Chapter 21 KATIE #2
“The will to live, if it’s going,” I force a smile, trying to stop my trembling hands and keep some heat in my body. It’s easier said than done when I’m wearing next to nothing. Aiden didn’t even seem to notice the dress. All that effort for nothing.
“I’d offer you my jacket, but I don’t want AJ getting the wrong idea,” Keith remarks, leaning against the wall.
“I doubt he’d care.”
“I’m not willing to bet my neck on that doubt,” he replies, a flicker of anxiety sparks in his dark eyes. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
“Thank you.”
I hear Aiden before I see him. He roars like a drill sergeant, his voice booming through the hallway. I can tell it’s him; I’d know his voice anywhere, despite never hearing that tone before. He sounds pissed.
The door swings open, and Aiden storms in, his face contorting from pure rage to concern as soon as he claps his eyes on me curled up on the end of the couch. He rushes over, his footsteps heavy and urgent, and kneels beside me. “Bug?”
“I hate Dublin.” I mumble, my voice barely audible.
Aiden’s brows furrow even deeper as he gently places a hand on my arm. “You’re freezing, baby.”
I wouldn’t be this cold if I just stuck with the leggings, but no, I wanted to try and be sexy for him. “You didn’t even notice my dress.” Is it the most childish thing I could say right now? Probably. But it’s the only thing pushing through the anxiety and pain in my head.
“That is the strangest argument you’ve ever picked with me,” Aiden says with a half-smile.
“I’d have to be blind to not appreciate how stunning you look in that dress,” he guides my chin up with the tips of his fingers.
“But some wanker had his hands all over you, so I was a bit preoccupied with that.”
“Two wankers.”
“I know,” he growls. His knuckles are bruised, and I notice some mild blood spatter on his shirt.
I reach out to touch his bruised knuckles. “That looks sore.”
“It’s not.” He doesn’t even flinch when my fingers brush over the inflamed skin. “I should have hit the prick harder.” His eyes drop to the transparent lace that makes up the top half of my dress. “Seriously, what are you wearing?”
I blush and quickly retract my hand. “You don’t like it?”
“Liking it is not the issue here, bug,” he sits back on his heels, pulling me up to stand in front of him. “Turn around.” I slowly turn, hearing his low, throaty growl as he takes in the back of my dress.
Aiden stops me midway, running his fingers along the hem that sits just beneath my rear.
His lips press against the medusa tattoo on my thigh.
“You’re making it damn near impossible for me to keep my hands off you.
” He gets to his full height. In my heels, I’m almost at eye level with him.
“Fuck, bug, those legs.” Aiden’s hands slide up my thighs, then slam down on my hips, I’m lifted off the ground, my legs wrapping around his waist. He carries me to the nearest wall, pinning me against it with a hunger in his eyes.
“I’m here for the key, remember?” My lips graze his as I add, “I’m to wait for you at your house.”
“If you think that I’m stupid enough to let you walk out of here, looking like that, without me, you’re sorely mistaken.” His mouth slants over mine, his grip tightening around my waist.
Damn it. What is it about him that makes me crave his touch? His kiss steals the breath from my lungs, leaving me dizzy and wanting more. More of his kiss and his touch. More Aiden. More of this all-consuming red flag that I’m too colorblind to see.
The weight of his arousal rubs against my thigh as he presses himself closer to me. My mind screams at me to push him away, but my body betrays me, responding to his touch with a mixture of desire and confusion.
This man is dangerous. He carries a gun. He hurts people. I should stop. I should push him away and distance myself from him before it’s too late.
It is too late.
I’ve already fallen for him.
I was completely oblivious to the fact that he had breached my walls and captured my heart. Trust me to fall for the first person to see me as more than a burden. I think I’m even more fucked up than he is. I have to be.
Fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, Aiden bats my hands away and rips it open, revealing his sculpted, tattooed chest. “Better?”
“Much,” I grin against his lips, my hands sliding between us to the belt buckle of his tailored pants.
His teeth graze my neck. “If you open that, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll feel me for days.”
My hand stills, he did that already. He did just that in the shower last week, I felt him in every muscle of my body for almost a week.
The way he looks at me—darkened grey eyes, mouth ajar, muscles taut with desire, tells me that he’s giving me a choice. He’s mine if I want him; all I need to do is reach out and take him.
I meet his gaze, and my lips curl upward. “Promise?” The belt is too easy to undo, he quickly discards it, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Last chance, bug,” he licks his lips, watching me pop open the button of his pants and work the zip down. Aiden presses me firmly into the wall, my fingers toying with the waistband of his boxers.
Intense grey eyes meet mine. The dull ache between my legs turns into an unbearable throb. “Take me,” I plead. I need to feel him inside me. I need him to chase the anxiety away. I need this beautifully treacherous man to consume me.
“With pleasure.” His lips capture mine; his fingers push the hem of my dress up, exposing bare skin.
I can’t wait any longer. I need to feel him inside me. Pushing the waistband of his boxers down, I grip him tightly, feeling the head of his thick cock rub against my entrance—
“AJ?” The door creaks open and I release my grip, startled. “Sorry!” Keith spins so fast that he almost falls into the wall.
“Get the fuck out!” Aiden snaps; he hasn’t moved to cover himself or even let me down from his arms.
Keith stammers an apology: “The gardaí want a word.”
I try to wiggle down from Aiden’s hold, but he tightens his grip, refusing to let me go.
“I’m busy!” he growls, and I almost die when a plain clothes garda steps into the room.
“This won’t take long,” the garda says, making a point to turn his head away from our intimate embrace.
“Moore.” Aiden reluctantly releases me, his grip loosening just enough for me to slip out of his arms. Still, he does not attempt to shield himself from prying eyes, instead, he uses his body to block the garda’s view of me. “You’ve caught me at a bad time.”
“I can see that,” not that he’s even thinking about leaving. The man just steps around the chair by the desk and settles himself comfortably, crossing his legs as he pulls out a small notebook from his pocket.
“I’ll walk you inside. You don’t need to hear this.”
“Actually,” Moore flips through some notes, landing on whatever it is he’s looking for, then his eyes flit to me, and he grins. “This is the girlfriend?”
“Clearly,” Aiden responds with little to no emotion in his voice.
“I’ll need to speak to you too,” Moore offers up a shit-eating grin, and I can’t help but wonder what the hell is going on.
“Give us a minute.” Aiden gestures to his mostly naked body and raises an eyebrow at me, silently asking if I’m okay with it.
My eyes fall to Aiden’s blood-splattered shirt—the shirt that the garda has thankfully not noticed yet. I don’t think; I grab it on instinct, balling it in my hands and allowing Aiden to guide me to one of the adjoining rooms.
As the door clicks behind us, I toss his now buttonless shirt at him and demand, “What the hell is going on?”
Aiden rubs his temples and sighs, “This is about those arseholes.”
“The ones who—”
“Yes,” he interrupts, glancing over his shoulder at the closed door as if he’s expecting Moore’s ear to squeeze through the keyhole. “It’s just some follow-up questions, don’t panic.”
“How does he know about me?”
I watch the man I love fold his arms across his sculpted chest and lean against the door, like he has all the time in the world to explain.
“Since I was here that night,” he begins, the only one of us able to maintain steady eye contact.
Dammit. I’m getting better, but I wish I could hold his gaze long enough to see if he has a tell.
“I had to be struck off the suspect list.”
“That would have happened when you told them what happened, right? About the bouncers chasing them off?” Something about his movements gives me pause. He shifts his weight slightly, a flicker of unease crossing his face.
“I didn’t mention the bouncers.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re not on the CCTV, bug, you are.”
“W-what?” I stammer, my heart pounding in my chest. “B-but you said—”
“Is everything alright in there?” Moore calls.
“In a minute!” Aiden responds, his voice strained. “Can we talk about this later, please? He’s not going to wait.” Moving to the wardrobe on the other side of the room, Aiden pulls out a fresh shirt and a jacket to cover me with.
“You lied to me.”
“I fibbed about a minor detail,” Aiden corrects, having the decency to avert his gaze.
Good, he better be feeling guilty. “I didn’t want to worry you, bug.
He asked where I was, and I told him I was with you all night after leaving here, which is true!
” He unfastens the button on the jacket and helps me put it on.
“But the CCTV—”
“You can’t see your face, but that doesn’t mean you’re not recognisable,” Aiden interrupts. “I’m your alibi, bug. That’s all you need to remember when Moore starts trying to poke holes in what I’ve told them. You have to trust me, baby.”
I gulp; this is too much to take in at once. What the hell is going on? Did Aiden lie to protect me or himself? I nod—the only thing my body allows me to do right now.
Aiden laces his fingers with mine, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze before stepping out to meet Moore.