Page 13 of His Perfect Gift


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I tossed and turned for another hour before throwing the covers aside and climbing out of bed. I was aware enough to walk steadily, but my brain was still in a fog. However, there was no rhyme or reason for opening the door, walking down the long hallway, and stopping in front of the closed door to his master bedroom. I’d been to his house when I was younger and our families had dinner together, so I vaguely remembered the layout.

Turning the handle, I opened the door as quietly as possible. Self-doubt filled my head, and my heart raced. I didn’t know what I was doing.

I forced my feet to move forward before I chickened out. When I reached the edge of his massive king-sized bed, I stared down at his large figure, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. He was reclined on his back with the blankets wound around his waist, exposing his bare chest.

I ran a hand down my thigh, fixated on the muscles of his chest and the ladder of abs that flexed slightly with each breath. Or maybe it was my breath I heard mixing with the pounding of my heart.

He was so hot.

I reached down as if in a trance, wanting to touch him. My finger landed on his pec, tracing the smooth skin over the hardened muscle. I followed the lines of the tattoo of a serpent that trailed down his side. I’d never seen this tattoo before. I’d never seen him with his shirt off. I felt like I was doing something forbidden. Invading his privacy.

Suddenly, a hand clasped my wrist, and I ended up flipped on my back underneath a hard body. His fist was drawn, ready to strike.

I cried out.

He paused in shock, dropping his hand. “Amber?” His voice was gruff with sleep.

“Mm-hmm,” I squeaked out.

He exhaled slowly and relaxed. He was sitting on top of me with his thighs snug around my hips. “What the hell are you doing here? Do you have any idea what I could’ve done?”

“I’m sorry.”

He scanned my face. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“N-no.”

“Then what are you doing here? In my room?”

I glanced down at my shirt, which was now bunched at my waist, while Aaron remained on top of me… in only black boxer briefs. “I-I-,” I stammered, trying to think of an excuse. “I woke up and didn’t know where I was.”

He could’ve called me out for being a liar, but instead he asked, “Do you want me to take you home?”

He started to move away, and I held out my hand to stop him. “No.”

“No?” His eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here? In my bed?”

I searched his eyes, which were as dark as night. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He rolled his lips and averted his gaze as if in disgust. “You need to go back to the guest room.”

I stiffened, embarrassed, but I held my chin firm. “I’ll leave.” I tried to move, but he didn’t budge. I made another attempt, but he held me under him.

He was still scowling. “I can’t believe you came in here.”

“It was a mistake.” I pushed against his chest, trying to get up, ashamed that he’d basically refused me. “Let me go.”

“Dammit,” he growled. “What are you trying to do, Princess? Drive me to the brink?”

“You told me to leave.”

“You can’t do this…” His words fell off, and he cursed under his breath. Before I knew it, his mouth was on mine. Kissing me.He was kissing me. My eyes widened in surprise before I succumbed and wrapped my hands around his neck, allowing myself to drown in his kiss.

But as soon as I began to sink under his spell, it was over.

“Shit,” he growled, throwing himself off me. “Shit. Shit.” He was breathing hard and dipped his head in shame, shoving a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”

Dazed, I sat up and laid my hand on his bicep, which tensed under my touch. I could still taste him on my lips, and I wanted more. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

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