Final Call (The Call #2) (10 page)

Aaron’s lips curl
slightly at the corners, and he brushes some hair from my face. He
leaves his hand cupping my head and draws our faces closer
together.

“Because I couldn’t be
away from you for any longer than I had to be. I couldn’t stand by
and not fight for you when you were back here. There wasn’t a
single part of me that would let me do that.”

“Your fighting could
use some work.” I tap his nose. “Pinning a girl to her front door
and kissing the shit out of her isn’t exactly a way to win back her
heart.”

“But you’re so
stubborn,” he teases. “You wouldn’t listen to what I had to say, so
I had to make you feel it instead. Of course, I ultimately decided
you were going to listen to me anyway.”

I narrow my eyes.
“Men.”

His parents rejoin us,
and I slide back along the booth seat. Aaron clasps my hip and
slides me back into him, and he digs his fingers into my skin in a
warning.
Don’t move.

A light is shining in
his mom’s eyes, and the way his dad is smiling tells me that they
were watching from the bar. At least his mom was.

“So, son,” Brandon
begins after checking we all have enough to drink, “are you all
ready for London?”

I stop, raise an
eyebrow, and slowly turn my face to Aaron. “London?”

He parts his lips then
closes his mouth again, instead choosing to wet his bottom lip.

“Aaron! You didn’t tell
her?” Carly scolds him.

“No, no he didn’t,” I
answer for him. “Evidently we need to work on the talking part of
our relationship.”

Aaron’s eyes widen in a
move so slight I’m sure only I noticed it. His grasp on me tightens
even more, like he wants to hold on to my last two words and not
let them go in case he’s imagining it.

“Yes,” he says slowly.
“Evidently, we do.”

“I’m sorry. Did I say
‘we’? I meant you.” I smile sweetly and lay my hand on his
chest.

“I guessed as much. You
talk enough for the both of us, sweetheart.”

“And apparently you
should tell me to shut up once in a while.” I jab him with my
finger.

Aaron sighs and looks
at his father. “Thank you, Dad. If you don’t mind, I think Dayton
and I will call it a night. Apparently, we have an upcoming trip to
discuss.”

We say our goodbyes,
all the while my eyes cutting to Aaron in displeasure. Is this
something he’s conveniently declined to mention yet again?

I get into the waiting
town car without a word to him, and his sigh drifts across the car
to me.

“Are you mad at me
again?”

“I haven’t stopped
being mad at you. I just got better at hiding it.” I spin in my
seat. “When do you go?”

“In three days.”

“And when were you
going to tell me?”

“I wasn’t. I was
obviously planning to kidnap you in the dead of night, sling you
over my shoulder, and hoist you off to London for ten days.” He
grins.

“Cor, don’t hold back.
Romance me, baby.” I roll my eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’re really mad I
didn’t, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m mad! Is this
how it’s always going to be? Am I always going to be finding these
kind of very important things out from other people?”

He rubs a hand down his
face, and I follow him from the car. He doesn’t reply as we walk
through the lobby and step into the elevator to take us to his
penthouse apartment. Silence lingers through the journey, the only
thing between us is my anger and his rapidly developing
annoyance.

I can always tell. His
hand twitches and he flexes his fingers when it’s building in him,
and his eyes take on this heated hardness. I’m sure the heated part
is only for my benefit, but angry looks good on him.

“No,” he finally says
when we enter the apartment. “It honestly slipped my mind until Dad
mentioned it tonight. I would have remembered when I arrived at the
office tomorrow and seen it on my schedule.”

“Then you would have
called me right away, correct?”

“No. I would have gone
to my scheduled meeting then called you.”

I huff and stalk into
the spare room. Dammit, I don’t even want to be here tonight. I
want to go home and sink into the comfort of my own bed. I want to
cocoon myself in my blankets and just breathe.

The floorboards creak
as Aaron follows me. I slide my fingers beneath the shoulder of my
dress, ready to push it down, but his hand stills the movement. His
breath cascades over my bare neck, making the tiny hairs stand on
end.

“Is this how it’s
always going to be?” he whispers, repeating my own words back to
me. “I do something wrong and you get mad at me?”

“There’s no getting.” I
shrug his hand off. “I’m never not mad. We’ve covered this several
times.”

He pulls me back into
him, tilting my head to one side. His fingers splay on my stomach
and hold me in place, trapped against the hardness of his body.
“Even when I make you come?” His finger slips beneath my dress
strap and slides it over the curve of my shoulder. “Are you mad at
me then?”

“Deliriously so.” I
sigh when he kisses the part of my neck where it meets my shoulder,
that tender, erotic spot that seems to be connected to every nerve
in my body.

“I like your
deliriously mad.” His lips brush across the bottom of my neck, and
he gathers my hair in his free hand, exposing the other side of my
neck. He lets the dark locks fall to the side as he slides the
other side of my dress down. “I wanted you in this dress the second
I saw it, but now I believe I’d much prefer you out of it.”

Everything in me comes
alive. My nerve endings tingle animatedly until the deep ache of my
clit overshadows it. I curve into him instinctively as he stands
before me. His skin is hot as my hands find his waist, but the
connection lasts only seconds before he steps back. My hands fall
to my sides, and he moves to me again.

“No touching,” he
murmurs, the low, demanding growl in it making me shiver.

His fingers trace the
neckline of the dress, ghosting over the curve of my breasts, and
his fingers are soon replaced by his hot mouth as he drags the
material down my body. It’s so effortless for him, peeling the
tight outfit from me, even as he lavishes attention on my
breasts.

My nipples harden
almost painfully inside my bra as he continues his journey down. A
gentle breeze caresses me when the dress is pulled over my ass. It
pools at my feet, my body finally free from its restraints.

Aaron’s tongue licks a
lazy path just above my thong from hip to hip. I push my hips into
him, reaching forward to steady myself.

His hands shoot out and
grasp my wrists. He bends my arms around my body and pins my hands
to the bottom of my back. I can’t move despite my best efforts. His
grip is too strong and steadily certain.

“Let’s make you
deliriously mad, baby.”

Chapter
Nine

He brushes his nose
across my mound and flicks his tongue against me. The sensation is
rough through the lace of my thong, and it makes me jerk and
whimper at the same time. He flattens the end of his tongue over my
clit and rubs repeatedly in slow circles. The lace grazes over me,
heightening the pleasure he’s giving me.

My knees give out,
bending a little at a jolt of pleasure shooting through my pussy.
Aaron lets go of me with one hand and cups my ass, righting me.

“Stay standing.” His
voice is raw.

I lock my knees in
place. He slides my thong down my legs, leaving it hooked around my
ankles, and encourages me to open my legs a little. I do it, unable
to do anything but what he wants.

Unable to do anything
but release the low moan in my throat when his mouth covers my
pussy completely.

My hips push into him,
pull away, thrash, and twist. He continues his gentle onslaught
against me with his tongue. No part of me is unexplored, no part
untouched by the gentle swipe of his tongue.

He squeezes my ass in
time with every movement his tongue makes. My legs bend again at
the heat building inside, and his squeeze becomes a sharp slap.

“Stand!”

I moan in pleasure and
frustration as I fight my natural response. I shouldn’t be standing
as this pleasure ripples gently through me. I should be collapsing,
ready for the final hit. The leg-trembling hit that I’m not
supposed to be standing for.

I explode on that final
thought. I cry out, only held up by Aaron holding me in place. His
tongue continues to work against me even as my hips thrash against
him. My eyes close, and my whole body is tight. He keeps his mouth
on me until the final wave sweeps through me and leaves me
quivering against him.

He lowers me to him and
wraps my arms around his neck. His arms go around me, strong and
assured, and he carries me from the room.

“What are you doing?” I
say against his neck. Unable to resist his pulse pounding before my
eyes, I close my lips over the throbbing spot and suck lightly.

He groans, his body
going taut, his step faltering. I smirk at it. I love eliciting
that response from him. I love bringing him to his knees.

“I’m not fucking you
anywhere other than my bed.”

He drops me on it
unceremoniously, and I scramble against the soft sheets, wearing
only my bra and my heels.

“Nowhere else?”

Aaron removes his
clothes, keeping his eyes on mine, and stalks toward me. With his
hands either side of me, he leans forward on the bed until he’s
right over me.

“Just for tonight.
There are plenty of surfaces in this house just waiting for me to
lay your gorgeous body back on while I fuck you senseless.”

He unclips my bra, and
after sliding it down my arms, he whips it from beneath me. It
flies across the room, hitting the wall with a small thud before
falling to the floor. I pull my gaze from the bra and find the
pools of unadulterated lust staring down at me.

“Even that wall?” I
whisper.

He trails his hands to
my thighs. “Even that wall.”

“What about the kitchen
side?”

“All of them.”

“The sofa?”

“Every cushion.”

He pushes the end of
his cock inside me, and I feel the pull in my muscles as they
stretch to accommodate him and let him in farther.

“And the desk?”

Aaron reaches behind
his back and hooks my ankles together. He leans over me slowly,
lowering his body on top of mine, and bites my bottom lip gently.
“Especially the fucking desk.”

He fills me in one
swift thrust. I throw my head back at the exquisite feeling of
having him inside me, of being fully around him and connected to
him. Of having his breath hot against my cheek and the tightening
of his jaw as I tilt my hips up, letting him drive deeper into
me.

His thrusts are hard,
each withdraw as slow as the last, and the mixture of them
repeatedly begs my body to respond. He sinks deeper until he hits
the end of me. A strangled cry filled with pleasure and pain
escapes me, and Aaron growls in his throat.

He slides his hand to
the small of my back and holds my hips up as the slowness of a
moment ago dissipates into a frenzy of hard pounds that pushes a
moan from me with each one. I grip his back, my whole body lifting
from the bed aside from my shoulders.

My muscles clench as
the orgasm approaches. As my deliriously mad oblivion creeps up on
me, ready to explode and shatter any semblance of rationality into
nothing.

“Dayton. Fuck!” Aaron
growls against my jaw.

“Fuck!” I arch into
him, and he takes my mouth roughly. My nails drag across his skin,
and he takes my bottom lip between his teeth and tugs in
payback.

That undoes me.

Muscles I didn’t know I
had constrict with the sheer force of the pleasure assaulting my
body. I vaguely hear Aaron’s curse as he comes through the pounding
of my heart in my ears. He’s buried in me to the hilt, and my pussy
is clenching and clenching and clenching, drawing everything from
him, drawing my own out.

His lips take mine
tenderly, and he kisses me this way until my body goes limp beneath
him.

Without a word, he
lifts me and carries me into his bathroom. Somewhere in the back of
my mind, I register the same neutral tones that are prevalent
throughout the apartment, but I’m more interested when he sets me
on the side of the bath and starts to run the taps.

I’m too tired to ask
what he’s doing. Why he’s running a bath at whatever time it might
be.

I watch the tub fill up
with hot water, the bubbles steadily growing. Aaron kills the taps
when it’s half full and steps in. He swings my legs over the side,
making me smile, and pulls me in with him.

He sits in front of me,
my legs resting over his, and I lean into him. I wrap my arms
around his waist and close my eyes, focusing on the beating of his
heart beneath my cheek.

The rhythmic beat is as
soothing to me as the water. The feeling of his body against mine
is as comforting and grounding as submerging myself in the depths
of the bath. It’s more freeing than swimming endless lengths of a
pool.

Because it’s real, and
it’s tangible, and it’s something that won’t slip through my
fingers if I hold tight enough.

“What are you doing?” I
mumble when I feel him tying my hair up.

“I don’t want to get it
wet,” he answers.

A few seconds later,
the sound of a bottle squirting reaches my ears, and I feel the
cold shock of the shower gel against my back. I squeal and
squirm.

Aaron laughs, his chest
vibrating, and rubs his hands over my back. It warms instantly, and
I smile as he washes my body. Every part of me is washed, even my
submerged legs. He grabs a sponge and trickles the water over me,
washing the soap from my body, the whole time without me
moving.