But something tells me I can trust Aaron. Something tells me honesty really is the best policy with him, and I don’t want us to get off on the wrong foot here.
“Commitment issues,” I say carefully. “She doesn’t think she has the time or the energy for a relationship, so she pays for my company—and others—” I make a point to enunciate theothers, so he knows I’m not the only one. I feel like for some reason, that’s an important distinction.
“And being as we’ve worked together for a while—”
“She’s comfortable with you without having to commit,” he says, his voice low, deep. Understanding.
“Yeah.” I look at him as he carefully zips his suitcase, noting the way the light catches the highlights in his dark hair.
“Makes sense.” He pulls his suitcase off the bed and rolls it in the corner before taking a seat on the bed by the headboard.
He leans into a pile of pillows, his gaze fixed on me as I try my hardest to stay focused on pulling out my clothes.
“You can use my dresser.”
“Thanks.” I clear my throat, feeling strangely vulnerable.
“No problem. It’s the least I can do.”
I pull out my clothes and make several piles on the bed so I can keep them organized.
“You said you have never been to the beach,” he says slowly.
“That’s right.” I settle my underwear in the drawer first.
“So, no beach dates either, I take it? Client wise?”
I shake my head. “No. I mean, I once went to the lake with a woman for a wedding, but it rained, so they moved the whole thing indoors.”
“So, tell me, Prince Charming, what would your perfect beach date look like?”
I smirk, noting the lilt in his voice. I know what he’s doing, and it will not work. He’s not going to out-romance the professional, here.
“Well,Prince Charmingmight say a perfect beach date would be something super trope-y. Like strolling the beach at sunset and skinny-dipping in the waves.” I let out a chuckle. “You know, because romance novels always love to get everyone naked, because it’s sexy.”
Aaron laughs, the sound smooth and dark. “Right, of course.”
The way he’s looking at me makes my cheeks flush, and I turn away to grab a fresh pile of shirts to put away.
“What aboutJacob?” he asks, that same smooth, melting tone sayingmyname, making my insides warm.
“What about him?” I arrange my shirts in the drawer.
It’s then I feel warmth envelope me, like a fire. It’s the smallest touch, just his hand on my hip, gently moving me aside. I realize as he lets go he has a pile of clothes for me. Another pile of underwear I apparently missed. I look up at him with my flushed cheeks, my cock twitching away in my pants as the air around me gets thin. Hot. He offers me my pile of underwear like an olive branch.
Aaron looks at me, then his gaze dips to my mouth.
“What does Jacob’s perfect beach date look like?”
I think about how to answer him, if I should at all. But as much as I want to put that wall up, as much as I want to walk away from him to grab my clothes right now, I can’t. I lean in just a fraction and he parts his lips.
It’s the faintest motion, an involuntary response.
I’ve developed a talent for delivering people’s perfect moments, those perfect dates and kisses they only dream about.
But in all of those moments, I was the one in control. It was my job to give them everything they wanted, butter them up and get them pliable, comfortable with me.
But never did I ever think anyone would put me in the hot seat like this. Never did I expect anyone to give me a taste of my own medicine, and I certainly never expected anyone to make me so damn pliable.
