Page 68 of Miss Typed

His hands guided my hips, but he let me set the rhythm. Let me ease into this new marvel at my own pace.

I rocked back to see his face, and he didn’t disappoint. Pure arousal was reflected in his eyes. His lips captured mine as he increased the tempo by grabbing my hips.

“Oh, God.” I was building. As soon as he placed one hand between us, rubbing circles on my clit, I was done for. I went toppling over a cliff of pleasure. In a free fall between conscious state and oblivion, my head felt full of white light and my body was on autopilot.

Vaguely, I noticed when Aiden’s body went taut. He held me in place while thrusting up from beneath me, finally holding on his deepest stroke and growling out a string of expletives.

We sat there for a moment, both of us steadying our breath. Both of us recovering. At last, when I thought I could maybe speak, I met his gaze. It was already locked on mine. “Hi.”

His mouth tipped up. “Hi. Are you—?”

“I’m incredible. I mean, you were. This was—”

“Incredible,” he offered since my ability to string together coherent sentences had clearly not returned.

“Yeah. Here, um, let me get up.” The soreness reappeared the moment I slid off of him.

He must’ve seen it on my face. He stood up, quickly taking off the condom and tying the top of it before doing up his trousers. “Come on. I’ll draw you a bath.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Aiden

I’d been reluctant to leave Chloe asleep in bed, but I was trying to be considerate, figuring she’d be sore. The sex had been—to use her word—incredible. No awkwardness, no weirdness over my injury. I hadn’t been wrapped up in self-doubt, nor had I obsessed about my leg, not even after her bath, when we curled up via candlelight, together in my bed of rose petals for more kissing and sleep. On top of the great sex, Chloe’s appreciation for those small touches had been deeply gratifying.

I went downstairs at seven o’clock sharp and, with a series of knocks on his door, woke Reid up for the gym. It was important to get my best friend’s ass out of bed and into a routine, one which didn’t involve drowning his breakup in alcohol.

“Crap,” he muttered when he answered the door, looking hungover and half asleep. “Shouldn’t you be in bed doing more pleasurable things than torturing me?”

I entered his apartment without any sympathy. “That’s why I need you to hurry, so I can get back to my bed. Get dressed. You’ll thank me later.”

“Doubtful,” he muttered but walked back to his bedroom.

He came out five minutes later, sloppily dressed for the gym. It would do.

I handed him a bottle of water once we reached my car. “Hydrate so you can sweat out more than bourbon.”

He grunted. “I owe you another apology for interrupting your evening. When did you two start dating, by the way?”

My lips pursed. “It’s been building for a couple weeks.”

“Is it serious?”

I wasn’t ready to talk about it. Not even with my best friend. Chloe wasn’t a casual-sex type of girl, and I wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. But we were somewhere in the middle.

“We’re dating, and it’s new,” was the only thing I could offer.

He peered out the window, not saying anything, but I could practically hear his brain humming.

“If you have something to say, spit it out.”

“I was thinking we should move her to work for me. Then Teagan can work for you.”

“No.” I pulled into the gym lot and, after putting the car in park, turned to face him. I was comfortable working with Chloe and felt like we could keep the professional lines intact when we were at work.

“No? Aiden, you’re her boss and—”

“There are no rules against it, and she’s not moving. And as you said, Teagan working for me would be a disaster. You’re the HR director for one more week. Ignore this for that week and then return to just being my friend and coworker.”