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Nine
Savannah
I should have argued.
I knew I should.
I should have said, ‘Hey, motherfucker, I’m a big girl. I managed to stop some assassin dude with a mop and a coffee table book. I can do it again.’
Not only did I not want to risk it, but I really didn’t want to.
Did you want to guess how many times I’d seen the bastard since the last meeting we’d had together?
Zero.
Zero times.
Nought.
0.
Nil.
ZERO.
That should have been impossible in New York when we ran in the same circles, when I’d seen his brothers and his family several times at boring galas and fundraisers…
Which told me he’d actively avoided me.
Which told me I got under his skin.
Not in the whole parasitic kind of way. In a ‘I have to avoid her because if I don’t, things will deteriorate fast.’
And when I said deteriorate, I totally meant ‘we’d end up fucking so hard that no mattress in the city would be safe.’
No mattresseswouldbe safe. Not in a ten-mile vicinity, that was for damn sure.
Have you ever just looked at someone and thought about their dick sliding inside you?
That was what Aidan did to me.
To this day, when I jilled off, I used him as inspiration.
I used his face to get me off because that and his hands were the only things I’d ever really seen.
Until today.
I’d seen one knee and a calf; the other was covered in a brace. I also got to see some yummy forearms, with lovely veins wrapped around them. Just like veins would wrap around his dick—
Goddammit. This was what he did to me. Took innocent musings and made them all dirty!
It was totally his fault.
I had nothing to do with it.Whatsoever.
It was all on him for being so fucking delicious. That tic in his jaw made my clit pulse at the same beat, and the way he smelled? A little salty and sweaty from the gym, well, wouldn’t you know it, it just made me want to lick him. Even if he was skinnier than before, he was still muscled and through his gym shirt, I saw how his pecs pushed against the fabric.
I wanted to bite him.
