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AIDEN
The dinner ended up being more emotional than romantic, I thought now as I drove Kayla back home. I had still enjoyed the night with her, though. She'd changed into one of the gowns I had chosen, and I'd driven us to a nice restaurant that I frequented in the city's historic district.
I hadn't been able to take my eyes off her as we walked from the car to the restaurant. I knew the dress I picked for her would fit her, but I hadn't anticipated this level of elegance. It looked like she was made for the gown. I couldn't help admiring her beckoning curves that were more pronounced in this beautiful getup.
Our conversation flowed nicely. Surprisingly, she took on a more active role in asking, and I was content to answer her questions. Her brows drew together when I told her my last name. I could almost see her mind making the connections.
“Is that the same Walters as in the Walters Group?” she asked.
I chuckled because I wasn't surprised that she was familiar with the name. Dad had spent his youth taking the real estate business that his father had handed down to him to another level and diversifying into other industries until he attained the kind of wealth and fame that few people in this city could boast of.
“Yeah,” I replied.
She looked at me again as if wondering if she was really sitting this close to Aiden Walters, first son of business mogul Richard Walters. She didn't remain too star-struck for long, and our conversation continued normally after that.
It was my turn to be impressed when she told me that she came from a wealthy family who lived in Philly, but she had to run off and do something with her life because they wanted her to kowtow to their wishes. She wasn't allowed to want anything of her own.
“I felt like I was just an extension of my parents. I wasn't supposed to have a mind of my own. They were going to choose a college for me, choose a career for me, and who knows, maybe even choose a husband for me. It felt like I was not living for myself.”
She had run away to attend a university of her choice, studying art instead of law—which her father was interested in and insisted she pursue.
“Are you happy with your choices?” I asked her.
“Yes, I am,” she replied without hesitation. “I feel great, even though this job pays low, and I don’t live in a great place, but I can fend for myself. I pay for my art courses, and more importantly, I get to choose what I do like a proper adult.”
I was impressed with that. Many people longed to be born with that silver spoon and leverage it to build something for themselves like I was doing. Still, she was ready to do things by herself, on her own terms. I fully respected that. And my admiration for this pretty young woman just went up a notch.
“We're here,” she announced suddenly, causing me to jolt out of my train of thoughts.
I quickly hit the brakes and parked the car outside her tiny cottage. Learning a bit of Kayla's story made me look at the neighborhood with keener eyes. At first, the neighborhood looked clean and safe, but upon closer inspection, I noted that a few of the streetlamps were flickering or completely out. A neighbor's lawn hadn't seen a mower in a while, with several houses looking a little rundown, with peeling paint and drooping porches. “Are you okay living here?”
“For now,” she shrugged.
“Yeah, definitely just for now,” I said.
“Oh, I forgot to ask earlier,” Kayla said. “Did your niece like the book?”
“Yeah, she won't let go of it,” I said, smiling as I thought of Chelsea holding the book tight against her chest when I gave it to her.
"That's great to hear." Kayla looked at me before glancing out the side window, some hesitancy in her movements. I smirked and got out of the car, walking around to the passenger door and opening it for her. She grasped my hand as I helped her out, and we walked to her door.
Kayla moved close and gave me a hug. I held her tight, faintly feeling her breasts pressing against my chest. I would have liked to hold her closer, to feel her against me without clothes.
“Thanks for tonight. I enjoyed every bit of it,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome, Kayla,” I said, throwing her a wink as she opened her door. I could have told her I wanted to come in, but I knew better than to rush things. Women were unpredictable, even for someone like me with years of experience. She could get scared if I came off as too desperate to jump into bed with her. The right approach was to remain patient. Yes, I wanted more than anything to have Kayla in bed with me, but I might just spook her if I pushed too hard at once.
She waved to me one last time, and I made my way back to the car. I shook my head as I turned on the engine. I wasn't sure if what I wanted from Kayla was only physical or something more profound that would last longer. But I had a feeling that it was the latter. Maybe a night with Brian and Ronald, my two close friends, would help me take my mind off this girl and sort out my feelings.
CHAPTER FOUR
Iwas still dazzled by the sea of white that was surrounded me. It felt like I was in a dream, one that was impossible to wake from. Aiden had just booked us into a suite at a luxury resort and spa in a nearby town as a way for us to find some serious alone time. Unfortunately, his work and my job seemed to have limited the time we could spend together.
We had been seeing each other on and off for a few weeks, and we had grown really close. I knew him now and understood him as a person. I no longer saw him as a rich, arrogant man who thought he could make everyone do his bidding because he had the money and the good looks to do so.
One of the things that came with becoming closer to Aiden was the increased desire to kiss him, to touch him. He acted like a pure gentleman around me—no excessive touching or dirty innuendos. Still, I was dying from sexual tension, and I could see that he wanted me too. I had caught him staring at my backside on more than one occasion. He must have known that I was more than ready to sleep with him as well if he was as good with women as he claimed to be, but for weeks he didn't make a move. And it drove me to the edge of sexual frustration.
