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“Hmmm . . .
I thrum my finger on my bottom lip as I amble across the living room toward him. “I might consider letting you keep all your points for a small fee, of course.”
“And what’s the fee?” he asks, mildly amused.
I straddle his lap and announce my fee with my actions. He briefly tenses from the contact then relaxes when I tangle my fingers through his hair.
“There. Much better,” I whisper. “I don’t like you being so far away.”
He offers me a small smile. “I wanted to sit by you, but I worried your dad would maybe get mad or something.”
“That we were sitting on the couch together?”
“I don’t know . . . yeah. I mean, I worried maybe they’ll figure out we have something going on.”
“Have something going on?” I playfully tease. “I’m not sure what you mean. What’s going on?”
He stares at me, unimpressed. “I mean our relationship that they don’t know about yet.”
“Oh, right. I completely forgot about that.” I smile innocently at him, and he pinches my side, causing me to yelp. “No fair.” I pinch him back, right on his chest.
Tension ripples through his body as he stiffens from my unexpected touch.
“Sorry.” I quickly apologize. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I-it’s okay,” he stammers through a loud exhale. Then he takes my hand and lines my palm right over his thundering heart. “You just surprised me. That’s all . . . You can . . . I’m fine with you touching me on the outside of my shirt. You know that, right?” His off-pitch tone reveals exactly how difficult it is for him to say that.
Touching Ayden is a gift.
One I’m grateful he gives me.
I just wish I could have it all the time.
Every day and night.
On and on and on.
Forever.
I lean forward and place a kiss on his lips. His breathing accelerates as he grasps onto my hips, and I smile to myself, secretly loving that I can make him react like that.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this here,” he mutters as I kiss him again. “Your dad’s in the next room, and your mom could walk in at any moment.”
“Don’t worry about them.” I rock my hips against his, eliciting a groan from him. “Only stop if you want to stop.”
Please, please, don’t stop.
Ever, ever, ever.
His protests shift into throaty moans as he deepens the kiss, entangling our tongues, tasting me deeply while his hands travel up and down my sides. His fingers trace each bump of my ribs before drifting down to the hem of my black and purple dress. His fingers tremble as he fiddles with the bottom, something he usually does.
Having more than likely suffered from sexual abuse while being kidnapped, intimacy is complicated with Ayden. Touching me is less of a problem than getting touched himself, but he’s always a bit unsettled.
“Do we need to slow down?” I ask then steal another taste of his lips.
“I don’t know.” He puts a sliver of space between our mouths, breathing hotly against my lips. “It’s getting easier. Sort of. I mean, I don’t panic as much, and I feel like I want . . .” He trails off, his eyes glazed over and pupils dilated, as if he’s high from the kiss.
High on our kiss.
Dazed by our connection
And the overpowering heat
Of our bodies,
Our souls.
Intoxicated by love.
God, how I wish,
Wish that were the truth.
After searching my eyes, his lips return to mine, and his hand slides underneath my dress, silently answering my question. I fall into his touch, desperately tumbling into a place I once dreamed about but now know exists.
Love.
I’m pretty sure I’m in love with Ayden, but fear has stopped me from telling him, terrified that my declaration will freak him out.
He cups my ass, pushing me closer until our bodies conform. I slide my arms around him then trace my fingers up and down the nape of his neck, kissing him with everything I’m feeling, hoping it’ll be enough to get it out of my system.
When his mouth leaves mine, I make a raspy protest, but words get lost as he places tender kisses down my jawline to my neck. He sucks and nips on the flesh, causing my body to swelter with overbearing heat.
“Ah . . . This feels so good,” I moan with my head tipped back, clutching onto his shoulders and wishing the moment would never end.
But as soon as the wish surfaces, the front door opens, the alarm goes off, and the moment goes poof. We scramble apart, breathless, our clothes and hair in disarray. I stumble across the room back to the sofa, smoothing my dress back into place. Dropping down on the cushion, I quickly scoop up my sketchpad and pencil right as the alarm gets shut off.
My mother, Fiona, and Everson enter the living room from the foyer while my father comes hurrying in from the hallway.
“What’s going on?” he asks as he rushes in. “Why’s the alarm going . . . ?” He trails off when he sees my mom. “That was a quick trip.”
“Yeah, we just went through the drive-thru.” My mother gives a suspicious glance between Ayden and me. “What have you two been up to?”
Shrugging, I press the tip of my pencil against the drawing. “Nothing. Just chillin’.”
“Sure you were.” She exchanges a look with my father, and for a flash of an instant, I wonder if they know exactly what Ayden and I were up to. “Did you check on them at all while I was gone?”
My dad shrugs at her. “Not really, but the alarm was set so I’d know if they tried to leave.”
“I’m not worried about them leaving.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
Hello, Captain Oblivious. Even I get what she’s worried about.
She presses him with a look, but he still appears lost, either clueless about what my mom’s implying or unwilling to accept it.
“I have a few things I’ve got to take care of,” he says to her, backing out of the room. “Meet you upstairs in, like, twenty minutes?”
My mom heaves an exhausted sigh. “All right.”
He waggles his eyebrows at her, and then the two of them exchange a look meant only for them to see, even though there’s a room full of eyes.
“Wow, way to be obvious, you two,” I say to break the awkward silence in the room.
My mother shoots me a dirty look, and I flash her a smirk.
“She’s just like you,” she tells my dad. “You know that, right?”
“I do.” He grins, pleased. “And I’ll take that as the highest compliment.” He winks at me before turning and disappearing down the hallway.
My mom brushes her auburn hair off her shoulder then turns to me. “I’m going to go upstairs to take a shower. Try to behave. And have everyone in bed within the next hour.”
I give her a salute. “Yes, boss.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles before walking off toward the stairway. Moments later, I hear the alarm beep, meaning she set it.
Once all the parentals are out of the room, Fiona, the youngest of the Gregorys, plops down on the sofa beside Ayden. Kale hurries up to me, hands me a bowl of caramel swirled ice cream, then sits down on the armrest.
“I brought you ice cream.” She gives Ayden one of the cups. “I got cookie dough because I know it’s your favorite.”
Ayden stares at the bowl with his brows knit. “How’d you know it’s my favorite?”
Fiona rolls her eyes. “You think you’re so mysterious, Ayden, but let me tell you, you kind of aren’t.” She shovels a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth then flashes him a grin. “You said something about it being your favorite during your birthday.”
“Did I?” Ayden wonders, diving into his ice cream. “I don’t remember telling anyone that.”
“You told Lyric, just like you tell her every other secret of yours.” She kicks her feet up onto the coffee table with a sassy smirk on her face.
Ayden and I share an amused look because Fiona is a typical thirteen-year-old—full of rebellion, a sassy attitude, and keeps everyone on their toes.
