Late Call (Volume 1) (24 page)

“Tell me what you want,” he whispers, his voice husky.

“You. Just you.”

“No.” He brings his body flush against mine. “More. Tell me what you want me to do you.” His fingers slide around my body to cup my butt, creeping beneath my dress. He brings it around slowly, drawing a path with his thumb from hip to hip, skimming the top of my underwear. “Do you want me to touch you here?”

I part my lips at the touch of his fingertips sliding beneath the material and curl my fingers into his shirt. “Yes.”

“How? Like this?” He rubs his thumb across my clit, drawing a sharp breath from me. “Or like this?” Two fingers slip inside me effortlessly, stretching me. He curls them at the tips, hitting my sweet spot, and drags them across it like he knows.

“Oh. That.” I release his shirt and sink my fingers into his hair. I’m gripping it so tightly I know I’m pulling it, but he gives me no indication of it. And all I can truly feel are his fingers inside me.

“You sure?” He slides his other hand down my back, undoing my zipper.

I’m left feeling empty when he pulls his fingers from me to slide my dress down my body. The emptiness leaves as his eyes trace me from head to toe, only to be replaced with an all-consuming need that roars through me.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs at my neck, dropping kisses across my collarbone.

I drop my head as he travels downward, tracing along the curve of my breast and down my stomach. His hot breath covers my aching pussy, and I know where he’s going even before he hooks his fingers in the waistband of my panties and slides them down my legs.

I tremble beneath his touch with nothing to hold on to in order to steady myself, and my knees buckle as he kisses up my thigh.

“Or is this what you want?” He kisses just above my clit. “My mouth… My tongue… Here. Licking your pussy and teasing your clit until you come so hard you see black? Is this what you want?”

His hand cups me, his finger rubbing over me. I groan and reach down to his head.

“Tell me what you want, Dayton.”

“Get up,” I demand, tugging at his hair. “Up.”

He stands slowly, dragging his mouth up my body as he does. His breathing picks up speed as I deftly undo each button on his shirt and ease it over his shoulders. It silently falls to the floor behind him, and I press my mouth to his chest. Over his heart. It pounds beneath my touch, and I settle my hands at his waist as I let my tongue travel across his body.

It’s a full adventure from his pecs to his waistband, and I take advantage of every dip and rise of his muscles as my tongue explores him. I unbuckle his belt and undo his pants without taking my lips from his body. He tenses beneath my touch as I pull them down, his boxers included, and free his raging erection.

“Fuck,” Aaron mutters at the first touch of my lips at the base of his cock. I wrap my fingers around him and take him into my mouth, my tongue flicking against him.

I work him, my only objective his pleasure, needing to feel his release inside me. My pussy or my mouth. I don’t care. I run my tongue along the side of his shaft, reveling in the way he works his fingers into my hair and groans my name, and lick the drop of pre-cum from the end of his cock.

“Dayton,” he rasps again when I brush my fingers across his sac. His balls tighten in my grip as I squeeze lightly, and he groans deep in his throat, pulling his hips back and lifting me.

“Kiss me.”

His tongue plunges into my mouth and he kisses me feverishly. His hands run across my body desperately, and when they stop at the top of my thighs, I feel his fight not to touch me. Not to take control of this.

I pull away and walk backward. He follows me to the bedroom and drops his eyes when I unclip my bra. I slide it down my arms, freeing my breasts, and my nipples pucker beneath his gaze.

The bed is soft as I lie back on it, and Aaron stands at the end of the bed, just watching me. Waiting. His chest heaving with the force of being controlled.

The familiar feeling rushes through my veins, mixed with desire and heat.

I want to push him.

I want to see how far he’ll go until he breaks and takes back control of my body.

With my eyes on his, I trail a finger down my breastbone. His chest heaves and he swallows as I run it beneath the curve of my breasts, teasing but not really touching. His gaze follows my finger as I trace small, lazy circles across my stomach.

Slowly, I take it lower.

His breathing gets even heavier and his cock twitches. He wraps his hand around it and my body reacts immediately. I feel the wetness pooling between my legs, and my lungs constrict at the sight of him standing before me. Powerful. Sexual. Almost primal.

I stop my finger just above the mound that dips to my pussy and wait for him to say something. He tightens his grip on himself, and eyes so dark they’re almost black take mine captive.

“Do it,” he growls. “But when you come, your hand will be replaced by my mouth.”

I don’t dispute it or argue as my hand dips lower. My lips part as my finger finds my swollen clit, and it almost feels alien to touch it myself. It’s been so long since I had to do this that I almost want to pull away and demand that he skip the waiting and just get his mouth down there right the fuck now.

The tension keeps me going. Aaron strokes himself slowly as I rub circles around my clit, sliding my fingers down and dipping them inside myself.

“Fuck, Dayton. If you had any idea how you look right now…”

The rawness of his voice makes my eyelids flutter shut. “Tell me. Tell me what you see right now, standing in front of me while I touch myself for you.”

“You look like perfection. You’re sexy in the rawest way, and it drives me fucking crazy. I can see how wet you are, can see it on your fingers each time you slide them back out of your gorgeous cunt. And knowing I did that makes me the smuggest son of a bitch in this city.”

I fight the buck of my hips and the pressure from the quickly building orgasm. “And you?” I ask hoarsely.

“Hard, baby. I’m rock solid and it’s all because of you. All for you.” The bed creaks and dips as he moves forward. His breath crawls over my leg, igniting a new flare inside me, and I cry out softly when he grabs my free hand. He wraps my fingers around his cock. “Feel that?” he questions, rocking his hips and pushing himself through my grip. “That’s you. No one else gets me this crazy.”

I squeeze him lightly as the first wave of orgasm thrashes through my body, and as quickly as he filled my hand, he leaves it empty. He pulls my hand away and covers me with his mouth, his tongue stretching inside me as I come into his mouth.

It’s intense and unrelenting, wave after wave assaulting me.

I need him. I need him to fill me the way he always does.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he says, wrapping his lips around my nipple. “The way
I
want. As hard as
I
want and for as long as
I
want. And it’s going to be hard and it’s going to be fucking fast.”

He gets off me and I open my eyes.

“On your front,” he whispers. “Hands and knees.”

My lips part as I do it. He moves behind me and slaps my ass lightly.

“Now crawl up the bed.”

I crawl.

“Wrap those hands around the top of the headboard.”

I wrap my hands around the headboard.

His hand connects with my ass again, sharper this time, and I flinch away from the sting. Never mind that I feel it all the way through my pussy.

He raises himself until the head of his cock is just inside me. I flex my hips to take him deeper, and he leans over me, pulling back.

“I’m trying to control myself, Dayton, but I meant it when I said it would be hard and fast. I won’t be nice, not after watching you give yourself an orgasm that should have come from me.”

“You told me to”—all the breath leaves my body at his hard entry—“do it.”

“I was making a point.” He holds himself inside me and turns my face to the side. He takes my mouth harshly, his teeth tugging on my lower lip. “I let you touch yourself simply so I could remind you there’s nothing you can do to yourself that I can’t do ten times better. I can make you come harder and more intensely than you could ever make yourself.” To prove his point, he pulls out and rams back into me. I cry out. “Think about that next time you decide to tease me and take away something that is my right.”

“Making me come is your right?”

“You belong to me, Dayton. It’s my right to do whatever I wish with you. That includes being the only person who will ever make you come. Starting now.”

He picks up a speedy pace, pounding into me harshly and relentlessly from behind. Every thrust inside pushes the breath from my body. I drop my head forward, pushing back against him, taking him deeper until he hits the end of me. He grabs my hips, controlling my movements. Slamming me onto him with each thrust forward.

It’s sudden and it’s explosive and it’s mind-numblingly intense. I shatter. I surrender to the intense rush of blood and adrenaline and spiking pleasure. It consumes me. Owns me. Possesses me to my very core. I tremble. I shake. I fall and spiral into the consuming flood.

This is rough and real. As a second hits before I can center myself again, I know this is what needed to happen. This is the past and the present and the future all colliding in a crazy, fucked-up moment of ownership and pleasure.

I break.

I release my hold on the headboard and drop forward as Aaron shouts his own release in a magical cry of my name. He collapses onto me, our skin slick together, and wraps his arms around my body. His chest is heaving as hard as mine. I can feel his heartbeat pounding through his ribs to my back, and it’s perfectly in sync with my own.

My heart is beating so hard it could break through the bones keeping it safe. It’s so full of everything—of desire, of passion, of love. All for the man holding on to me like I might run if he doesn’t.

And when he eases out of me, kisses me softly, and drags me to the shower, the questions spin in my mind.

How do I walk away?

How do I
stay
?

“I hated them then, and chances are, I hate them now.”

“You barely even tried them. You licked one then screwed your face up all adorable.”

“There is nothing adorable about me. And there is nothing tasty about snails.”

“Really? Would it kill you to try one after seven years?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not willing to take the risk.” I fold my arms across my chest. “I’ll sit here with my salad while you suck on your snails, thank you.”

Aaron smirks. “You do that.”

I cringe as he eats one. Complete with a shiver. I wipe snail trails from the mat outside my back door, for the love of God. I’m not about to eat the little bastards. The slime and…ugh. No thanks.

“They’re good.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I’m sure they’re the most delicious thing on Earth.”

“No. That’s you.”

My fork freezes mid salad-stab. “I can’t believe you just said that out loud.”

Indeed, the couple at the table next to us are listening.

“I’m merely correcting you,” Aaron replies, unfazed by the attention on us from whomever they are.

“Could you save your corrections for private?” I shoot an angry glare to my right, and the couple looks away.

“Absolutely not.” He leans forward, his eyes sparkling, and lowers his voice. “Do you think I’m ashamed of the fact I would substitute every meal for your coming in my mouth?”

I run my tongue along my bottom lip. “No.”

“Then be quiet and finish your lunch.”

I stab a piece of lettuce with a force it doesn’t deserve. “
Merde
,” I mutter.

Aaron smirks. “Most know
bonjour
as their primarily used French word. Of course my woman knows
merde
.”

“You taught me it.” I chew slowly. “It’s an easy word to remember.”

I set my fork down beside my plate and ignore his lowered chuckle. My eyes scour the view outside our window until they fall on the familiar shape of the
Louvre
. My heart skips a beat. My favorite place in the world.

“I know what you’re looking at.”

“Please,” I ask without taking my eyes from it. “I promise it’ll be the only time I’ll make you come with me.”

He grins and waves at a waiter for the bill. “I was waiting for you to ask.”

Excitement builds, and I smile at him as he pays. Outside the restaurant, I skip along the cobbled street—in my flats—toward the museum.

“You look like the girl I fell in love with all those years ago.”

I turn to face him. “Being back here with you, I feel it.”

He catches up with me and takes my hand in his. His lips brush across my knuckles, and he pulls me closer to the Louvre. “I’m going to hate every second of this, aren’t I?”

“It’s likely.” I lean into him slightly. He loops our arms over my head so they circle my body, pulling me closer to his side. I fit perfectly against him, and I smile as I remember the endless hours we spent exploring the city exactly this way.

If I close my eyes and believe hard enough, it almost feels like no time has passed. Like we could be here for the very first time, just getting to know each other and falling for the first time. I can kid myself that I’m only just finding out how his touch silences the rest of the world and his kiss sends me into a heady spiral of bliss.

I can pretend that I’m only just finding out that looking in his eyes is the best and worst thing a girl can do.

Nothing has changed. Irrespective of my job or the time passed,
nothing
has changed. It feels the same as it always has when we’re together.

Being with Aaron is effortless. Just like loving him, waking up to his electric eyes and smirking lips each morning feels so natural that I can’t remember it not being so. The time without him far outweighs the time together, but that doesn’t make the slightest difference.

And the idea of being without him again makes my stomach clench painfully.

The thought of not waking up to a ready-made pot of coffee, to rumpled sheets on the other side of the bed, to his lips brushing across a part of my body, sinks in deep and claws at every part of me.

I squeeze my eyes shut. No matter how it hurts, how hard it will be to say goodbye, how hard it will be to leave such a pivotal part of my life behind, it has to be done.

Nothing can last forever.

I open my mouth but Aaron speaks before I can. “Wait here.”

He releases me and strolls down a tiny street, disappearing into a small building. I stare after him in shock. What the hell?

I wrap my arms around my waist, suddenly feeling a chill from the gentle spring breeze without his arms around me. My foot taps as I wait. What the hell is he doing?

He reemerges a few moments later, a small bag in his hand. I frown. His face is stretched into a grin, his eyes sparkling with the boyish charm that endeared me to him originally, and he stops in front of me.

“Here.”

“A brown paper bag?”

“Just open it.”

I unfold the top, the paper rustling as I do, and reach inside. My fingers wrap around a ball chain, and there’s a small clink as I pull it out.

“Oh my god.”

The Eiffel Tower charm at the end is sandwiched by a star charm and a red glass heart. The bag crumples in my fist as the necklace flattens in my in palm, my jaw slack.

Aaron grins and takes it from me. “I can’t believe the store is still here.”

“Me either.”

He steps behind me and unclasps the necklace. He settles it around my neck and pauses. “Do you remember?”

Do I remember? How could I forget? We were standing in the same place seven years ago when he first gave me a necklace identical to this. It was a crazy, impulsive buy, and he said that he’d bought it firstly because of the Tower.

“The Tower for your love of it and the place we first met,” he murmurs, redoing the clasp. His finger trails over my shoulder alongside the chain as he turns me to face him. “The star for what I see whenever I look in your eyes…”

“And the heart so I’ll never forget I have yours,” I finish for him in a whisper. I reach my hand up and my fingers curl around the charms. “Like I could.”

“Just in case.” He kisses me sweetly.

I reach into my purse and unzip the back pocket. I grab a chain exactly like the one hanging around my neck and tug.

“You still have it.” Aaron takes it from me in awe. “I don’t believe it.”

I tear my eyes, which are filling with tears, from the necklace and find his. “I promised you I’d never forget.”

I wake to an empty bed—something I’m more than used to—and the sound of Aaron talking in an agitated tone in the other room. After rubbing my eyes and pulling on my robe, I pad through silently.

“Yes.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “Jesus… I’m not supposed to be working this week. You know that, Dad… Fine… Yes. We’ll be there… Okay. Bye.”

He drops the phone on the floor and drops back on the sofa. His arm rests over his eyes, and he sighs heavily.

“That doesn’t sound like a great way to start your day,” I say softly.

“It’s not!”

I say nothing at the sharp tone in his voice and flick the coffee machine on. I refuse to do anything to make him feel better if he’s going to snap at me like an angry puppy.

“Sorry,” he says, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

“Damn right you shouldn’t have.” I pour a cup of coffee. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? If not, I’m going to shower.”

He laughs quietly, but I can still feel the tension in his body. Like he’ll snap if you push him too far. “Someone I’m not particularly fond of heard we’re in Paris this week. They’ve taken the liberty of organizing a company dinner here at the hotel tonight, and my father just informed me that we’re expected to attend. Required to, actually.”

“What if we had plans?” I step away and raise an eyebrow.

“We did.” He sighs heavily and leans against the counter. “Now we have new ones. Believe me. I’m not happy about it, Day.”

“Can’t you just explain you’re not working this week? That this is a vacation?”

“No.”

“Well, who is it?”

“Who?”

I click my tongue. “The person organizing it.”

“Oh. No one important. I’m not sure they’ll even be there.” He turns away and pours a cup of coffee.

“Aaron.”

“Leave it, Dayton.”

Ass. I put my mug down with a little too much force and storm into the bedroom. There isn’t a chance in hell I’m going to stay in this room with him in a mood like this.

I change into some workout gear and pack a change of clothes and a bikini in my bag. A session in the gym and the pool followed by the spa should give him enough time to calm the hell down.

“Look, I have a couple of calls to make now. Maybe you should go out for a couple of hours.”

I put my hand on the door and look at him. My mild annoyance has morphed into anger, and I’m not afraid to tell him that I’m pissed off. “I was planning to stay out all day. Don’t worry.”

“Day…”

I yank the door open. “What time do you need me back here?”

“Four,” he sighs.

“Perfect. Don’t bother calling me unless you’ve pulled your head from your ass and calmed the fuck down.” I slam the door behind me with a childish satisfaction.

I’m not above using teenager-style defiance to let him know that I’m pissed off either.

It’s still early, so the gym is empty aside from two older guys on the rowing machines. I snap a band from my wrist and tie my hair back, heading toward the treadmill. If anything is going to work out this annoyance, it’s the treadmill.

I ease into it, starting off with a slow walk and gradually building up to a steady run. My feet pound against it with every step, and I turn the incline up a little more.

Why can’t he tell me who’s organizing the dinner? Or, more to the point, why won’t he? I know he said he isn’t fond of them, but sheesh…

Maybe it’s an old friendship turned sour. It happens in business, right? It’s a ruthless world. Or maybe it’s someone who works at the company he doesn’t like very much and is doing it to spite him.

Maybe it’s an ex-girlfriend.

I choke on my thought. God, it actually burns to think that—but it’s possible. He’s bound to have seen someone—maybe more than one someone—in that time. She could work at the company still.

But why can’t he just tell me about any of those? What about any of them is so bad that he has to keep it to himself and talk to me like I’m a petulant child when I ask?

Well, there goes burning off my anger.

I give up on the running and leave the gym as quickly as I came. The pool. Water. That’s what I need—the weightless feeling of being suspended by its remarkable force. Perhaps it’ll take away some of my crap weighing me down.

God knows there’s enough of it.

I change quickly and dive into the empty pool. I push tiny hairs away from my eyes and bob in the water.

Just when I’d decided it was worth it to stay. To give up everything I have in Seattle and take a completely different path in my life.

Just when I’d decided to give him what he’s asked for, this happens, and now I doubt my ability to make the right decision.

Maybe it’s good I couldn’t tell him yesterday.

I probably made it impulsively and need more time to make such a huge choice.

But as I dip below the water and jump into my first length of the pool, I
know
it’s a good thing I couldn’t tell him yesterday. My gut says so.

It also says that the happiness I’ve finally found again is too good to be true.

And everyone knows that gut instincts are never, ever wrong.