“Well, fuck, you’re moody,” Cole grumbles, sending the paperwork Christos’s way.
Christos scans the documents while the team begins explaining to the rest of us.
Aaric watches the presentation—silent.
Something about the fact that he’s so quiet seems sexy to me. He’s clearly the more powerful man in the room, but his attitude is calm, in control, subdued, even though his energy is a pulsing, magnetizing, electric thing.
I exhale and try to take notes. The information we have gathered will be incorporated into the software this week. I’m trying to focus on business—exclusively, because whenever I start thinking of Aaric and the possibility of being with him, I get distracted and my childhood fears arise.
Mom once told me if you want to earn yourself half a man, be half of a woman. If you want a full man, you need to be the full version of yourself. Never expect anyone to complete you. Don’t be two halves to make a whole, be two wholes and make something more.
I’m trying to be that.
But the truth is, I’m running on adrenaline here. Fantasizing about this man touching me—taking me—is thrilling, and now that I see him every day, the sexual tension between us is thick enough it’s a miracle other people can fit inside this room with us.
I’m silent as they keep hashing things out, and once the group departs, Aaric gives me a look that makes me linger behind as they shut the door.
“So if the warehouse across the street is available and yours, I’d like that. It’ll be the perfect place. When do you think it can be ready?”
“With money, anything can be ready fast.”
“I’m so glad I partnered with you.” I smile.
He reclines in his chair with a cocky smirk, his eyes gleaming ruthlessly. “Am I good enough for you now?”
“Fuck you, I don’t care about your money.” I shoot him a scowl.
“You care so much you’ve been begging me for it.”
“I’m not interested in you in that way because of your money.”
“Then I see no problem why you can’t go out on a date with me.”
“You had a fiancé only weeks ago. While you have no issues, I mind it.”
“And yet you’ve never been interested in me like this before. Could the competition be whetting your appetite, sweetheart?”
“It’s not whetting my anything.”
“Is it wetting your thighs, love?”
“I resent you calling me endearments in that tone.”
“I can’t help it if they sound irreverent—you beg for it.” He stands to approach.
“You know what? You really are a moody son of a bitch!” I cry, standing to leave.
He reaches out to grab my wrist, and he yanks me to his chest, and the mouth that had just been cursing me is suddenly claiming mine.
I’m shocked enough that I freeze. But he is kissing me.
Kissing me stupid.
Fucking kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before.
And unlike the time we were kids, he doesn’t relent.
His hand slides up to grip a wad of my hair in his fist, and Aaric slants his head, exerting pressure with his mouth, forcing me to open my mouth for him. “Open, little bit,” he rasps commandingly.
I do—because…I don’t know.
Oh God, his tongue should be illegal! All of him should be illegal. He thrusts it into my mouth, kissing me—passion, sexual frustration, more.
And what started out as an angry, punishing kiss soon starts becoming softer, his hands begin to explore me, he begins to really savor me, to caress the back of my head with his fingers.
He lowers his head and grazes his teeth over my nipple, his hands kneading. I’m grabbing at him too, sort of out of control. I can’t think of anything except how much I want this—him—how much I ache all over. How good he smells, how the calluses in his hands feel against my skin, and how his thick lips feel as he moves his mouth over my nipple.
He’s panting, his breath hitting my skin as we stare at each other.
I take inventory of the situation and realize he weighs a ton, and that he’s hard against my tummy.
His lips hover over mine, his forehead, his eyes, his entire face hovering over me before he leans down and takes my mouth. Softly at first, brushing his fingertips over my forehead as if I’ve got something he needs to brush back. But I don’t. I don’t think I do. Hell, I don’t care if I do. I grab his shoulders and massage a little.
“Aaric,” I beg, lifting my mini dress so he can touch me.
“You fucking tease,” he rasps, leaning to lick his tongue into my ear. I close my eyes as he dips it into my ear and I feel a warm shiver shoot down my spine.
“You fucking tease,” he says, starting to undo my buttons, and I just don’t even know what to say but please undo my buttons, please make it stop, please give me take me do whatever you want but don’t stop touching me.
“Do you like teasing me?” he says, opening my top, and when I nod and bite my lip nervously, he’s lowering his face, sucking my nipple as if in punishment.
I groan and turn my head aside as he sucks me again, slipping his hand into my waistband and panties. “Do you like getting me hard?”
I groan, feeling him rub my clit at the same time he grinds his erection against me.
“You’re so much more trouble than you look.”
I feel his hard bulge bite into my pelvis as he shifts, raising my legs to his sides. I raise my arms and curl them around his neck as he settles himself between my thighs, and before I know it he’s free of his slacks, pushing them down to his ankles, and he’s sheathed and he’s entering me, so huge I almost scream from the sensation of fullness, and then I just want more, more, more, and he’s giving me so much we’re both just bodies moving and straining to get closer.
We’re groaning, kissing and groping, my back nearly breaking against the desk and my nails nearly drawing his blood on his back, and his hips relentlessly pummeling against mine as we kiss like our lives depend on it and like we have no control, like we’re animals and don’t care of the consequences, only want to fuck and taste, fuck and groan, fuck and bite down on each other’s tongue and then suck it and kiss while our breaths explode against one another’s face and our bodies strain to get closer and our hips madly hump and we’re humping like crazy and I’m crying out and he’s coming and we’re both coming and it’s coming over us like crazy and it’s here between us and even then we keep fucking as we come…even keep fucking a little slower as it starts easing—
--what’s my name?
--fuck, he weighs a ton
--shit, but I’m not saying a peep about that because I still want his dick inside me for a little longer
--God. BEST SEX EVER!
--shit. What did I do?
--um, this is going to be awkward.
It’s actually not awkward yet because he pulls out, and he’s still hard, and he rolls me around, makes me wet again, and gives it to me again.
There, folded over.
We don’t talk, it would ruin it, but our bodies do the talking for us, his hands, his sucking mouth, his groans and my moans, the way we move, sort of like our bodies don’t agree with the words we sometimes tell each other, like being close is what we were born to do—how we instinctively crave to be.
When he asks me to come, come harder for him, I come a second time, and it feels like I do come harder. Harder because he wanted me to.
He’s breathing harshly in my ear moments later, and I’m fighting to breathe at all.
I really think we needed that. It was a good way to work each other out of our systems. He stands and helps me up, and then he helps me rearrange my clothes.
He looks at me and there’s intimacy there and heat. I look down.
“That was actually the best sex I’ve ever had,” I breathe as he steps aside and heads over to his window.
He drags a hand over his jaw, staring outside, his shoulders broad and square.
“God, you’re an asshole.”
I start to leave. He stops me, a hand on my elbow. “Come home with me tonight.”
“What for?”
“For more of that.”