The Nanny

We don’t tell Sophie until the day of the party. It’s probably not the smartest thing either of us has ever done, dragging our feet like this, but I think Aiden has been as nervous about her reaction as I’ve been. She’s sitting in the armchair opposite the couch, her fingers steepled under her chin like a mob boss as she regards us thoughtfully.

“So . . . you’re like, boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Aiden and I share a look, and I shake my head. That one’s all him. “Yes,” he answers, clearing his throat. “We’re dating.”

Sophie looks from me to her dad to me again. “Why did you keep it a secret?”

“We weren’t trying to keep it a secret,” I urge. “We just—”

“Didn’t want to confuse you,” Aiden finishes.

Her little face is still as blank as an empty canvas. The way she is looking at us is almost enough to make me squirm; it feels like I’m telling my dad about my first boyfriend, which is hilarious since I know he wouldn’t have given a shit. Clearly, telling Sophie is a much more nerve-racking experience.

“I know what dating is,” Sophie says. “It’s like kissing and stuff.”

I notice Aiden looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. “And going out together,” he says, ignoring that comment. “Like tonight. I want to take Cassie to a party.”

“On a date,” Sophie clarifies.

“Yes,” he says. “On a date.”

Her eyes narrow, like she’s thinking. She looks like the damned Godfather. Like a four-foot-five crime lord. Or maybe I’m projecting.

“But Cassie is still my nanny. Right?”

“Of course I am,” I assure her. “None of that will change.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Do you have to kiss?”

“We can try to keep the kissing to a minimum,” Aiden counteroffers, even though I’m pretty sure he intends to keep doing it as much as possible out of Sophie’s line of sight. “If that makes you more comfortable.”

“It’s gross,” she says, making a blech sound.

This makes me laugh. “You won’t think that one day.”

“Yes, I will,” she argues.

Aiden snorts. “Forever, I hope.” He regards his daughter carefully then. “Are you . . . okay? With this? It’s very important to me that you’re okay with all of this, Soph.”

“Oh. It’s fine.” She shrugs. “But if you break up, I get to keep Cassie as my nanny.”

“I’m glad to know where I lie in the pyramid of your priorities,” Aiden mumbles.

I pat his shoulder, grinning. “Don’t you forget it.”

“Can I go play my Switch now? I almost beat the boss last time.”

“Yes, you can go,” Aiden tells her. “If you’re sure you’re okay.”

She moves to leave but turns back with a puzzled expression. “Wait. Where am I going tonight?”

“Oh,” I pipe up. “So. If you’re okay with it, Wanda asked if you wanted to hang out with her tonight.”

Her eyes light up. “Can I spend the night?”

“Sophie,” Aiden interjects. “I’m sure Wanda didn’t mean for you to—”

“I’ll ask her,” I cut in, knowing Wanda won’t care. I turn to Aiden. “She’d probably love it, honestly. As long as you’re okay with it.”

He frowns. “If you’re sure it wouldn’t put her out.”

“Wanda will be the first to let me know if so,” I laugh.

I shoo Sophie upstairs, waiting until she’s gone to lean my head on Aiden’s shoulder, grinning up at him. “That was relatively painless.”

“Am I the only one who felt like I was in an interview?”

“Oh, no, she definitely had a Don Corleone–vibe going on.”

He’s still frowning at the stairs where she disappeared. “It’s good that we told her, right? I hate lying to her, anyway.”

“I think it’ll be fine,” I assure him. “Sophie’s a smart kid. She’d have caught on eventually.”

“You’re probably right.”

I reach to trace a finger down his jaw. “Especially since I don’t see the whole ‘kisses to a minimum’ thing working out very well.”

He scoffs. “Are you implying that I can’t keep my hands to myself?”

I don’t answer, instead looking down and tapping the back of his hand that rests on my knee where his fingers have been unconsciously tracing a circle for the last ten minutes.

Aiden rolls his eyes. “Okay, fine.”

“So, I hope you made sure my corsage matches my dress. I expect fanfare tonight.”

“Fanfare,” he echoes, shaking his head as he laughs. “Well, I didn’t get you a corsage, but I did get you a dress.”

I push away to raise an eyebrow at him. “How did you know my size?”

“I . . . might have looked in your closet,” he says sheepishly.

I clap my hand over my mouth in a dramatic faux gasp. “Oh my God, next thing you know you’ll be rifling through my underwear drawer.”

“I prefer your underwear on the floor more than I do in your drawer.”

I bite back a smile, turning my face down at my lap so he can’t see my blush. I trace a circle of my own on the back of his hand that still rests on my knee. “So . . . I’m curious about this dress. What kind of dress would Aiden Reid buy me?”

“Something with a questionable neckline.”

I shake my head admonishingly. “Pervert.”

“Maybe,” he chuckles.

He leans in then as if to kiss me, but I reach between us to cover his mouth with my hand. “Hey, now. Kisses to a minimum.”

I squeal when he licks my palm, snatching it away as his hand darts out to grab my wrist so he can tug me closer. He keeps ahold of me while he covers my mouth with his, my teasing protests no match for the softness of his lips. He hums contentedly as he lingers for a moment, only pulling away when I’ve completely melted into it.

“That’ll have to do until later,” he murmurs.

It only hits me at this exact moment that later means an entire house to ourselves after our first official date, for the first time since I’ve been here, and seeing the way Aiden is looking at me—I have to assume he’s thinking about that fact as well. It takes all I have to keep my voice even when I speak again.

“So,” I say in a totally normal way that doesn’t betray the fact that I’m thinking about future uninhibited sex. “Let’s see this dress.”

Stop fidgeting,” I laugh as we stand outside Wanda’s door.

Aiden adjusts his tie (I could probably write an entire essay on why Aiden should wear a tie every day, because holy shit), making that same nervous face that makes me want to giggle every time I look at him. “Why does it feel like I’m meeting your parents?”

“Well, Wanda is closer to that than my actual parents, so. It’s not too far off.”

“Right. Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Bad word, Dad,” Sophie chides from beside us.

“I know,” he apologizes. “Sorry.”

Sophie leans to look at her dad from my side. “Is Dad scared of Wanda?”

“I am not scared of Wanda,” he argues.

I nudge Sophie with my elbow. “He’s totally scared of Wanda.”

“I am not scared of—”

Aiden falls silent when the door finally opens, Wanda pulling open the door in her house shoes and her robe and her pink flannel pajamas. Basically the polar opposite of intimidating. Doesn’t keep Aiden from standing as stiff as a statue next to me. She smiles brightly at Sophie, who immediately rushes her in a hug, and Wanda leans into it as she pats the little girl’s head. Seeing the way Wanda lights up with Sophie makes me feel all fuzzy inside.

Wanda gives Sophie a serious look. “You ready to get whooped in gin rummy tonight?”

“No! I’m going to win this time. I’ve been practicing.”

Wanda looks unconvinced, shooting her a look. “She’s got a long way to go before I start dragging her to the casino with me.”

Aiden is still completely mute beside me during all of this, and Wanda doesn’t acknowledge him at first. Not until she directs Sophie into the house to go find her deck of cards. Sophie gives us a rushed goodbye, but I can tell she has higher priorities than us now.

Wanda’s face loses its kindly warmth when she finally turns back to Aiden, her hands moving to her hips as she looks him up and down. “You Aiden?”

He nods stiffly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“None of that ma’am stuff. Wanda’s fine.”

“Right. Wanda. Sorry.”

Wanda purses her lips as she taps her foot. “You got a hell of a kid in there,” she tells him.

“Thank you,” Aiden answers. “She speaks highly of you. We appreciate you watching her tonight.”

“Well, since you snatched this one”—she hitches a thumb in my direction—“I could use the company.”

Aiden looks like he wants to melt into the floor, and I have to force myself not to laugh. “Sorry about that,” he offers. “I, ah, didn’t mean to snatch her away.”

Wanda looks my way then, whistling. “Look at you,” she praises. “That dress makes your ass look like a million bucks.”

I tuck my chin, batting my eyelashes at her as I turn to give her my side profile. “Doesn’t it? Aiden picked it out.”

“Oh?” She peeks over at Aiden, looking amused. “Did he?”

I smooth my hands over the silky black material that hugs me like a glove, patting the roundness of my hips as I nod. “He did good.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t thinking about your ass at all when he bought it,” she teases.

I turn again to peek back at the ass in question. “Pretty sure this doesn’t happen by accident.”

When I sneak a glance in Aiden’s direction, I notice the tips of his ears are red, and I decide to cut the teasing short. He might never take me out again if he thinks this is what he has to look forward to. I try to tell Wanda with my eyes to cut it out, but it doesn’t work in the slightest.

“So, Aiden.” She leans in to lower her voice. “You aren’t still looking at those booby cams, are you?”

“Wanda,” I admonish. “Oh my God.”

Aiden looks about three seconds from short-circuiting, and I can feel my neck getting hot with mortification. He is absolutely never going to ask me out again. Wanda finally smiles as I start silently begging for death, squawking out a laugh as she pats Aiden on the chest.

“I’m pulling your leg, boy,” she cackles. “You be good to my girl, all right?”

Aiden nods mechanically. “Yes. Of course.”

“She tell you I got a fake hip? If you break her heart, I’ll—”

“Okay,” I cut in. “We’d better get going. You have our numbers, so, if you need anything at all . . .”

Wanda is still laughing, and I shoot her a look that says I will be tearing her a new hide later. “You kids go have fun,” she says, shooing us off. “I got the little terror handled.”

“Seriously,” Aiden urges. “Call us if you need anything at all.”

“Don’t worry,” Wanda says with a smile. “I got this, Dad.”

She gives us a wave as she closes the door, hollering something about shuffling the cards before the door closes behind her. Aiden doesn’t immediately move to leave, still looking dazed when his eyes find mine. “I can’t tell if she hates me or not.”

“Oh,” I laugh. “She loves you.”

He bobs his head. “Well, okay then.”

“Come on,” I tell him, reaching for the red silk of his tie and letting it slide through my fingers. “Let’s go get your money’s worth on this dress.”

Aiden’s workplace looks different when it isn’t full of chattering customers and packed tables. The owner has closed most of the restaurant down save for the main dining area, where they’ve set up groups of tables for the staff. I notice the hostess who is always giving me looks (Aiden has informed me that her name is Laura and that it’s just her face) at a nearby table with one of the bartenders, and she gives me a nod when our eyes meet. Maybe even a smile. I can’t tell.

Maybe it really is just her face.

The lighting is the usual muted glow that feels romantic, and when Aiden guides me across the space and helps me into one of the fancy chairs that I haven’t sat in since our weird first meeting—it fully hits me that this is a date. It makes my heart beat faster while I settle into my chair, Aiden taking the one opposite me and giving me a warm smile when he catches me staring.

“What?”

“It’s funny,” I tell him.

“What is?”

“The last time we were here like this, I almost spit on you.”

“It was very cute,” he tells me.

“Really?”

“How creepy does it make me seem if I tell you it made me think about your mouth for the rest of the night?”

“Incredibly creepy,” I deadpan. “Straight to jail.”

His smile widens. “I’ll be sure not to tell you any of the other creepy thoughts I’ve had about you since you moved in then.”

“Oh, no way,” I protest. “I want to know everything. I already know you’re a pervert, anyway.”

“But how creepy does it sound if I say I only want to be a pervert with you?”

I blow out a breath, reaching for the little purse I’ve brought as if going for my phone. “Wow. Yeah. I’m calling the police.” Aiden laughs, and I drop the act as I grin back at him. “It’s fine. I spent most of that first night thinking about your hands, so we’re even.”

“My hands?” He looks down at his fingers with a furrowed brow. “What about them?”

“They’re very big.”

“So?”

“You know what they say about guys with big hands.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Wow. Now who’s the pervert?”

“I guess we’re made for each other,” I say with a cluck of my tongue.

His expression softens. “Yeah.”

I notice someone approaching our table then, a middle-aged man who can’t be any older than fifty, judging by his thinning gray hair. He waves when he catches Aiden’s eye as he nears. He’s dressed in a black suit and matching tie, more snazzy looking than the other partygoers, and I have to assume this is Aiden’s boss. “Aiden! So glad you came. I was sure that you were going to give me the old ‘parties aren’t my thing’ line again this year.”

“Ah, well.” I notice Aiden flushing. “I thought it would be nice to come out for once.”

The man turns his smile on me then, his teeth just visible beneath his thick, graying mustache. “And your lovely date would have nothing to do with that at all, I’m sure.” He extends his hand. “Joseph Cohen, dear. I own this old place.”

“It’s beautiful,” I tell him. “I’m Cassie.”

“Cassie,” he echoes. “How did such an ugly guy land a looker like you?”

I can tell he’s joking, noticing the way Aiden rolls his eyes from behind Joseph, and I shrug as I throw up my hands in mock disbelief. “He wore me down. I’m talking poems-outside-my-window level of wooing.”

“I have no doubt,” Joseph laughs. He points a finger at Aiden. “I like this one.” Then to both of us: “You both have fun tonight, yeah? Have some wine. Dance a little. It’s my birthday, so I insist.”

“I would hate to offend you by not taking free wine,” I say seriously.

Joseph chuffs out another laugh. “Exactly.” He pats the edge of our table. “I have to make the rounds. Everyone loves a visit from their boss on their off night, right?”

I wait till he’s out of earshot before I lean across the table. “Okay. Is that an act, or is your boss cool?”

“No,” Aiden chuckles. “He’s great. He went out on a limb for me when he gave me this job. I had been a sous-chef at a three star for a couple of years after I got out of school, and I wasn’t getting any bites on any of the other places I was applying. Joe walked in one day on a whim, and he liked the food so much that he asked to meet whoever made it. He insisted I come by for an interview, and well, the rest is history.”

“He sounds great,” I tell him. “Definitely better to like your boss than work for an asshole.”

Aiden’s mouth twitches. “And you know this from personal experience?”

“Oh, absolutely. My boss is a real hard-ass. Very demanding.”

Aiden laces his fingers as he leans in closer. “I’d be happy to be more demanding, if you want.”

Warmth pools in my belly, and I have to remind myself we still have drinks, dinner, and dancing to get through before he can take this dress off me. Not that Aiden seems to have any intention of making the wait easy. I try to look unaffected even though I’m pressing my thighs together now, nodding my head toward the open bar.

“I think you’d better buy me a drink first.”

The rest of the night seems to pass by in a blur; dinner is some amazing beef dish that I can’t pronounce but melts in my mouth, and after the main course, they bring out a blackberry sorbet that makes me want to live inside their freezer. If we weren’t in a five-star restaurant, I’d have probably licked the bowl clean. Joseph comes and sits with us for a while between courses, telling stories about Aiden and the restaurant and all sorts of fun anecdotes in between. At some point a woman starts crooning softly from the overhead speakers, some French song I can’t understand, and I watch as people start moving from their tables to find the open floor in the middle of the room.

Now, I’m a twenty-five-year-old woman who has dated and dined and danced on more than one occasion before this, but when Aiden rises from his chair to offer me his hand and quietly asks me to dance—I feel downright giddy. Almost like it’s the first time.

He guides me out onto the floor and pulls me close, and his wide palms settling at my hips are a warm, pleasant weight through the silk of my dress. I wind my arms around his neck and grin up at him shyly as he starts to move me to the music; there’s nothing inherently complicated about the way he does it, just a shuffling of our feet in a slow back-and-forth, but I feel fluttery all the same.

“As far as first dates go,” I tell him, “this one has set the bar pretty high.”

I feel his thumb slide against my hip. “That’s good to know. It’s been a long time since I had a first date.”

“Me too,” I admit. And then a little quieter: “Over a year.”

His smile is faint and barely there, but I can just make it out. “Me too.”

“Sometimes none of this feels real,” I admit. “I keep expecting to wake up on Wanda’s couch.”

“How do you think I feel? I have to convince myself every day that someone like you would want to hang around.”

“Um. Pump the brakes there, Mr. Reid. Let’s not pretend that you aren’t a six-foot-something temptation station with sex eyes.”

“Sex eyes?”

“Oh, come on. They’re so pretty it isn’t even fair.”

I feel his hand slide minutely up my side to press at my waist only to drift back down as if only to feel the shape of me. It makes my stomach flip. “I think yours are nicer.”

“You, my friend, are crazy.”

His laugh is so low I might almost miss it over the music, but then he leans in so that I can feel the warmth of his breath at my ear, making me shiver. “You make me feel crazy, Cassie.”

I close my eyes when I feel the soft press of his lips at my jaw, my knees giving a ridiculous wobble that I thought was only a thing in movies.

We’ve been at this party for more than an hour, closer to two, really, and suddenly all I’m thinking about is getting out of this classy place and going back to Aiden’s to do far less classy things. The things I’m wanting to do might even be called downright rude, to some.

I have to press up on my toes to get close to his ear, dropping my voice to a whisper. “How much longer do you have to stay?”

I feel him tense when my fingernail teases the collar of his shirt on the back of his neck.

“As long as you want,” he murmurs back, pulling me closer against him.

“I think I’m ready to leave, Mr. Reid.”

He makes a sound low in his throat that puts my knees in danger again, squeezing my hip for good measure. “Then let’s get you home.”

Home.

Weirdly, the word makes me shiver.

I’m incredibly grateful that we don’t have to wait for the check.

I have no idea how we make it in the house, let alone up two flights of stairs to Aiden’s bedroom. I don’t have time to let it marinate that this is the first time I’ve been in Aiden’s room, since we’ve never been brave enough to sneak up here with Sophie normally down the hall. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’m aware of the general color scheme of Aiden’s room; it’s the same black and gray throughout every other facet of the house, but it’s a very distant thought. I don’t exactly have time to tease him about it right now. Not with the way he’s holding my face, tongue laving against mine while I fumble with the buttons of his shirt.

He’s already torn down the clip holding up my hair, fingers tangling in the thick mass as his palm slides up my thigh to ruck up my dress. He groans when I get his shirt open, my hands running over his chest and shoulders to tug at his head, trying to somehow deepen the kiss. Everything about tonight feels somehow more than any other time we’ve been together; some heady combination of the date and coming clean to Sophie making all of this feel more real somehow.

I don’t come back down from my kiss-related high until I feel him undoing the zipper at the back of my dress; I’ve already managed to work his shirt and tie off and undone the fly of his pants when I come to my senses.

“Wait, wait.”

Aiden’s eyes are wild when he pulls away from me. “Wait?”

“The dress,” I huff. “I need to hang it up.”

“Fuck the dress,” he growls, trying to kiss me again.

“It’s the nicest dress I own now! It’ll get all wrinkled on the floor.”

“I will buy you another dress,” he argues.

This makes me laugh, the neediness in his voice doing all sorts of things for my ego.

“Get on the bed, Mr. Reid. I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, no. You’re not going all the way back downstairs,” he snorts. He nods his head toward a door nearby. “Hang it in my closet.”

I leave a quick peck at his mouth, his frustrated expression like that of a toddler having a tantrum—the tented front of his pants saying otherwise. I cross to the closet hastily, pulling open the doors and flipping on the light in search of a hanger.

“Jesus,” I mutter.

Aiden’s closet is as big as my bathroom downstairs. I notice empty hangers near the back beyond a sea of black shirts and gray sweats and dark denim, stepping further inside to grab for one as I start to shimmy out of my dress. I’m unclasping my bra for good measure to save Aiden the trouble when I spot something interesting, pausing for a good second as an idea pops up in my head. I bite my lip as I consider.

Would it be silly or sexy? I wonder.

“If you don’t get out here,” Aiden calls impatiently. “I’m going to come fuck you in the closet.”

Ah, what the hell.

I grab the garment that caught my attention from a hanger before I can change my mind, putting my arms through the sleeves. His chef coat is entirely too big for me, the hem hitting midthigh and the sleeves nearly covering both my hands, but when I turn to the floor-length mirror on the back wall of his closet, I have to admit that the overall effect—gapped fabric that hints at my breasts and leaves the black lace of my underwear (I bought non-printed for tonight, thank you very much) on complete display— isn’t half bad.

I try for my best Jessica Rabbit impression when I step out of the closet, backlit by the light inside as I slide one arm up the side of the door to lean against it. Aiden sits up in bed when he sees me; he’s shucked off everything except his underwear, and his eyes go wide as they rake down the entire length of me.

“On today’s edition of Who Wore It Best . . .” I say with a nervous laugh.

Aiden isn’t laughing. In fact, he looks downright tense. “No contest,” he says tightly. And then with a crook of his finger: “Come here.”

I manage to cross the room without tripping or doing anything else that might break the sexy vibe I’m going for, crawling up the bed to meet him at the headboard where he’s resting against (of course) black pillows. He pulls me over his lap so that my core rests directly against the length of him that strains against his underwear; the heat making everything between my legs tingle. Aiden’s eyes follow the movement of his hand when he lets his palm rest flat over my belly, watching as he slides it higher between my breasts to push open the front of his coat so that my chest is left bare.

“How are you so fucking perfect?”

I arch my body so that my nipples graze his chest, both of us shuddering as I turn my face to press a line of soft kisses at his jaw. “How are you not touching me yet?”

“I’m trying to decide how I want to touch you first.” His hand slides over my hip to dip inside my underwear so he can palm my ass. “With my hands?” He ducks his head so that his tongue can circle my nipple, drawing a quiet gasp from me. “My mouth?” His hand at my ass pulls me closer against him, close enough so that he can roll his hips to let his cock rub between my legs. “Something else?”

Words are hard right now, but I manage a breathy, “Is there an all-three option?”

“There is always an all-three option,” he chuckles dryly.

His fingers find a nipple to tease it, rolling it languidly as his mouth meets mine. His kiss is quiet, even lazy—a sharp contrast to the needy urgency from earlier. Almost like he’s taking his time. Drawing it out, maybe. I’m torn between urging him to hurry up and relishing the sensation.

He nibbles softly at my lower lip, kissing the corner of my mouth after. “I watched you for so long.” Another slow, lingering kiss. “I was obsessed, Cassie.”

“I stopped doing private shows at the end,” I confess. “It was only yours.”

His cock twitches between my legs. He likes that. “You were so fucking stunning. Doing everything I told you to do.”

“I liked it,” I whisper.

He pulls away to look at me with dark eyes. “Would you like it right now?”

“What?”

“I always imagined what you looked like—what you really looked like—when you came. Doing what I told you. Can you show me?”

My stomach flutters with nerves and excitement, and I bite my lip as I consider. The eagerness in his expression makes the idea that much more appealing, and it only takes me a second to come to a decision, leaning to kiss him deeply.

“And what kind of show would you like tonight, A?”

His breath is ragged when it puffs against my mouth. “I’ve thought about that for a few days, actually.”

“Mm. Have you.”

His hand fumbles with the nightstand by the bed, popping open the drawer and digging inside until he brings out a long, silk pouch. “I got you a present.”

“A present?”

He hands me the pouch, watching eagerly as I loosen the drawstring to reach inside. My fingers meet soft, velvety silicone that is all too familiar, and heat drips down into my belly and deeper as I pull out a bright pink vibrator that looks . . . very realistic.

“You shouldn’t have,” I murmur.

I scoot back until I’m straddling his legs, putting enough room between us so that he can see everything. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, but with Aiden watching, it feels easier to slip back into it.

I press the tip of the vibrator between my breasts, letting it trail down my belly. “I’m glad you’re back,” I say sweetly. “I missed you.”

The effect it has on Aiden is immediate. His breath comes harder, and his nostrils flare as his entire body tenses. “You make it hard to stay away.”

“Oh?” I circle the tip of the vibe around my navel, making sure to keep eye contact. “Is that all I make hard?”

“I like your outfit,” he rasps.

I smile down at one shoulder of his jacket, reaching with my free hand to push it slightly off-kilter. “This? It’s my boyfriend’s.”

“Is it.”

“He’d be mad if he knew I was wearing it for you.”

I notice Aiden’s fists clenching at his sides as I start to tease the vibe closer to the waistband of my underwear, and I wonder how long he can actually keep up with the game. “We’d better not tell him then.”

“You haven’t told me what you want, A,” I simper. “You know I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Really?” His chest rises and falls roughly. “What if I want you to tease that pretty little pussy with that toy there?”

“Oh, this?” I slide it higher, making a lazy path up and over my sternum until I can bring it to my mouth to lick the tip. “I don’t know. Do you think I can take it?”

“You’d better,” he grinds out. “You’ll need to get nice and soft if you’re going to take me later.”

My breath hitches. “Am I going to do that? Are you going to give me your cock later, A?”

“Would you like that, Cici? Would you like me to split you open on my cock?”

“Mm.” I don’t stop as I trail the toy lower this time, letting it slip past my underwear to slide the thicker head through my folds, getting it wet. “That sounds so much better than this silly toy.”

“Later,” he promises, and I cannot describe how elated it makes me to know that this time, there will be a later. “Take off those panties so I can see how wet you are.”

It takes maneuvering to get my underwear off in this position, but I manage to work them down my legs enough to drop them on the other side of the bed before I return to a straddle. I know he can see everything now, especially with the light from the closet still casting a glow inside the room, and it’s made more obvious by the way his eyes home in on the toy that I’m still teasing through the wet mess between my legs.

I cock my head. “Like this?”

“Just like that,” he says roughly. “A little slower, maybe.”

I make slow, exaggerated movements, keeping my legs spread as wide as I can manage so that he doesn’t miss anything. The motion of my hand is causing his jacket to slip from one shoulder, practically falling off me now.

“Touch your nipples for me,” Aiden murmurs. “Tease them.”

I close my eyes as I do what he asks, feeling strangely powerful from the raw need in his voice. Like it’s taking every bit of restraint he possesses not to reach out and touch me. How had I never recognized it before?

“Can you put it inside? Let me see how you fuck yourself.”

I suck in a breath as I nudge the head of the toy against my entrance; it slips in easily with how wet I am—not to mention how much smaller it is than Aiden. I don’t even know how I could ever go back to this after him. I start to thrust it in and out of me slowly, slick, wet sounds ringing out in the air as I continue to use my other hand to pinch my nipple.

“I bet your cock would be so much nicer than this toy,” I muse coyly. “I wonder if I could even take all of you?”

“You could take everything,” he rasps. “I’d keep you on my cock for days if I could, Cici.”

“That sounds nice,” I answer airily. I push the toy deeper. “But for now . . . I can pretend this toy is you, if you want.”

“Then you’re going to need to fuck yourself harder than that, Cici. Because that’s what I’d be doing. I’d be fucking you until you were screaming for it.”

It’s getting increasingly hard to keep up with the game, especially since I know how much better it will be when he actually touches me.

“Can I turn the vibration on, A? I need a little more,” I pout.

“I don’t know,” he says carefully. “Do you think you’ve been good enough for that?”

“I’ve been so good,” I breathe. “Please, A?”

“Turn it on,” he grates. “Get that pretty pussy good and ready for me.”

I flip on the vibe, ticking it up a few settings until there is a steady, humming vibration deep inside me that makes me gasp. “Oh.”

“Does it feel good, Cici?”

I nod, my eyes drifting closed as I focus on the way the toy moves in and out of me. “Mm-hmm.”

“You think it feels better than I would?”

I shake my head. “You would feel so much better.”

“Because you’d prefer it, wouldn’t you. Being stuffed full of me.”

“Yes,” I sigh.

“Tell me how badly you want my cock, Cici.”

“I w—ah.” I hit that place inside that makes me shudder, and my wrist starts to ache slightly as I try to keep up my pace. “I wish it was you. I wish I was full of you instead of this toy. I need it, A.”

“Yeah? Can you beg me for it? Beg me for my cock, Cassie.”

My eyes peek open, noticing how utterly wrecked Aiden looks. His chest is flushed red, and there are slight veins bulging in his arms from the way he’s clenching his fists so hard. His mouth is slack and his eyes are heavy, and I decide to forgive his slipup, trying to focus again on the play.

“Please, A,” I whisper, thrusting the toy inside just a little harder. “Please give me your cock.”

“I don’t believe you. Are you sure you want it?”

My mouth falls open as I hit that place again, trembling all over as an orgasm begins to build. “I think about it all the time. How nice you’d fill me up.” My head lolls back as my thighs shake, so close I can almost taste it. “I bet you’d—” My breath catches, my hands shaking. “I bet you could—”

I tense up when it hits me, not as all consuming as the one I know Aiden can give me but enough to leave a thin sheen of sweat across my body, to leave me a gasping mess. When I can finally open my eyes again, I can see that Aiden is looking at me like I’m some sort of mythical thing, his expression full of wonder and awe and a little of something else that makes my chest hurt.

“Fuck, Cassie. How are you so—”

“Cassie?” I smile at him even as I’m struggling to catch my breath. “Who’s that? You know my name is Cici.”

“Cici,” he says tightly.

“Do you wish you could touch me, A?” I slip the toy out from inside, turning off the vibration but bringing the head to my belly to smear some of my fluids there. “I wish you could touch me.”

His jaw tenses. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Oh? What’s the matter? I thought you liked to watch me?”

He surprises me by pushing away from the pillows, crawling over to meet me until he can urge me to my back. He braces his hands on either side of my head while I’m sprawled beneath him.

“Aiden?”

“I changed my mind,” he tells me seriously, his eyes on mine. “I want Cassie.” He plucks the sleeve from my arm to slide it further down. “Just Cassie.” My heart starts to beat a heavy cadence in my chest as he urges me out of his jacket, tossing it away. “And I don’t want to watch anymore.”

I can hardly breathe when he lowers against me, easing me into a kiss that makes my toes curl. His tongue slips inside my mouth to lick against mine, and I close my eyes as my skin tingles and my stomach flutters. I feel his hand move to my hip to squeeze there, wandering after—up my ribs and under my breasts and back down again over my belly until he can dip between my legs.

“You’re so wet,” he marvels.

I let my fingers graze against his hips, pulling him closer. “Because of you.”

“Fuck.”

That urgency is back when he kisses me, but the rest of his body goes slow. He holds my hip to keep me pinned beneath him, rocking against me so that I can feel the heat of his cock against my center. The thin fabric of his boxer briefs feels like entirely too much, and I start to tug at them impatiently, needing to feel all of him. He manages to get his underwear off with less difficulty than I did, and in only a matter of seconds he’s completely bare against me.

I sigh into his mouth when I can feel him against my core, continuing that slow rutting that has the head of his cock bumping against the most sensitive part of me with every stroke.

“Aiden,” I whisper between kisses. “Aiden, can you—”

And like he can read my mind, I feel the nudge of him against my entrance, notching against me before slowly pushing inside. He never stops kissing me while he gives me inch after inch, filling me in a lazy, torturous way so that it feels like forever until I’m full. It’s so much different from the toy, so much better, and again I wonder how I could ever be fully satisfied with anything other than this now that I’ve had it. I hope I never have to find out.

His body against mine is a warm, satisfying weight, and his lips, which have begun to wander again, elicit little sparks against my skin wherever they touch. He doesn’t move inside me while his mouth presses against my cheek, my jaw, down to my neck— and after a moment of this torment, I start to squirm with impatience.

“Be still,” he says, not a demand but a plea. “Let me feel you.”

I go still as he lets out a ragged breath against my throat, kissing there gently after as his hand slides down my thigh. His hand curves around the back of my knee to urge it upward, pushing it high to open me up more as he pulls up his head to look at me. His throat bobs with a swallow as he looks at me through hooded eyes, holding my knee against my chest and smiling dreamily before he kisses me again.

And then he starts to move.

He draws back his hips to push back inside at that same slow pace, his lips and tongue keeping me too distracted to even complain about the slow rhythm. Not that I want to. Every slide inside brings a delicious friction, every inch of him touching every part of me. I’m still sensitive from the orgasm I just gave myself, and it means that every sense is heightened, every touch feels like so much more.

I feel his arm snake under my back, pulling me against him and pinning my knee against his chest. He falls to his elbow on my other side, his mouth never leaving mine. We’re so close that I can feel the base of his cock rubbing against me with every thrust, a tingling pressure building between my legs as he rolls his hips against mine again and again.

My thigh starts to burn with the way he has it pushed up toward my stomach, but the angle means he hits impossibly deep with every thrust, the pleasure of it overriding any discomfort. His kisses are stuttered, like he’s having trouble keeping his focus, his head finally burying against my throat, groaning. I hold on to his shoulders as he picks up the pace, his breath washing hot against my neck.

“Aiden,” I gasp, feeling that tingling heat inside swell to the point of bursting. “Oh. Oh. I’m—”

“Are you gonna come?”

I try to nod. “Don’t stop.”

“Never.” His thrusts are erratic now. “Fuck. I never wanna stop.”

“Just—just keep—right there. I’m—”

It’s like a shower of fireworks bursting behind my eyes and all over my skin, lights and colors flashing in my vision as my entire body tenses with my orgasm. Aiden is still moving, his pants growing louder and rougher against my ear, and I slide my fingers over his shoulders, leaving dazed kisses wherever I can reach.

He also goes stiff when he tumbles over the edge, his big body shaking against mine and his cock twitching deep, deep inside before he goes slack against me. He’s heavy and entirely too large for this, but I like the weight of him. I keep pressing kisses against his jaw as he tries to catch his breath, shivering with every pass of my fingers against his skin.

He keeps me close until his breath is less shallow, inhaling deeply just to blow it out before he pulls out of me with a wince. He doesn’t go far, rolling slightly to the side so he can keep me close against him without crushing me with his weight, and watching as I bring my hands up to let them rest under my head. He looks spent like this; his head rests on one bicep, and the other is draped lazily over my hip, but his eyes are expressive and bright as they study my face.

I bring the tips of my fingers to his mouth, tracing its shape lightly. “Did you know that the most sensitive parts of your body are your fingertips and your lips?”

“Yeah?” He kisses my fingertips. “Seems pretty suggestive for a Snapple lid.”

His hand drifts up my side until he can wrap his fingers around my hand, turning it to press a kiss against my palm. There’s a ghost of a smile at his mouth when he looks up at me, like he’s keeping a secret he can’t share, and it feels infectious with the way it has me grinning shyly back at him.

“Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we’d met up back then?”

His mouth is still grazing my palm. “If we’d met up?”

“Mm-hmm. Like, what do you think would have happened?”

His laugh is nothing more than a quick rush of air through his nostrils, and he turns my hand again to brush his lips against my knuckles. “I think we’d be right here.”

Butterflies swarm in my stomach and up into my chest, and for a moment it feels like I might float away if Aiden’s hand wasn’t tethering me to his bed. It’s an entirely new feeling, but not one I dislike.

“This still feels like a dream,” I whisper. “I keep thinking I’ll wake up.”

Aiden smiles, and I don’t even have time to be fully twitterpated by it before he rolls, bringing himself half on top of me again. “That’s fine,” he says, eyes flicking to my mouth for a moment before he lowers to kiss me. It’s slow, and sweet, and everything he is, and I can feel my lashes fluttering dazedly when he pulls away. “I don’t plan on letting you sleep tonight, anyway.”

“Pervert,” I tease.

I can feel him growing stiff against my thigh when he kisses me again. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs against my mouth. “You’re going to wake up right here in my bed.”

The weight of that sentiment feels heavier than his body, and I let it wrap around me like a blanket as I melt back into him, letting him dizzy me with his kiss and his touch and everything else.