“Oh,” I say, kinda stupidly, very breathlessly, but fully unable to gather any other thoughts at the moment.
He must see the disappointment in my eyes, because he speaks up again. “You’re gonna have to give me a little, okay? I wasn’t expecting today to go like…this,” Aaron says. “This has already become the best day of my life. If I embarrass myself within the first ten seconds of you touching me… I might ruin this memory for both of us.” His quirky, beautiful face has a grimace on it at the thought, and I trace it with my fingertips, smiling at him.
“You literally couldn’t ruin today, Stone.”
The corner of his mouth edges up in a smirk. “Why don’t we go back to the house for now? I’ll order us some food, we can watch a movie or something?” He places another kiss to my lips, and I’m positive I’ll be down for anything this man wants to do to me. With me. Whatever.
It’s only when he stoops down to pick something up off the floor and slip it into his front pocket that I realize he didn’t put my underwear back on, only my jeans. He winks at me when he sees me notice the motion, before readjusting that bulge in his pants, and then lifting me from the bed.
Aaron carries me back to the house, wrapped around him as close as I can possibly get, and I forget all about that sunset I was so desperate to witness up here. Looks like we’re gonna have alotof sunsets we can catch together. There’s other things I’m more desperate for right now.
THIRTY-SIX
AARON
Carrying Gemma into my house, my room, into my world, my life, one thought keeps playing on repeat in my head.
This is actually fucking happening.
There’s this warm, squishy feeling overflowing in my chest that, combined with the ball of pure need in my low abdomen, makes me never want to put this girl in my arms down. I keep bringing my lips to her neck, her face, the top of her head, anywhere I can reach, pressing kisses to her as we go. She keeps giggling in response, and that feeling in my chest floats higher, wider, like it’s too big to be contained and it’s expanding out of the constraints of my body.
I force myself to drop her down in my closet, by the rack that houses my T-shirts.
“I’m gonna order dinner for us, then hop in the shower,” I tell her. “You…wanna shower? Or change into something comfier?” My brows feel like they’ve joined my hairline, trying not to be presumptuous about her accompanying me in the bathroom, while absolutely dying to take her against those tiled walls, and yet still silently begging her to give me a minute to collect myself before we go any further. In a word, I’m a mess.
“Mmm,” she ponders it over. “I think I’ll just borrow some of your clothes.” She gives me a little devilish smile, like she’s getting as much pleasure from that thought as I am, but I promise you, she’s not. Something primal stirs within me at the thought of claiming her in such a basic way. Even though she’s stolen countless hoodies from me over the years, seeing her wrapped in my clothing after she just came all over my tongue, it’s like the puzzle pieces locking together in place, how they should be, making a complete picture out of the shambles that’s been my life without her.
I ask her what she wants for dinner, she fucking tells me straight up (I scored big on the girlfriend thing, I know, a mental high ten is in order), so I order it on my phone and then sneak away into the ensuite bathroom before I lose my patience and take her right here on the closet floor.
I’ve put a fair amount of thought into how I’d want our first time to go over these last couple of weeks, and was kind of leaning on taking her away on a trip, just the two of us, maybe to New York? The Four Seasons, or the Waldorf Astoria? Something where we could just be completely spoiled, no responsibilities, no commitments, just focus on each other. Apparently I won’t get that chance, so my only real requirement now is I just wanna not fuck this up, tbh.
She really took me by surprise out there at the treehouse, and I want to give her the chance to digest everything. Make sure she’s not rushing this. But Jesus, I only have so much strength in me. If she’d said she wanted to shower together, I’d be buried inside her up against this wall right now.
Instead, I’m having a quick talk with myself, working to convince myself not to rub one out in the shower with her just on the other side of said wall, trying to reason with my boner. It doesn’t really work, but by the time I’m dressed in a pair of thinlounge pants and white tee, I’m at least down to half mast. A rather painful half mast, but still.
That little chat must’ve taken longer than I thought, cause I find my girl standing at the larger of the two kitchen islands, back to me, as she’s diving into the food already. We got Mediterranean, and she’s got a piece of pita in one hand, a fork with veggies in the other.
I sneak up behind her quietly, letting my eyes soak in those long legs covered only by one of my T-shirts (not any of the shirts fromherdresser, mind you—just taking the chance to remind you and me both that she chose something of mine) that hangs just past her cute little ass, and bite my knuckle as I get close to her. Fucking hell, she’s a knockout.
My arms wrap around her middle, my head coming to rest on her shoulder as I kiss her cheek and she startles, jumping just a little, before melting back into my hold. “Hey you,” I breathe into her neck. Can’t help but run my hands up and down her sides, her flat stomach, reach one up under that shirt she’s wearing until she giggles, but she doesn’t slap my hand away or stop me, so I take what I can get for a second, before I reach over her shoulder and snatch her forkful of food with my mouth.
At that, she turns her head around, giving me a playful little scowl before leaning in to give me a kiss anyway. God, she’s cute. I nibble on her neck, her throat, her shoulder while she eats the real food, and eventually the delicious smells win out and I pause to down a plate or two of chicken, veg and hummus. She grabs us a couple of cans of flavored Pellegrino from the oversized fridge to top it all off.
“Damn, Stone. You realize you have like a month’s worth of meals in here?”
Yeah. Never cut my chef loose, so they’ve just been stacking up while I’ve been shadowing her. “Haven’t been around the house much,” I tell her with a shrug. If we’re gonna be spendingsome more time here, he’ll be happy to hear his creations are getting put to good use once again.
Gem makes a plan to go through the dates on the containers and donate what is still good to some of the people she’d met at the library who might appreciate the fresh food, and then we make our way to the living room and cuddle up on the couch.
What? We’re cuddling, I’ve got no problem admitting it.
She’s glued to my side, her legs thrown over mine, my arms holding her as close as possible, and my lips find some open skin of hers to kiss every five or ten seconds. It makes picking out a movie to watch a little difficult, but you won’t catch me complaining. Def wasn’t exaggerating earlier. This is the best day of my life, no competition.
One of my hands keeps roaming, tracing the side of her that isn’t pressed against me, trailing down to the edge of my shirt that looks so good on her, finding the seam of the panties she’s got on beneath it and running a finger underneath the hem of them, right on her hip. She’s keeping her eyes focused on the selection screen—that makes one of us—but she’s shivering as I touch her. All of my focus is on her, all the little ways she reacts to my touch. I can’t wait to get to know every one of her tells, which spots drive her the craziest, the ways I can make her come the hardest.
Why didn’t we do this years ago? (Don’t answer that.)
I’m such an idiot. (Don’t answer that, either.)
