries. I keep going, fucking her with my fingers, relishing the sounds coming from her and the slapping of the wetness as I move in and out of her. But although it seemed like it was going somewhere, her moans subside after a while. I lost it. But fuck, that was hot. Those sounds.
“Are you ready for me inside you now?” I ask.
“That was so fucking good, Aiden. You make me feel things I’ve never felt,” she says, pushing off from the bed.
“I love touching you.”
“I want to ride you now,” she says, biting her lower lip.
“First, let me get you naked. Sorry, I got carried away.” I pull her dress over her head, and remove her bra.
Kissing her naked breasts, breathing her in.
She hugs me close, my dripping erection against her lower belly.
I press my lips against hers, and we melt together.
Her warm skin against mine. Her soft curves against my hard edges.
I splay my fingers across her back, touching as much of her as I can, sliding one hand into her hair and one down to grasp her arse cheek. I groan into our kiss.
Then she turns us and pushes me onto the bed.
“My turn to be the boss,” she says, a cheeky smile on her face I’ve not seen before, but it’s an expression that hits me right in the chest. I have to see her like this for the rest of my life.