Page 25 of Sinking Tide


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Aoi is Devon Reid? No fucking way! I read every single one of DR’s books, but it turns out they were Aoi’s all along? That can’t be true. Why does he write under a pen name? Why not show the world how amazing he is without hiding?

Linda sent me his schedule along with the report. Aoi’s currently having a photo shoot in Carter’s studio and will be free the rest of the day to work from home.

A photo shoot? For what? Aoi’s an author, and since he writes under a pen name anyway, why does he need to get his pictures taken?

Wait, is he going to publish a new book under his real name?

I fight a grin.

He’s stepping out of the shadows after lingering in the darkness for so long. I can’t even explain the pride swelling inside me.

All that’s left to do is join his side. We’ve spent too many years apart, and now is the moment to take back what I’ve yearned for myentire life.

11

Aoi

Teddy watches the conversation unfold like a movie, yet doesn’t utter a word the entire time.

I’m still supposed to pick an outfit, but they’re a bit problematic considering they expose my collarbones. I wouldn’t have minded another day, but the freaking hickeys left by the guy I banged last night are too flashy.

I have never had to do this kind of thing before, so I don’t know how to hide hickeys without just straight up wearing a turtleneck. Most guys I fucked were too focused on pounding my ass to bother leaving hickeys.

Can’t say I didn’t prefer that. I just used them as a distraction, after all. I didn’t need marks on my body as reminders of my promiscuity.

Aiden chuckles and walks into the room, leaning against the counter. “Liliana brought donuts for the staff. You two should go get some for yourself before they’re all gone. I saw Nolan already stuffing his face.”

Samantha stomps her foot. “That fucker. Come, Teddy, we’re not gonna let him eat them all. Oh, and Aoi? We’ll be back in a minute. Want a donut?”

I shake my head. The next second, both girls bolt out of the room, leaving me alone with Aiden and a decision to make. He walks up to me, his demeanor charismatic and mesmerizing.

“How come you’re here of all places?” he asks teasingly. “Wait, let me guess. You missed me so much you had to seek me out at work?” He steps forward, closing the distance until we’re only inches apart.

I ignore his mischievous smirk. “You sure you don’t need a mental check up for that arrogance?”

He laughs brightly and traps my chin between two fingers, tipping it up to look at him. His gaze drops to my lips, lingering there for a second before it drifts back to my eyes. “Let’s go out for dinner.”

My lips part subconsciously, and I hold a hand against his chest, putting some distance between us. He smells sweet and leathery, and if I didn’t know better, I would kiss him right here and now.

I never seem to think with logic–only ever with my heart or my body. No in between. But of course, I’m here for work not for pleasure, so I push him away. “No, thank you. But could you help me with something?”

Aiden smirks, visibly liking that I’m relying on him rather than someone else. Men love having power over others. I know exactly how that sense of superiority will make him oblige.

He shrugs, never letting that smirk leave his lips. “What do you need?”

“Close the door first.”

His brows shoot up in surprise before he bites his lip. “If you wanted to fuck me you should’ve said so. I don’t mind doing it here, but the others might come in at any moment.” He laughs, eagerly closing the door behind him. “You’re such a tease.”

“What? No, just shut up and come here.” I grab his arm and tug him toward the hidden changing area behind the wall. “I just need your help with this mess.”

I start undressing to show him the hickeys, but his hands fly to my hips, pulling me against him.

“How do I hide these hickeys for the shoot?” I ask, peeking down at my bruised skin. “I don’t want others to see me like this.”

I’m already a disappointment. No need to be an embarrassment too.

He gazes down at my skin and the dark burgundy marks inked across. A deep frown furrows his brows, and he detaches himself from me, clicking his tongue.