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Aiden: I hope that doesn’t scare you?
For some reason it doesn’t. That kiss we shared felt so right, like every part of him was speaking to every part of me. I think I’d know if he was a stalker or something. So I decide to ask him why he’s staying at the hotel if he’s not here for the singles week.
Aiden: I own the hotel.
I laugh.
Me: Shut up! Then I get up out of the bath, set the phone down, and throw on my robe. This has been fun, but I’m looking for more than a role-playing scenario.
I go to my suitcase and slip on a strappy silk nightie and get on the bed. Still no response from Aiden but the dots jump just before a knock sounds at my door. I hesitantly approach and when I open the door, I’m taken aback. A woman holds a large vase with long-stemmed red roses. Once I get them into the room, I spot the card and open it: Do you believe me now?
Not only do my cheeks flame and a smile takes over my face, but a pulsing desire shoots through me. I jump to my bed and check my phone.
Aiden: I wouldn’t lie to you, Meg.
Though I don’t know his voice, a deep baritone rolls through me saying the words. Another text comes with a link, which I click on, and chortle. It’s a bio page with his image, looking sexy as hell, and confirming he is indeed the hotel owner. That explains a lot.
I apologize and after thanking him for the roses, I add a lame compliment about the hotel I regret sending. But he’s gracious, then turns the focus to me. We text for an hour, me sharing about my job, William, and my friendship with Kelsey, him sharing about a long-ago fiancée who died, the hotel, and how it’s doing so well he’s opening more locations, one in the near future. At one point, Aiden says we should stop texting and meet downstairs. I don’t hesitate with my reply.
Me: Why don’t you come to my room…
6
I wait nervously for Aiden to arrive. The knock at the door sends butterflies to my stomach. As soon as I open it, his lips are on mine, and he’s backing me up to the wall, his hard body pressing into mine. My heart beats so wildly I almost pass out, and I break away toward the bathroom.
Following me to the sink, he comes flush against my back. He brushes my hair to the side and kisses my neck as I breathe deeply, bracing myself on the counter. My breath catches when he reaches to one of the straps on my nightie and pulls it down to kiss my shoulder, exposing my bare breast to him in the mirror. This frantic sexual need is new to me, a thrill like nothing I’ve ever felt.
He palms my breasts from behind while he sucks lightly at my neck. Our eyes connect in the mirror, his dark and heady, before he drops one hand to reach under the flowy satin, running it up my inner thigh. I arch my back against him, getting more aroused by the second. I’m so ready for him but I also want this feeling to last forever.
Aiden flips me around and slides my nightie all the way down over my hips and to the floor. I stand there in only a black lace thong as he looks me up and down, his chest heavy, his mouth parted.
I make my way over to the bed and crawl on as he watches. At that moment I realize we still haven’t said a word to each other. This is insane.
“Aiden,” I say just so I can hear it. So I can make it—him—real.
His eyes sparkle and he comes over, pulling his shirt off on the way. Then he removes his shoes, pants, and boxer briefs. He stands, beautifully taut, staring down on me as I lie on my back on the bed. When his eyes wander the length of me, a pulsing heat begins between my thighs.
“Show me again where you want my mouth,” he says.
Holy hell, his voice is everything I expected and more.
I run my hands over my breasts slowly as he watches and then down…
He sits on the edge of the bed, leans over me, and follows the path of my hands with his mouth, burning a hot trail as he goes.
As his lips paint my skin, I run my hand over the rippled muscles of his back, then feather my fingers through his hair. He makes his way back up and just before he covers my mouth with his he whispers, “You’re perfect, Meg” and every inch of me melts.
His lips nip at mine, teasing, then he consumes my mouth, and the kiss is everything. Hot. Hungry and sweet, exciting yet familiar, like I’ve known him my whole life. Feel safe in his arms. Cherished and wanted.
Every move he makes, every touch is blissful as if he’s reading my mind or like we are both following a choreographed dance. We continue to explore each other’s bodies until an urgent need ignites in us, and I wrap my legs around his torso, urging him to take me, to finally fuse our bodies as one.
I moan his name and he locks eyes with me.
“I got you,” he whispers and then he becomes a man on a mission, shooting us both to nirvana.
7
Aiden strokes my hair, staring at me in the dim light when I realize I dozed off at some point. “What time is it?” I ask.
