My body loses any sort of tension, sagging into Aiden’s arms, and he slides down the wall, cradling me in his lap on the floor. It takes us long, long minutes to get our breathing under control. And if he’s in the same boat as me, he’s trying to corral his heart, too. Though I’m not sure that’s an option. It seems to be an unbroken horse that has escaped from its pen.
“Stella…” His palm smooths the length of my hair, letting out an incredulous breath. “God, I knew it would be like that. I just didn’t know it would be like that.”
I nod against his chest, knowing exactly what he means.
We’re ruined.
He lays a kiss on my temple. “Come home with me after work tonight. Stay.”
Somehow I know going to Aiden’s home, being among his things and experiencing his routines with him is going to ruin me even worse than what we just did. Despite the niggling doubts in the back of my mind, all of them in myself and my ability to be this new person…I am powerless to do anything but nod. To do anything but hand him as much of my heart as I have available. “Yes. I’ll stay.”
14
Aiden
I guide Stella into my apartment by the hand. “Keep your eyes closed.”
“I promised I would,” she laughs, squeezing her lids tighter. “You’re not going to reveal a giant Beanie Baby collection or something, are you?”
“I’m saving that for the third date,” I call back to her while crossing the room, flipping the floor switch to turn on the Christmas tree lights, as well as the lit-up garland that runs the perimeter of my living room window. I’m probably going to lose all of the progress I’ve made in convincing her I’m nothing more than a huge cornball, but so be it. I want her to remember the first time she walked into my apartment. I’m sure as hell going to.
Just seeing her outlined in the common hallway light in her puffy jacket and boots, her bangs dusted with the snow that has started falling outside, is twisting me up in more directions than a funnel cake at the county fair. I’ve lived in this place for five years and other women have darkened my doorway in that time. Those others…they had my respect, but my heart was never involved. Not a single corner of it. Not like this.
I’ve never turned on my Christmas tree and matching garland for anyone, that’s for damn sure. Never wanted to see her hair spread across my pillow so badly, I ache. And here I am, already making a list of things I’ve only experienced with Stella to make myself feel better for every encounter I’ve ever had with another woman. That’s how bad I’ve got it. I’m guilty for everything I ever did before we met.
She’s lit up in a soft, white Christmas glow as I approach her again, sending my heart off clunking in my chest. When I stop in front of her and unzip her jacket, her eyes are still closed. Slowly, I pull the nylon off her shoulders, watching color infuse her cheeks, the pace of her breath increasing slightly. As if I’m undressing her completely, making her naked, instead of just removing her jacket. But that’s how I’ve felt all day, too. My lust is on a hair trigger ever since this afternoon, when we ruined each other for anyone or anything else in my filing room.
Here’s another thing for my growing list of firsts with Stella. I’ve never come so hard that my life flashes in front of my eyes. No sir. Not until her. I can still feel the hot clench of her pussy around me, the way she clung, the smooth friction of her inner thighs on my hips, the way she begs for more, more, more with her whole body. Truth be told, I’ve caught myself staring into space with a semi-erection around nine times since this afternoon.
Good lord, the sex.
I’m a changed man. Hell, I’m a grateful man.
In more ways than one. Just having Stella here, in my home, is more than enough. It’s something I spent the weekend thinking was never going to happen. Sleep was lost and an unhealthy amount of bourbon was consumed over it. That’ll teach me to doubt when it comes to this girl. She’s extraordinary. She’s got a hundred little cogs turning in her head right this very second—I can see them chugging away. By some miracle, she decided I’m right enough for her to claim officially, on paper, and now I just have to make sure she never regrets it.
It’ll be easy.
That lie is so hard to swallow, I have to tug on the front of my bow tie to get it down.
Being with Stella might be easy, but there is a perpetual tug in my subconscious telling me she’s not all in. Yet. She’s window shopping, while I’ve already bought out the whole damn store.
Patience.
My ribcage expands on a deep breath. “You can open your eyes.”
Watching her thick eyelashes blink open, I notice absently that she’s wearing less makeup than the first time we met. Less of that black liner under her eyes. When did she make the change? I probably should have—would have commented on it if I wasn’t too focused on the blue eyes themselves to notice how they’re made up. I like her either way…but God, I love her like this. Sucking in a breath over the haphazard Christmas lights, pleasure and nostalgia and joy washing across her features. Damn. I’ve done something right in my life if I get to watch this happen up close.
“Wow.” She exhales in a rush. “Your place. It’s even better than I was picturing. It’s…a vintage bachelor pad. Like Dom Draper if he had a soul.”
I laugh out loud at that description and she relaxes enough to set down her purse, toe off her boots and close the apartment door behind her, turning the lock.
“Consider me called out,” I say, taking her hand and tugging her deeper into the apartment. So help me God, watching the toes of her tights sink into my living room rug makes the fly of my dress pants feel tight. My voice is significantly deeper when I say, “I tend to gravitate toward the old-fashioned.”
“I noticed.” She glances over at me. “I’m kind of the furthest thing from old-fashioned, though. Did you take a detour and get lost?” Her tone is light, but her eyes are vulnerable. “That’s just like a man to drift off course and refuse to ask for directions.”
“I know right where I am, Stella.” I hold her attention as long as I can before it dances away, moving to the Christmas tree. Not only am I positive I’m going the right way, but I’ve thrown out the map altogether. How would she react if I told her that? Probably by running out the door—and I can’t even say I would blame her. We signed paperwork with HR so we could date, not get married. Slow your roll, Aiden. “When you’re ready to talk about where you are on the map, I’m here.”
Her chest rises and falls a little quicker, but she tries to pass off her nerves as arousal, flashing me a wobbly smile. “If your plan was to seduce me with cartography talk, it’s working.” She pushes her hair back, shifts her focus back to the tree. As always, Christmas seems to be her—our—safe place. “Your tree is beautiful, but not too beautiful. It’s got character, just like the way you did your office.”
The corner of my mouth tugs. I’m more than willing to let her get away with the subject change for now. If she wanted to do aerobics on the roof, I’d find a way to make it happen. “See any room for improvements?”