New kink unlocked.
It takes effort to not let out the guttural moan taking up residence in my chest. No one’s ever mentioned my profession during an intimate moment before. I never thought I’d be interested in hearing it, but now that I have? I might be obsessed.
“With pleasure,” I murmur.
Two can play this game. Maggie rocked my world when she licked my thumb. It’s time for some retribution.
She brings the snack to my mouth. I take the offering, my teeth grazing her finger and biting into the flesh. It’s not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough for her to know she has my attention. She’shadmy attention since I walked through the door and saw her for the first time.
Maggie hisses, the melody music to my ears. “Aiden.” It’s a whimper, like what I’m doing isn’t enough.
“Tell me to stop.” I take her hand and kiss her wrist, traces of sugar staining her skin. I kiss the underside of her arm, the spot just below her elbow. She’s warm and smooth under my lips, the smell of oranges even more potent. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
“What if I don’t want you to stop?” Her palm cups my cheek, pressing against my beard. “What if I asked you to keep going?”
“Then I would.”
It’s an easy answer. I don’t know what, exactly, we’re talking about, but it’s all the same. Whatever she asks, I’ll give her. If she wants my hand between her legs, I’ll do it. She wants to sit on my face? Check. Does she want me to track down a cake for her? Consider it done.
She hums and her eyes sweep over my face. They travel from my eyebrows down to my nose, landing on my lips.
Ask me,I think.
Ask me to kiss you.
Maggie leans forward, and I go to meet her halfway.
Okay,fuck, we’re doing this. With jam on my hand and a wicker basket poking my leg—not to mention tons of people watching us—I’m going to kiss this woman. Her hand falls from my cheek to my hip, settling there. I’m about to say something, about to whisper her name, when I hear a click and freeze.
“Okay.” Jeremiah pulls out the Polaroid picture from his camera. Figures come into focus, developing from a dark square to one full of life and color. “How are you two feeling?”
I glance at Maggie and nod, letting her go first.
“Honestly? I’m kind of surprised how easy this is,” she answers.
“Agreed,” I chime in. I run my hand over my jaw and my eyes stay connected with hers. “It’s fun when you have a good partner. I’m still not quite sure what to do with my hands, but I don’t think I’ve made a total fool of myself.”
“See for yourself,” Jeremiah says. He hands the small photo to me. Maggie leans in, crowding my space, and I scoot closer to her.
“Maggie Houston.” I whistle. “You’re hot as hell.”
“Hush.” She touches my chest, fingers pressing into my skin. “You don’t look like a fool at all.” Her voice drops, speaking only to me. “You’re hot as hell too, Doc.”
Before I can come up with a quick-witted comment, Jeremiah is taking the photo back, tucking it into his pocket. “These scenes have gone very well. We have two options going forward. We can either call it a day, stop here, and head home. Or, we transition to the sexier part of the shoot. Clothes off, underwear on. We’ll move to the bed. This might seem intimate, so I understand there could be hesitation at doing something that feels invasive and personal. It’s not going to be my call. It’s up to you.”
I look at Maggie again. Our eyes meet and lock on each other. The idea of seeing her,feeling her, without clothes nearly sends me into a tailspin. I could run my hand up her leg. Revel in her breath on my bare skin. Everyone will see the fucking boner I’m rocking, but it would be worth it, to spend more time with her.
I lift my eyebrow, telling her I’m not going to be the one to make the decision.
She is.
TWELVE
MAGGIE
Aidenand I rise to our feet. His mouth stays closed, deferring the decision to me. He might not speak, but his eyes reveal everything. I know what his answer would be. It’s written out with his lapse in attention as his gaze falls to my hips. The flex of his fingers, like they want to grab my belt loops and tug me toward him. His hand adjusting the front of his jeans—holy shit, he’s hard—and the curve of his lips into a pleased smile.
My head bobs up and down in slow motion, an eager confirmation ofyes, of course we can ditch our clothes. It’s an emphatic answer, and I hope my neck isn’t jerking too violently as I think about how much of Aiden I'll get to see. Nerves are replaced with the overwhelming, debilitating notion that this… this jumping from an airplane without a parachute, free-falling from a cliff into ocean water, soaring over the craters of Earth on a glider sensation, feelsright.
