“Seriously?” My brows knit together. He has to be shitting me.
“Well, yeah?” He places the beer glass to his lips, and I can’t help but stare at him. His lips look just as amazing as they feel. I have thought of him so much more than I care to admit.
“And what would be the point?”
“To apologize for being a jerk.”
I shake my head. “You seem to do a lot of that, huh? Be an ass, apologize, be an ass all over again.”
He looks annoyed now. “I should have called, all right? I’m not good at this.”
“What? Being hot and cold? You’ve got that down pretty good.”
He laughs. Darren comes over and places a beer in front of me, earning him the stink-eye.
“I’m going out for a bit. Hold the fort,” Darren tells me, and I shake my head. The traitor. I look around, and there are no customers.
“Women want shit I can’t give them.” Aidan drinks his beer, not meeting my gaze.
“How the hell do you know what I want?” I state.
“’Cause it’s always the same, and I am not that guy. I’m not boyfriend material. And that is what you want, right? That’s what you expect from me.”
I stare at him, stunned.
“You shouldn’t be so quick to judge,” I say through clenched teeth.
“So, you don’t want to play house?”
“Dammit, why go through all this trouble if you’re just going to piss me off?” I hiss.
“’Cause you’re cute when you’re mad. I like that a whole lot.”
“Fucking unbelievable.”
“That you are,” he smirks, standing and caging me in at the bar. I spin to face him, the smell of leather and beer a heady mixture. “Why don’t you tell me what you want from me?”
“To be left alone.” I’m lost in the storm of his eyes and the electricity that’s like a livewire between us.
“You say that Nightingale, but your body says something else.” He looks down at my chest, and I flush at the sight of my pebbled nipples. “I think you want me to kiss you again.”
“I don’t—” He grips my chin and forces me to look at him.
“Don’t lie to me.” His voice is dripping with lust and desire, and I squeeze my thighs shut, trying to push back the need coursing through me.
He touches his lips to mine, and I cave, granting him the access he needs. My hands feel his toned chest and arms, and I kiss him with all the frustration I have built up in me. His hand slides down my body, over my sensitive chest. He unbuttons and unzips my jeans with expertise.
“God, what if someone walks in?” I say.
“Then they’ll have a show, won’t they?” He slips his hand in my panties, and I cry out. Fuck, it has been so long since someone has touched me, desired me, turned me on to this level.
“I’m going to make you come on my fingers, then I’m taking you home,” he says, kissing a trail from my ear to my collarbone, his lips setting every nerve in my body on edge. He rubs my sex lightly, the sinful way he looks at me, making me squirm in my seat. Slipping his finger over my clit, he continues this torture over and over again. “Let go, baby, show me how good I make you feel,” he whispers, and I moan an orgasm, which he steals with a hungry kiss. When he breaks the kiss, I’m out of breath, shuddering. Kissing my lips softly, Aidan takes the finger that was just inside me and licks on it. I gasp.
“That is filthy,” I whisper.
“Oh, you have no idea.” He grins down at me. “We have to leave before I change my mind.”
“About this?” I feel a sinking disappointment.
