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As suspected, the master bedroom and bathroom are upstairs. The furniture is all dark wood offset with pastel-green sheets and curtains. My glance lands on the bed… the large king-size bed with a high mattress. It’s perfect to be bent over and…
Stop it there, Ella. You’re not helping yourself.
All the pent-up desire from earlier roars back to life and I hastily retreat into the next open door I see. It’s his walk-in wardrobe, but only half of it is occupied. Is he living frugally or is he waiting for his other half to fill the rest?
Why doesn’t he have a girlfriend? He’s hot as hell, nice as fuck, and so far, I haven’t discovered a flaw in him yet. I know he’s got to have some, but if he has, I haven’t noticed them yet, which means they won’t be that important to me.
Is it that he prefers one-night stands? He doesn’t strike me as a player. Perhaps I’ll find out over dinner. My curiosity is raised now, and I know it won’t let me rest until I know it all… Rhia, the queen of inquisition, must have rubbed off on me over the years.
There’s one more room on this level which currently is used as his office. “One day this will be the nursery,” Aiden tells me.
Good lord, my ovaries just exploded. Of course, the man wants children. Can you imagine a bare-chested Aiden cradling an infant? Scoop me up from my puddle.
I’m still in my fantasy world when we head back downstairs and out onto the deck. There’s a fireplace that looks so inviting to lounge in front of, with neatly stacked wood on either side. The deck surrounds the whole house, and as we round the corner, I spot a spa at the end of the terrace with an expansive view of the scenery.
“This is heaven. Can I please move in?” I joke, or am I?“You seriously have the best house. All of this is amazing.”
Aiden smiles at me warmly. “It really is. I love it here.”
Checking the time, he looks a little worried.“We'd better get going or we’ll be late. I’m happy to show you the grounds a little later. I’ve created some wonderful little nooks to just sit and read, or meditate, or just enjoy the view.”
Oh, that sounds great. “I can’t wait to see them,” I tell him excitedly.
It turns out Aiden doesn’t charge for the self-defense class. It’s by donation to make it affordable for people of all walks of life. Though, the donation tin was overflowing. It was probably the many women trying to impress him. Apparently, all donations go to charities that help trauma survivors.
Not surprising in the least, the majority of his class was made up of women, at least half of them ogling him. Was I jealous? Not really. I know he’s not interested in any of them.
The remaining students were high school kids and two gentlemen in their forties who were all eager to learn.
Today’s topic was how to escape from a bear-hug attack and, of course, he demonstrated on me. Just that I didn’t want to escape the bear hug. I wanted to grind my ass against him until he was rock hard, but I behaved. Then we all teamed up and practiced, rotating to new partners regularly.
Under Aiden’s watchful eyes, we soon mastered the movements, with him always there to help. His hands never lingered or touched anywhere inappropriate, much to the dismay of some of the girls.
Aiden and I then got changed in the bathroom of the community hall for our dinner date and drove the short distance to the steak house. It’s quite rustic, but there’s an undeniable charm about it. It’s family friendly, and laughter and happy chatter rings through the place.
Aiden and I are tucked away in at a semi-private corner table, grinning goofily at each other as the waitress puts down our drinks. We order our dinner, and once the waitress leaves, Aiden’s attention is back to me.
He sits back in his chair, and I try hard not to notice the way his shirt stretches around his muscular shoulders, but it’s a losing battle. Treacherous heat blooms in my cheeks. God, I hate blushing. Why can’t I hide my feelings better?
He’s staring at me, and I can’t look away from those magnetic eyes. The sexual tension is growing between us again and I don’t know how to stop it. Do I even still want to?
It’s like some invisible string is binding us together, weaving some sort of protective cocoon around us. I’m hyperaware of every little thing he does; every movement of his hands, every breath as it expands and contracts his chest, the blink of an eyelid.
“Now tell me,” I begin, needing to ease the tension. “Why haven’t you got a girlfriend when everybody keeps telling me what a good guy you are?”
“Do they?” He gives me a panty-melting smile, and it has exactly that effect on me…damn. I should have packed my vibrator to find some relief later tonight, given there won’t be any hanky-panky. Ah well, I guess my fingers will have to do.
“Do they ever?! Everyone is singing your praises. And then I learn today that you’re a caring big brother too, looking after your sisters’ kids so they can have time with their husbands.
“But wait, there’s more,” I say in my best infomercial voice. “Then you offer self-defense classes practically for free, donating the proceeds to charity. Let me guess, you probably salary sacrifice ten percent of your income to charity too?” I look at him pointedly and he actually blushes.
Oh my god, he so does. And may I just say, a blushing Aiden is almost too much to take.
“You might as well go for sainthood,” I tease. “You’re a regular Mother Teresa, Angel.”
He takes sip of his drink, smirking at me. Leaning forward, he says, “Trust me, lucida… there is one area in my life that would ruin my chances for sainthood…” He lets that statement hang in the air. Rubbing his chin, he then corrects himself, “Having said that, if you judge my chances by how much pleasure I can give you… maybe that sainthood is still on the table.”
I choke on the sip of water I just took. Coughing, I mutter, “Good thing you’re not full of yourself.”
