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“You don't understand shit,” I pitch my voice low, my anger starting to redline.
Emily takes my hand and turns my face to hers. She gives me a gentle smile, a pleading look in her eyes. I look around the lounge and see that all eyes are fixed on us, everybody watching to see if I take a poke at the rent-a-cops too, like it's some fucking reality show.
“It's okay, Aaron,” she says. “Let's just go.”
I stand fast for a minute as Emily continues tugging on my hand, trying to lead me to the door. The two security guards look apprehensive, uncertain what I'm going to do. The man directly in front of me is doing his best to appear relaxed, but the second man has his hand very obviously on his stun gun, as if to show me what he's going to do if I make a move.
“Aaron, let's go,” Emily begs again. “Call the driver and let's get out of here.”
Slowly, I let myself relax and relent. I allow Emily to pull me out of the lounge and lead me through the hotel, out toward the front entrances. I quickly call my driver Luke and tell him to meet us out front.
“You okay?” I ask Emily.
She gives me a small grin. “You know I have to admit, seeing you go all caveman is kinda hot.”
I laugh despite the anger flowing through me – which is quickly evaporating because of her. I can't help but let things go when I'm with her. At least, I'm able to let it go somewhat faster than normal for me.
“Where are we headed?” I inquire.
“To get the good times flowing again,” she states. “We need to cut loose and have a good time.”
Truer words have never been spoken.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Emily
“You know what I like most about how I'm feeling right now?” I ask, doing my best to avoid slurring my words as I raise my glass.
“Tell me.”
Aaron's gaze is intense and sends waves of anticipation and excitement flowing through me. The effect he has on me is profound and completely undeniable. It's also something that's come completely out of the blue. I wasn't looking for it, nor did I want it, but Aaron and I seem to be bonded in some strange and powerful, but amazing way. The bond we feel is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. Even more than the first time we were together years ago. I've struggled to understand it but I’m starting to believe this is just one of those things you go with and don't question.
“I like that I'm not overthinking things,” I say. “I like that I can just enjoy myself. I feel loose and totally relaxed. I feel like I'm a completely different person – and I like it.”
“Alcohol does that for a person,” he tells me as he taps his bottle against my drink.
“It's not just the booze, silly. I mean, that's part of it, for sure,” I reply. “But just being with you helps me not be myself.”
“Don't knock yourself too hard. I happen to like that woman.”
Aaron gives me a knowing, understanding smile. Sometimes I feel like he's the only person who might actually understand me – because he's the same exact way. Aaron is an overthinker, and somebody who keeps such a tight grip that he stifles himself. Just like me. And as we sit there over more drinks than I can remember having, I can tell he's enjoying this temporary reprieve from reality.
“I can tell you're not overthinking things,” Aaron laughs and motions to the stage.
As the music blares, a woman wearing nothing, but a thong and heels grinds and sways onstage, wrapping herself sinuously around the pole. She's got an amazing body and drips sensuality. I've never been to a strip club before, and I don't have any tendencies that way, but I'm still finding the experience enjoyable.
“I have to say, I'm surprised you picked a strip club to come to,” Aaron tells me.
I shrug and look pointedly at his crotch. “Just wanted to make sure that asshole at the hotel didn't ruin my plans for later.”
He laughs and takes a long swallow from his beer. We're sitting in a booth near the rear of the club. It's loud, garish, and completely over the top, but I'm having fun. And as I let my hand drift up Aaron's leg and clutch the bulge in his pants, I can tell he is too.
He grins. “I think I like your plan. But to be honest, nothing could keep me from wanting you, Emily.”
Aaron smiles at me and I believe him – I truly believe what he said. The most interesting thing to me about this is that despite the abundance of drop-dead gorgeous women who are strutting around the club wearing next to nothing, he looks at them in a disinterested way. I can tell that he's not turned on by them – or if he is, he's doing an amazing job of hiding it. But when he looks at me, the light in his eye changes, as do his entire expression and demeanor.
When he looks at me, I see nothing but pure desire in his eyes. But it's more than that. I can't quite put my finger on what it is, but there's something else there. He admires me as he would an exquisite piece of art in a gallery. He looks at me like the only woman he wants or has ever desired. And when I see that look in his eye, it turns me into a puddle of goo, every damn time.
