Page 176 of Manhattan Bossholes

“The last thing I want is my mother walking in on us.”

“Then it’ll really be like we’re back in high school.”

The memory should have embarrassed me—both of us half-dressed, dry-humping, trying to figure out this sex thing as my mother stood in the doorway, gaping—but all I could think about was getting Aiden naked.

The drive to the house was a blur of emotions. Red hot heat and desire and tantalizing frustration surged through me as Aiden rested one hand on my leg where my dress rode up my thighs, fingers tracing slow circles on the skin just inches below my panties. It took everything inside me not to move his hand to where I ached for him, leaving me squirming in my seat. Judging by the smirk on Aiden’s lips, he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

Before I knew it, we’d pulled onto the stamped-concrete driveway, stopping in front of a large house with a sprawling yard. Of course, I recognized it immediately. It was the nicest house in town, though no one had lived there for years. Mostly, it was rented out for weddings or special events, but I guess when you’re a billionaire, having the house to yourself for a weekend was a reasonable choice.

Aiden walked around the car, opening my door and offering me a hand. He guided me up the front porch and plugged a code into the keypad by the door as my heart hammered with anticipation. The door clicked open, and I stepped into a softly lit foyer that opened to high ceilings, gleaming hardwood floors, and massive windows. Growing up in town, I’d seen the house from the outside, but I’d never seen what it looked like on the inside. On any other day, I’d have been impressed—but right now, it was hard to concentrate on anything other than how badly I needed to be touched. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long.

I was immediately drawn back into Aiden’s arms, like a moth to a flame, using my body to say things I couldn’t yet say out loud. As the space between us shrank, it felt like nothing could disturb this moment. This perfect, perfect moment.

“Want to see the master bedroom?” he asked, nibbling at my neck. “There’s a jacuzzi in the en suite.”

I hummed. “How’s the bed?”

“I think you’ll find it to your liking.” He wrapped his hand around my waist, leading me to the bedroom where a king-sized bed draped with beautiful linens stood proudly in the center of the room. Elegant French doors opened to a private balcony, and there was a massive framed portrait on the wall cleverly hiding a TV.

As we stepped inside, Aiden turned down the lights, and it felt like we’d been shut off from the outside world. He turned to face me, those crystal blue eyes suddenly dark and intense. He was a predator hunting down his prey, and I wanted to be devoured. “Thoughts?” he asked.

I couldn’t take it anymore. That was my only thought. I surged into his arms, going straight for the buttons on his dress shirt.

“I can work with that,” Aiden said.

I huffed a laugh as our lips met again, but it quickly burned up in the force of the kiss, and this time there was no standing-in-the-middle-of-the-football-field to stop us. I didn’t hold back, and neither did Aiden, searching out the zipper on my dress. He peeled it down my back, pressing his palm flat against my spine, and I trembled as his fingertips played with the lacy edge of my underwear.

We stumbled toward the bed, neither of us breaking contact. If I’d had any reservations about this moment, I’d long since forgotten them. All I could think about was peeling Aiden out of that damn dress shirt.

A rustle of clothes, and my dress pooled around my ankles.

“Beautiful,” Aiden muttered, running his finger over the swell of my breast where it peeked out over the cup of my bra. He looked at me like he wanted to consume me, and boy did I want him to. But first, I wanted him naked. I went for the buttons again, getting my hands inside his dress shirt. He pulled it free of his pants, and I did the rest, shoving it over perfectly muscled shoulders.

“This is bringing back memories,” he said.

“Of high school?”

“No, the GQ shoot.” He burst into laughter at the look on my face.

“Very funny. I’m sure some little intern couldn’t wait to get her hands on your abs to oil you up.”

“And what about you?” he asked, his smirk dark, devious.

I ran my hands down his chest, over those glorious pecs, tracing the hard muscle of his six pack. Damn, they really hadn’t airbrushed anything at all. He kissed me, hard, and the bulge of his erection pressed against my belly. I squeezed my thighs together. “I’d really like you to take your pants off.”

He smirked. “Ask and you shall receive.” While staring into my eyes, Aiden undid his belt, tantalizingly slow, popping the button and pulling down his zipper. He shoved them down his legs with far less ceremony, rising up to his full height. It took me a moment to realize I was staring.

His cock sprang to attention, practically calling my name. He’d always been an impressive length; I’d just never appreciated it back in high school. What the hell did I know about sex back then?

But now…Now I had to admit the Cocktail King truly did not disappoint.

Aiden reached for me, pulling me closer, and I let my hand drift down the fine stretch of hair on his stomach to palm his cock. I took the length in my hand, relearning the weight of it, the feel. Aiden’s eyes closed, his nostrils flaring. “Yes,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

Then he kissed me again, and my brain short circuited. I forgot what my hand was doing. Maybe that was his plan all along as he popped the back of my bra open. The material slipped down my arms, and I tossed it toward my dress.

Aiden’s fingertips grazed my nipples, playing with the hardening points until I was moaning desperately. Then he scooped me up and deposited me on the bed.

“Lie back,” he said.