The camera clicked, and I pressed harder against him. His sharp inhale hissed through the air, slicing straight to my core. For a heartbeat I thought he might pull away, but he stayed frozen.
His gaze dragged down my neck before snapping back to my eyes, heavy, unreadable. Dangerous.
Was I already pushing him too far?
I couldn’t say this was a normal start to a relationship—definitely nothing I’d ever seen in the movies I secretly obsessed over—but it could be the start of ours.
“You really need all this to make him jealous?” he asked, his words rough.
“Probably not, but I prefer him to really regret being a dick to me, and now he’s going to wonder what had been going on between us the entire time.”
“You wouldn’t cheat on him.”
“No, but he seems to think so low of me. Why not let it haunthim a bit? He can think about all those late nights I spent with you at the garage. On the back of your bike constantly. He’ll wonder about every single interaction.”
“You live to ruin lives.” He shifted and turned away.
“You could at least pretend to be into me for the sake of the photo.”
My lips brushed his cheek again, heat sparking through me as my hand slid up the solid line of his bicep. My pulse thundered, each beat louder than the last, but he stayed unmoving.
The tension between us stretched so tight I wanted to wrap myself around him to find a release.
Could he really not feel it?
Finally, the smallest crack appeared.
His hand twitched like he wanted to pull away, but he didn’t. A war flickered in his eyes, sharp and conflicted, and I wondered if it had anything to do with me at all—or if anyone pressing this close would chip away at his control.
Maybe it wasn’t desire. Maybe it was only the fact that he hated losing.
His lips parted, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as his gaze grew heavier, darker. The fist he had twisted in the sheets shifted, sliding across the bed until his fingers found my knee, then crept higher, curling around my thigh.
I drew in a sharp breath, but I didn’t back off. Nerves and intent tangled together, wired so tight it almost hurt, and the air between us thickened until I knew I wasn’t the only one caught in it anymore.
So I leaned closer, deliberate this time, testing him, tempting him, daring him to break first.
His gaze caught mine, heavy enough to pin me in place, andthe shiver that ran through me was part warning, part want. For a breathless second I swore this was it—if he kissed me, would it mean he wanted me, or would I be handing him the leverage I had been chasing all along?
Then he broke.
Aiden leaned in suddenly, the tension in his shoulders snapping like a pulled wire. He turned, closing the last inches between us, and his hands swept up my side, rough and unrestrained, before threading into my hair. His grip tightened until pain sparked deliciously down my spine, pulling me toward him. His mouth crushed against mine, tongue fierce and demanding, and all the air between us vanished.
The stiff soldier I knew Aiden to be was gone. In his place was something feral—his body shifting forward until his chest pressed into mine, one hand clamping hard onto my thigh and dragging me across the mattress until I was straddling his lap.
I’d imagined kissing Aiden more times than I’d ever admit, but my fantasies had never come close.
In a world where I was always the one in control, always the one demanding, I opened. I let him take over. He wasn’t soft, or gentle, or hesitant. He was all-consuming.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Evie?” he growled against my throat, teeth scraping down the sensitive skin, each sharp bite forcing me to arch into him.
“Aiden,” I gasped, ready to beg for more—but the sound of his name ripped him out of whatever trance he was in. He wrenched back, standing so abruptly I toppled onto the bed.
“Fuck. What the actual fuck?” His hand drove through his hair, yanking until strands stood on end. His voice cracked raw. “Why the fuck did you do that?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who turned and shoved your tongue down my throat.”
“Fuck, fuck,fuck,” he said, pacing now. “We are going to pretend that didn’t happen and move on.” He looked up, his nostrils flaring as his eyes met mine. “Got it?”
