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I had no idea if Aaron was clairvoyant because his eyes suddenly darkened, and his jaw clenched. "Felicity, don't."
A droplet of water hit my hand, and I realized I was crying. I couldn't let him see me like this. "I'm sorry. I have to go."
He stepped in my way, halting my movements. "Whatever is running through that brilliant head of yours, kill it. It's not true."
"Let me go, Aaron," I whispered, lowering my gaze because if I looked him in the eyes, I would really break apart.
"So you can run off and convince yourself that you don't deserve any sort of happiness? Hard pass, baby." His voice was low, knowing, and sympathetic, which I thoroughly detested. I had no idea what he saw when he looked at me, but if it was pity, I didn't want it.
He grabbed my cheek, urging me to look up at him. I didn't. I couldn't. Not when I was on the verge of breaking down, not when he was looking at me like I was the next best thing after chocolate.
"I'm not offering you anything other than pleasure,” he said. “What's so wrong with that?"
At least he was honest. Pleasure, however, was fleeting, and when the haze cleared, I would be right where I started. Alone, desperate, isolated, and, worst of all, even more broken. Because who was I kidding? Aaron was the kind of man young girls were warned to steer clear of. Handsome, charismatic, mysterious.
"I can't. I don't…" I stammered.
"Deserve it?" he offered, running his thumb across my lower lip. His touch was doing different things to me, and I didn't like how much power he was beginning to hold over me with just a touch.
"Fuck that,” he said. “You deserve everything good, Felicity. Who made you think otherwise?"
My eyes lifted to his and widened. Who? How did he know it was a who? No one outside of my family knew. My father had gone to great lengths to hide the story from the media, and I'd made it a point to never discuss the incident with anyone who was not a Wiley.
Was Aaron actually clairvoyant, or was I just an open book? No. This was getting too dangerous. I was treading on very thin ice by being here with him. Somehow, he'd managed to lower my guard enough to get into my pants, and he was trying to break past my walls, and that could not happen.
Drawing strength from the new Felicity I'd spent the last four years building, I squared my shoulders. "I don't care much for pleasure, Aaron, and this was just an experiment. It's good to know you're skilled with your fingers. I'm sure that'll come in very handy during the project. Good night, and please don't bring this up again."
My voice was surprisingly steady, but inside me, a battle raged. This time, Aaron didn't stop me from leaving. I walked with my heart in my throat until I got to the elevator, and when I reached the ground floor, I ran like my life depended on it.
It was about twenty minutes later that I unlocked the door to my apartment and walked in. After I'd moved out almost four years ago, this place had become my sanctuary, a place where I felt safe. I made sure to keep my father and his toxicity out of it, and the only person whom I had willingly invited was my brother, Derick.
Though after the stunt he'd pulled about two weeks ago, he no longer had that privilege.
I'd considered getting a pet—a dog, most likely. I hated cats, but that was too much commitment, and I didn't think I was ready for that kind of responsibility.
Tossing my tote bag and sketchbook on the coffee table, I strolled to the small kitchen to grab a glass of water. I considered logging on to Jungle Justice, but after the evening I had just had, I didn't think I could face AaRogue. My nerves were still shaking from earlier, and all I wanted to do was soak in a hot bath.
Which was what propelled me to the bathroom. Five minutes later, I sank into the hot water, resting my head on one end of the tub while propping my legs up on the other. For a moment, I felt my worries dissipate and sensed my fears melt away until all that was left was a numb sensation gnawing at the back of my mind.
My eyes drifted shut, and my fingers trailed down my chest.
Memories of Aaron's hands on my body flooded my mind, and I felt my body heat up, and it wasn’t due to the water's temperature. God, how he'd expertly manipulated my body and made it his own. My fingers disappeared beneath the water to my core, and when they brushed against my clit, just like he had, I gasped.
I repeated the action, my body burning to life. What had Aaron done to me? Why couldn't I stop thinking about him?
Despite the water, I was still wet, so slipping a finger in was easy. Desperate for that mind-blowing sensation again, I pumped my finger in and out, trying to recreate how Aaron had done it. I added another, but all the good that did me was an aching need in the pit of my stomach…and a shocking realization that he was probably the only one who could make me feel like that.
Using the toy had brought me pleasure, yes, but it paled in comparison to the fierce, earth-shattering euphoria that gripped me when Aaron brought me to completion.
Withdrawing my fingers, I heaved out a deep breath. What was happening with Aaron wasn't too different from what had happened with him—Jeremy Carson, my first love. Or so I'd thought. Turned out, all he'd wanted to do was ruin me, and he'd more or less succeeded.
It’d been a fine ruination unlike any other. One minute, he was regaling me with tales of how he'd always wanted to talk to me but wasn't sure I would give him an audience. Then, the next, after he'd gotten me where he wanted, I was suddenly not the kind of girl he dated.
My self-confidence took the brunt of it. And while my family would argue that losing my self-confidence was nothing compared to almost losing my life, I strongly disagreed. Jeremy had brought out a side to me that I hated, one that was timid and in constant self-doubt.
Even Derick had noticed it. He'd told me a few months after Jeremy and I started dating that he didn’t recognize me anymore. At the time, I hadn't thought much of it. My family had been against the relationship, anyway. Especially my father. He'd warned me several times that Jeremy was bad news, but I didn’t listen. Call it stubbornness or blind fellowship—I didn't care. All I knew was that I was in love with Jeremy; it was the only thing that mattered.
I'd never been a loquacious child. Thankfully, I had Derick for that. But after Jeremy, I'd gone from speaking few words to almost saying nothing at all. He'd maneuvered everything so that my life was wrapped around him. And as a young girl of nineteen who had just experienced love for the first time, I'd been completely blind to the signs.
