11. Aiden
Aiden
Iwake with Paige’s knee hooked over my thigh and her hair spread across my chest.
Pale morning light slips around the curtains, so it cannot be much past six. The water bottle from last night sits on her nightstand. Beside it is the paperback she hid from me the first time I touched her. Her breathing stays slow against my skin.
I have no idea which side of the bed is hers.
Last night, the answer was whichever side put her against me.
My hand rests at her waist beneath the quilt. I leave it there, though every instinct wants to pull her closer and decide this is how our mornings work now.
Waking up in her bed doesn’t give me the rest of her day.
Paige shifts, her knee sliding higher before her eyes open. She studies my chest, then lifts her head and finds me watching her.
“You stayed.”
“You fell asleep on me.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re still here.”
“I considered leaving, but you had one leg wrapped around me.”
“I did not.”
“You’re doing it right now.”
She glances down at the knee hooked over my thigh. “That could be accidental.”
“I wasn’t willing to risk waking you to investigate.”
The corner of her mouth lifts. “Very considerate.”
“I have my moments.”
“How long have you been awake?”
“A few minutes.”
“Planning your escape?”
“Waiting to see what you want.”
The humor in her eyes softens. “I want coffee eventually.”
“I can make coffee.”
“That sounded dangerously domestic.”
“I know how to operate a machine.”
“I’ve seen your hiking preparations. You probably brought a backup coffeepot.”
“Only an extra filter.”
She laughs and settles her chin on my chest. “How thoughtful.”
“How do you feel?”
“Like I hiked six miles and then made another questionable athletic decision.”
My hand moves over her hip. “Sore?”
“A little.” Her fingers trace the center of my chest. “Worth it.”
Hearing her say that makes it difficult to remember I meant to let her set the pace this morning.
“When do you need to leave?” she asks.
“When you want me to.”
“I didn’t say I wanted you to.”
“Good.”
Paige leans up and kisses me, her mouth warm and unhurried. Her body is soft against mine beneath the quilt, and I keep my hand at her waist, waiting for her to decide where this goes.
She doesn’t hesitate.
Her palm slides down my stomach and closes around my cock.
My hips tense instantly. “Paige.”
“You’re very responsive in the morning.”
“You have your hand wrapped around my cock.”
“I’m aware.”
She strokes me once, watching my face with the same concentration I used on her last night. Then she pushes the quilt down and shifts over me.
My voice is already rough. “What are you doing?”
“More research.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“I know.” She kisses the hard line beneath my stomach. “I want to know what makes you lose that steady voice.”
Her tongue slides over the head of my cock.
My fingers close around the quilt.
Paige looks up, satisfaction bright in her eyes, then wraps her lips around me.
“Fuck.”
The wet heat of her mouth sends every muscle in my body tight. She takes a few inches, pulls back, and circles her tongue around the head while her hand strokes the rest of my length.
She lifts her mouth enough to speak. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“What you like.”
“You want instructions with my cock in your mouth?”
“I asked for them.”
Her blunt answer sends another rush of blood into my already painful erection.
“Keep your hand tighter at the base.”
She adjusts her grip. “Like this?”
“Yes.”
Her mouth closes over me again. This time, her hand moves with her lips, firm and slick, and a groan tears out of my chest.
Paige hums around my cock.
“Jesus Christ.” My hips lift before I catch myself.
She releases me with a quiet pop. “You can touch me.”
I slide my hand into her hair, but I don’t move her. “Where?”
Paige guides my palm to the back of her head. “Here. If you want more, show me.”
My control takes another hard hit.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” She strokes me slowly. “Show me how you want your cock sucked.”
I tighten my fingers in her hair and guide her mouth back down.
“Take me deeper.”
She does.
Paige takes another inch, pauses, then breathes through her nose and lowers her mouth again. Her eyes remain on mine while I guide her, giving her plenty of time to stop me or change the pressure.
She doesn’t.
“Fuck, sweetheart. That smart mouth looks so fucking good wrapped around my cock.”
Her eyes brighten at the praise.
She pulls almost all the way off before sucking me deep again. My grip tightens, and a low groan leaves me.
“You like hearing that?”
Paige hums an answer.
The vibration rolls through my cock and tightens my balls.
“Of course you do.” I brush her hair away from her face so I can see every inch she takes. “You like knowing you’re the one who makes me lose control.”
She slides down farther.
“That’s it. Take what you can.”
Her lips reach lower, and my control begins to fray. She hollows her cheeks as she pulls back, dragging her tongue along the underside of my cock.
“Jesus, Paige.”
She watches everything. The way my stomach tightens. The change in my breathing. The harder pull of my fingers in her hair. Every time she finds something I like, she does it again.
She isn’t nervous or embarrassed. She’s figuring out exactly what gets a reaction from me, and the satisfaction in her eyes tells me she’s enjoying every second of it.
My hand tightens in her hair. “Use your tongue beneath the head. Right there.”
She follows the direction, flicking the sensitive spot while her hand twists over the base.
Pleasure hits hard enough to lift my hips.
“Good girl.”
She moans around me.
“Fuck.” I stare down at her. “You like having my cock in your mouth while I tell you exactly how to suck it, don’t you?”
Her fingers tighten at the base, and she takes me deeper in answer.
The sight of it nearly finishes me.
“Paige, I’m close.”
She keeps going.
I loosen my grip enough to give her the choice to pull away. “I’m going to come.”
Her eyes lift to mine.
She doesn’t stop.
Instead, she drags her tongue beneath the head again and sucks harder.
“You want it in your mouth?”
Paige gives me another low, deliberate hum.
Every muscle in my body pulls tight.
“Then look at me.”
Her eyes stay on mine as she works her mouth over my cock. The sight of her lips stretched around me destroys the last of my control.
“Fuck, sweetheart. I’m coming.”
My orgasm hits hard. Her name leaves me in a broken groan as I come in her mouth. Paige keeps her lips sealed around my cock, taking every pulse while her hand continues its slow stroke at the base.
She swallows, and my hips jerk beneath her.
“Jesus Christ.”
When she finally releases me, I drag her up my body and kiss her. She laughs against my mouth, so pleased with herself that I want to turn her beneath me and spend the rest of the morning returning the favor.
Every instinct I have wants to take over, but I keep the kiss slow. She told me she’s sore, and I’m not going to let my need decide what her body can take.
Paige brushes her thumb across my jaw. “There it is.”
“What?”
“Proof.”
“Of what?”
Her smile turns smug. “That I can make Aiden Slade come so hard he forgets how to talk.”
“I said your name.”
“Eventually.”
By the time I follow Paige into the kitchen, she has pulled on sleep shorts and a faded library sweatshirt, and coffee is working its way through the machine.
I am clean after the shower, but my clothes are wrinkled from leaving them on her floor.
Paige looks me over as she hands me a mug. “You appear slightly less scandalous dressed.”
“Disappointed?”
“I said slightly.”
I take a drink. “You make good coffee.”
“I pressed one button.”
I take another sip, watching her. “Still. I like how you get things done.”
“Careful, rancher. That kind of talk gets a person assigned to breakfast duty.”
I open her refrigerator. “Already doing it.”
She leans against the counter while I pull out eggs, butter, and a carton of strawberries. “You’re making yourself comfortable in my kitchen.”
“I know where you keep the pans.”
“Because you opened three cabinets.”
“Efficiently.”
Her gaze follows me while I set a skillet on the stove.
After last night, standing barefoot in her kitchen feels as intimate as anything we did in her bed.
I like knowing she takes her coffee with one sugar and that she owns exactly one decent frying pan.
I could make a routine out of this before she finishes her first cup.
That is precisely why I need to keep this conversation smaller than everything I want.
I face her, leaning back against the counter. “There’s something I want to be clear about.”
Paige lifts her mug. “Your tone says you brought a contract.”
“No contract.”
“A spreadsheet?”
“Paige.”
Her expression shifts when she hears the seriousness in my voice. “Okay. Tell me.”
I turn down the burner. “We agreed last Friday that neither of us is sleeping with anyone else.”
“We did.”
“Last night didn’t change my answer.”
She takes another sip. “Mine either.”
Her immediate answer eases the tension across my shoulders. “Good.”
“So we’re putting a label on this over eggs, rancher?”
“It was a boundary last week. It’s still a boundary.”
She arches a brow. “A boundary that sounds like it drives a truck.”
I slide the eggs onto two plates. “Do you want to keep mocking the boundary, or do you want breakfast?”
“Both.”
I set her plate in front of her, then brace my hands on the other side of the island. “I’m not asking you to define the future over scrambled eggs. I am asking for honesty. If you want someone else, or if this stops working for you, you tell me.”
“Before I act on it.”
“Yes.”
She studies me, alert now beneath the teasing. “Same rule for you.”
“You have it.”
“Is that all you’re asking for?”
“Today.”
Her brow rises. “That wasn’t my question.”
“No. It isn’t all I want.” I hold her gaze because pretending otherwise would break the honesty I just asked from her. “It’s all I’m asking you to agree to over breakfast.”
Her fingers ease around her mug. “I appreciate the distinction.”
“I can want more without assuming you’ve chosen it, too.”