“Please,” I gasp, not entirely sure what I’m asking for. More intensity, more friction, more of whatever magic he’s working between my legs.
Aaron reads my body like a legal brief he’s determined to win. He curls his fingers inside me, finding the spot that makes me lose all sense, while his mouth works my clit. The pleasure builds so quickly that I forget how to breathe. My body goes tense as I arch against him. “Shit, Aaron, I have to pee. Stop.”
He ignores my objection, doubling down like opposing counsel who knows they’ve found a weakness. His fingers move faster, his mouth more insistent. “Aaron… fuck… Aaron, I’m going to pee.”
“It’s not pee.” He pulls back just enough to speak, his fingers maintaining their motion. “Trust me, Honeybee, let it go. I’m thirsty.”
His mouth returns to me, and something inside me gives in completely. The pressure builds higher than anything I’ve felt before, breaking over me in waves that have me calling his name like it’s the only thing I can remember. My vision blurs as pleasure takes over, my body shaking against his mouth. I feel a sudden rush of wetness between us, and for a moment, I’m horrified, until I see Aaron’s face, full of satisfaction as he takes it all in. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and one of the most delicious things I’ve tasted.”
I’m still catching my breath, my body humming with aftershocks. “I’ve never… That’s never happened before.”
“I’m honored to be your first,” he says as he climbs up beside me. His lips find mine, and I taste myself on his tongue, which should be mortifying but somehow isn’t. Not with him. “Pick a number, any number.”
“Why?”
“Just pick a number.” He kisses my neck.
“Six?”
“Perfect. I would have been disappointed if you had said one. Now, I have five more times to make you squirt before the night is over.”
“Huh? Five more times? Aaron, I don’t think that’s physically possible.”
“Challenge accepted,” he whispers as his lips graze the hollow of my throat. His fingertips trace invisible patterns across my ribs. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I just discovered a new religion,” I confess, making him chuckle. “But also terrified that you might actually try to follow through on that number.”
“Oh, I’m definitely following through. But we have all night. No rushing.”
“What about you? This seems rather one-sided.” Which is true.
“Trust me, watching you come apart like that was plenty for me.” He shifts slightly, and I can feel how hard he is against my hip. “Besides, anticipation makes everything better.” Before I can respond, he’s lifting me effortlessly, carrying me toward the bedroom. “Time for round two?”
CHAPTER 23
AARON
The past fivenights have been everything I hoped for and nothing as I expected. Yes, the physical connection between us is incredible—earth-shattering, life-altering, incredible. I trace the length of her bare arm, careful not to wake her. I can’t help but picture how it will feel to roll over in this bed with no Minji, no subtle scent of her herbal shampoo on my pillow, no postpartum analysis of our latest true crime episode the next morning.
After we made love for the second time, I tried to talk about what happens after my tour. Not in a pressuring way, just exploring possibilities. She deflected with a joke about how she’d have to find another sex buddy. When I didn’t laugh, she kissed me and said we should enjoy what we have now rather than worry about it later. Classic Minji, always keeping one foot firmly planted in her escape route.
I’m starting to wonder if I’ve misread everything. What if this is purely physical for her? A convenient way to scratch an itch with someone she trusts enough not to hurt her. The thought makes my chest constrict painfully. I’ve written enough romance novels to recognize the signs of falling in love, and I’m exhibiting every single one of them. Meanwhile, Minji treats ourrelationship like a pleasant but temporary diversion—something to be enjoyed before returning to real life.
She stirs beside me, her body instinctively curling closer to mine. Even in sleep, she seeks my warmth, and that tiny gesture gives me hope despite everything. Maybe I’m overthinking this. Perhaps she’s just scared. After all, I’m the one who’s supposed to believe in love against all odds—it’s literally my job.
But believing in fictional love is easy. The heroes in my books always get their happily-ever-after because I write it that way. Real life doesn’t come with that guarantee, and I’m terrified that when I board that plane tomorrow, whatever we’ve built these past six days will evaporate like morning mist.
“Good morning,” Minji mumbles against my chest, her voice thick with sleep. She pulls back her eyes, fluttering open to meet mine.
“Morning, gorgeous.” I brush my lips against her forehead, breathing in the lingering scent of her shampoo. “How’d you sleep?”
“Mmm, deeply.” A yawn escapes her. “You?”
“Like a baby.”
She shifts against me. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”
“Ten.” My fingertips trace lazy circles on her shoulder, committing every curve to memory. “Should start throwing things in a suitcase today, I guess.”
