I do not approve,” Hilary muttered for the millionth time.
“This is a little crazy,” EmJay admitted.
Evy crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I’m a little worried, too.”
“Says the woman who married a soldier two months after she came and then moved in with him, too,” Tessa replied, rolling her eyes.
Aimie felt horrible for Ryan because it couldn’t be more obvious that only Tessa was really on their side any longer.
“I’m old enough to make my own decisions. Besides, I was sure I left my mom back home. Turns out, now I suddenly have three of them. I think me moving in with Ryan is the right thing to do,” she stated loud enough for all to hear.
“I agree. They can only fight their demons together if they live together,” a voice from behind them announced and Aimie saw Ryan’s shoulders sag in relief as Jazz appeared, followed by Tank.
“Man, got yourself a wife, too? And already allowing her to talk back to you?” Tank shook his head. “Tsk, I wouldn’t allow mine to do that,” he added.
“Watch it, handsome,” Evy threatened and then laughed as he drew her in and bit her neck.
“There, marked mine, and claimed. Now, let me talk to my friends, woman.” He planted a kiss on the top of Evy’s head and winked at Ryan.
Aimie wanted what they had.
Jazz stepped in and Tessa wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest as if she hadn’t seen him since months. He whispered something into her ear and she shook her head, then he chuckled and pushed her chin up. Aimie saw tears running down her friend’s face.
“Why in the world are you crying?” Jazz asked, full of disbelief.
“Because I’m back with you. I didn’t think the week would be as long as it was,” she replied honestly and he kissed her tears away before sighing.
“It was too long,” he agreed and then wrapped her in his arms again.
Aimie wanted what they had, too.
Ryan drew her in then, whispering, “Perfect timing to run. They are distracted.”
She chuckled and then turned into him, taking a deep breath. Somehow his scent was already familiar to her, his cologne and the unmistakable bitter tang of disinfectant. She wasn’t the least bit surprised with him being a doctor, but still it was somehow uniquely him and didn’t bother her at all.
“We’re not running, Ryan. We’re not doing anything wrong. Running would imply we think we need to hide. And we don’t,” she told him sternly.
His lips parted, then a grin broke out of his face. “Yes, exactly that. I just wasn’t sure you were still on board.”
Watching the other happy couples made her feel more on board than ever.
“Seems they are all in one piece. I guess you did a good job, Doc,” Tank stated once he was done welcoming Evy home.
“Where are the kids?” Hilary asked and Tank glanced at Jazz before wiggling his brows at Hilary.
“At Jazz’s mom’s because I’m hoping to get my wife naked and under me very soon,” he announced, making a blush creep up Evy’s cheeks. Aimie chuckled, especially when Evy playfully slapped her husband, but then looked up at him adoringly, making it obvious Tank might get lucky.
“And John’s running a slight fever because he’s teething again, so I didn’t want to take him,” Jazz explained.
“Well, I need to see my son, so let’s go.”
“Did you guys come together to pick us up?” Hilary asked and Jazz shook his head.
“You and Emma are coming with us. Tank will drop off Aimie and Ryan,” Jazz explained.
“Okay.”
Aimie went over and hugged the girls she wouldn’t see again that day and smiled as Hilary told her a million and one things to remember, starting and ending with calling her whenever she needed her. Aimie appreciated it, but she was looking forward to being alone with Ryan, in a place he felt more secure. She couldn’t wait to see his bachelor pad and everything else about him.
Jazz drew her away before she got a chance to hug him, too. There was worry in his eyes, yet when he spoke it absolutely wasn’t what Aimie had expected him to say.
“Ryan admitted to having PTSD-related nightmares sometimes. I’d suggest you talk to Tessa about how she deals with them, but what I basically wanted right now was to tell you that he will push you away. He’ll get angry. He might tell you to leave him alone, but…don’t. There’s nothing worse than waking from pure fear and horror to find yourself alone. Hold his hand. Kiss his shoulder. Be there. Be kind. Be you.”
Aimie sought out Ryan who was talking to Tessa, and watched his profile for a moment.
“You know, I wondered about that, to be honest. I just didn’t know how to ask him.”
“Straight out. He’s a good guy. I know Tessa loves him to pieces because he was always there, and he made sure I wouldn’t give up when Tessa couldn’t. We owe him. Besides, he got lucky with you as his wife. You’re incredibly good for the guy.”
He surprised her by leaning in and kissing her forehead. “Now go and be a wife. I cannot believe the two idiots over there got hitched before I did.”
She laughed and then winked. “At least you’re doing it the right away,” she joked and he nodded.
“The only way. She deserves a big wedding. It’ll be her only one because then she’s mine.”
Aimie didn’t say it, but even though she didn’t remember her wedding, she planned for it to be her only one, too.
* * *
Unlocking the front door of his spacious apartment, Ryan wondered how Aimie would like it. He was more than aware of the fact that it was rather spartan. Black leather couches, glass and metal tables and dressers, clear lines and no fluff. Suddenly he longed for fluff, for homey, just so Aimie would feel better.
“This is it. Welcome home, Mrs. Spencer,” he muttered and she gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand. Just when she was about to step in, he swept her up in his arms to carry her across the doorstep.
“Husband’s duty,” he explained and she laughed, snuggling into him before drawing his face in for a long kiss. Damn, he almost didn’t want to put her down again. He wanted more. So much more.
“Good to be home,” she replied afterward, her voice quiet. He knew it wasn’t her home—yet—and she knew it, too. Still, hearing her say that?
He couldn’t even say what that made him feel.
Keeping her close, he lowered her onto the cold leather couch, wishing it didn’t feel cool under his skin, but thankfully Aimie didn’t mind.
Ryan even guessed it was the contrary as she reached around his neck again and drew him back down, parting her lips for him when she wanted to take their kiss to the next level.
Jesus, he needed to stop or she’d feel how much exactly he wanted her—had wanted her from the beginning.
Breaking the dance of their tongues he pulled back, breathing erratically.
“I need to get the luggage from the hall,” he whispered and then pulled away.
Pausing briefly before reaching for their bags, he wished his obvious erection would go away.
“We could—” he started, but she didn’t even let him finish.
“Ryan, come here for a second.”
He followed her call, didn’t mind being close to her, and minded even less when she pulled him onto the couch next to her. “You know,” she started, “you’re mine now. And I think there are some duties you didn’t fulfill yet…”
She crawled into his lap and then kissed him again, her hands in his hair. She was tugging at him as if she had a plan, and by God, he wished they were on the same page.
“Aimie… Aims,” he whisper-pleaded, hoping to slow her down.
“Say no, and we won’t be doing anything right now,” she replied and he pulled back enough to meet her eyes. Was she saying what he thought she was saying?
“Are you even… I mean… what are you saying?”
She didn’t answer, and instead reached under his shirt, pulling it over his head, eying his chest appreciatively, then she let her hands roam and he shivered.
When she ran her nail across his nipple, he knew she had been talking about what was on his mind—and she was sure about it.
Now Ryan wished even more that he’d bought a soft sofa back then.
Claiming her lips in a heated kiss, he slipped his hands under her shirt, feeling his heart skip a beat as he brushed her bra.
“Jesus, I’ve wanted to climb you like a tree since you nearly kissed me at that bar,” she groaned against his skin and he couldn’t help the laugh escaping his lips.
“You did?”
He caught her face between his palms, wanting her to look at him, and her blue-green eyes were swimming with sincerity.
“Yes. God, Ryan, how could I possibly not feel that way? Have you checked a mirror lately?” She nipped at his jaw, driving him crazy. “I’m nervous though. Tell me if I suck, or you don’t want anymore, or—”
He didn’t let her finish, glad that he did have a fluffy carpet. Without hesitation he pulled off her shirt and then pressed her back into the plush floor.
“Been dying to get my hands on you,” he panted against her skin, telling himself to go slow no matter how much he wanted to just be in her, hold her close and know she was all his—and only his.
He kissed his way to the cups of her bra, pulling them down enough to close his teeth gently around one pebbled nipple, and she arched into him, her hand cupping the back of his head.
She smelled of lilies and sugar, tempting and sweet, and he couldn’t get enough of her.
“God, Ryan,” she breathed, her voice barely there, her eyes closed.
Bed.
They should be relocating because, hell, this was not the way to sleep with your girl the first time.
“Let’s move,” he muttered, pulling back.
“Let’s stay,” she replied, drawing him back in.
He shook his head. “You deserve so much more.”
Her smile when she answered was genuine. “I’m getting you. Let’s just stay right here. We’re unconventional anyway,” she explained and he rested his forehead against her stomach, sighing in defeat. She was going to drive him crazy without even trying.
Kissing his way down from where he was, he opened her jeans and pulled them down, smirking as he realized she was wearing matching underwear.
“What’s there to smirk about, mister?” she asked and he grinned.
“Just…you know, if the underwear matches, it wasn’t the guy who decided there’ll be sex,” he stated and she laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“I was wearing matching underwear the last two days, but then couldn’t get myself to go through with it because the girls would’ve known and I didn’t want to do a walk of shame.”
He ran his fingertips along the small pieces of clothing she still wore. “Walk of shame? You could’ve left my bed and no one would’ve known.” Although he didn’t like the idea of her sneaking out after sex.
She chuckled. “They would’ve known. I wouldn’t have been able to hide the stupid excited grin on my face. But you know…I would’ve slept with you without you having to marry me,” she teased and he leaned over her so he could whisper against her lips.
“And I would’ve, too, had your friends not been hovering like mother hens.”
* * *
She laughed, surprised at how content she felt just where she was. She could feel how much he wanted her, knew how much she wanted him, and yet she didn’t mind talking to him while feeling his skin against hers.
Aimie also loved his weight on her, and ran her fingertips up and down his spine. He had tattoos she intended to explore more thoroughly, and little scars she wanted to know all the stories to, but now she really wanted to feel him.
“They love me. Of course they try to protect my heart, but I’m a grown woman. I can decide whom I want to sleep with and when, and now you’re the lucky one.” She pushed him back until he had to sit on his heels, then she made him get up, opening his jeans and, in a moment of bravery, pulled down the denim along with his boxers.
“Aimie, I…” he stuttered, but she didn’t care. Instead she kissed her way up his thigh until she reached his bobbing erection. Looking up at him, she found his eyes full of worry. Deciding to ignore that too, she wrapped her fingers around him, gazes locked, and licked along the underside of his cock.
He hissed, his muscles jumping where she had her free palm pressed against his thigh, and then she winked at him.
“You’re going to kill me,” he muttered.
“Not yet,” she assured him and then sucked him into her mouth. He trembled, reaching for something, and she took his hands, entwining their fingers while she teased him only with her lips and tongue.
Ryan cursed under his breath, his grip getting tighter, and she hummed in appreciation. She pulled back until only the crown of his erection was left between her lips, and gently grazed her teeth across it, causing another round of violent trembles.
“Aimie, I cannot take much more,” he warned, tugging at her hands, trying to get his free, but she didn’t let him.
She couldn’t remember ever having felt so sexy, so tempting, and it helped that he’d been the first to be completely naked.
Sucking him back in until he nearly hit the back of her throat, he whimpered.
“I swear, I cannot hold on much longer, beautiful. I…” He swallowed audibly as she pressed her tongue against the underside again, bobbing her head in rapid succession now.
“Aimie…”
She hadn’t heard that tone in his voice yet, but she knew exactly what it meant, and she knew she’d file away that special tone because the next second he was coming all over her tongue, and she swallowed it all readily.
Once done, she finally let go and he collapsed onto the couch, breathing harshly.
Crawling over him, she gave him a smug grin.
“Don’t look so satisfied,” he muttered, “that wasn’t how I planned it.”
It hadn’t been what Aimie had planned on, either, but it didn’t matter. She’d enjoyed every bit of it, and from the way he was still trying to get his breathing back under control she knew he had, too.
“Worked out well, I personally think,” she replied and then moved up a little so she could kiss him.
So far she hadn’t seen much of the apartment, but what she’d seen was all clear lines and manliness. The couch was cold at first, but soon heated under their bodies, and it was wide enough so they both could lie on it together. Though now Ryan kept her where she was, caged her with his arms while intensifying the kiss.
And boy, he knew what he was doing. She couldn’t remember if a kiss had ever left her heart fluttering as hard as his kisses always did.
His hands travelled up and down her back until vanishing inside her panties.
“You know what’s good about you being so small?” he asked huskily while she bit her lip.
“No.” Why in the world did she sound so husky?
“I can slip my finger into you without needing to move much.” And just as he said it she felt his finger inside of her, finding her more than ready for him.
“Oh fuck, Aims,” he breathed against her neck. It was about the same thing she wanted to say, but didn’t… or rather couldn’t.
“I didn’t lie; I wanted this,” she whispered, moving against his hand, wanting more, needing more, and yet it wasn’t exactly his finger she wanted to feel.
“I can tell.” His lips were near her ear and he nibbled on her earlobe, nearly driving her crazy.
“More,” she pleaded, whispered, begged. She could hardly think.
“Oh God, Aimie.”
She suddenly was on her back and he was hovering over her, his finger where it had been ten seconds ago. Only this time his tongue had joined his finger and she arched off the couch, crying out in unexpected pleasure.
It had been too long she’d given into a guy, and even longer giving in to someone she had utterly wanted.
There had been one-night stands, not many, but some, and there had been serious relationships, but the way she’d wanted Ryan was unlike anything she’d ever felt, and the more time he took with her, the more she knew she’d been right about never having felt anything like that.
At some point her hands had found their way into his hair, holding on, and yet she wanted to pull him up.
“Ryan Spencer, please,” she muttered and gently tugged. “I need you.” And she did. She wanted more, wanted him to look at her while he gave her more, too.
He moved, closing his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers. “No. I…I can’t, Aimie, I…”
“I do.” She shifted until she was able to reach for her discarded jeans and took out the two condoms Hilary and Tessa had given her at the airport and Ryan couldn’t help his grin.
“You came prepared.”
She shrugged, kissing his lips and then his jaw before sighing. “Tessa knew me better than I thought. And so did Hilary. They gave them to me, and boy, I’m glad about that.” Because she hadn’t thought about any protection at all.
* * *
She had it all. She was utterly prepared, friends’ fault or not, and he could hardly believe it.
He took the two packages and then held them in his hand, meeting her eyes. “Aimie, we don’t have to, okay?”
“Yes, we do, because I want to. God, Ryan, I’ve wanted it since before you and I woke up married. I mean, we are a couple and I don’t see any better reason why we should have sex right after coming home, before I’ve seen the rest of your apartment.”
She suddenly shifted, worries clouding her face and he realized he was going about it all wrong. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, and then gritted her teeth.
“You know, it’s okay. I understand. Forget it. I’m sorry.”
She stood, and in the process grabbed her jeans and her shirt, hurrying toward the stairs leading up to the second floor of his more than expensive apartment. He knew she had no idea where she was going, but it seemed away was all she wanted.
“You don’t understand anything,” he protested, following her and catching her on the stairs. He drew her against him, kissed her until her protests had melted, and just to make sure she knew that he wanted her, he grabbed her hand and brought it to the part of his body that was coming to life again, had come to life before she’d jumped off the couch.
He pressed her against the stairs, knowing it wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but she didn’t seem to mind at all. Ryan opened her bra and got rid of it, then turned until she was sitting in his lap and he could suckle her breasts.
Aimie held onto him and leaned back just a little bit, giving him more access.
Behind her back he fiddled with one of the condoms until Aimie took it, laughing. He wanted to chuckle, but the sound died in his throat when she rolled it over his cock, her fingers wrapping around him tightly, teasingly.
“Now, I thought you were impatient?” he gritted out, trying to sound teasing, but it didn’t work.
She leaned forward, cautiously lifting herself then lowering her hips down, biting her lip.
Ryan pulled the tortured lip free and then kissed her, not yet daring to move. This was too good, and although he’d just come a few minutes ago, he felt already close again.
“This is better than anything I’d ever imagined,” Aimie whispered against his lips and then circled her hips, tempting him, teasing him until he couldn’t do anything but hold onto her, trying to keep her still.
“Just a second. This is too much. And…I haven’t…I didn’t want to do it myself, so…I kinda…” He kinda totally needed to stop talking. This situation turned his mouth too loose.
She brushed her nose along his jaw, purring softly. “Are you saying you didn’t jerk off anymore because you hoped to get me into bed?”
“Wished,” he corrected since she’d started moving again, riding him slowly now. She knew what she was doing, was in full control, and he found it sexy as hell, especially when she was usually rather shy.
Moving with her, changing the rhythm, he kept his eyes on her face, needing to see her pleasure. It was in the way she licked her lips, the way she leaned back occasionally—and especially in the way she gasped his name. She trembled, and God, it took everything in him to not just let go.
She was important now, was the only thing that counted, and he needed to feel her come before he followed.
Lifting her up and holding onto her, he placed her on the carpet again, wrapping her legs around his hips before moving into her faster. She reached for him, tugged at him until he kissed her.
Ryan didn’t remember the last time he’d gotten lost in sex the way he did with Aimie. Kissing his way along her jaw and her neck, he reached for her hands and stretched them out above their heads, holding her eyes when she gasped again, bending her head back as she whimpered his name over and over, pressing him closer to her with her legs.
“Aimie.”
“Ryan.”
She came, holding onto him, and it was then Ryan understood how it must’ve been for Tessa when she’d slipped up, had almost told Jazz she loved him before she was ready.
Only this time around it was him who’d almost said the words, and as much as he was ready to say them, she sure as hell wouldn’t be ready to hear it.
* * *
The carpet was surprisingly soft—not that Aimie felt much of it really, lying on top of Ryan. He brushed his fingertips across her back while she hummed in contentment.
“That was…man, I cannot begin to imagine what we’d have managed in a bed,” she teased, unable to help herself.
“I wanted to go up, but you just kept protesting,” he pointed out and she laughed, kissing his chest.
“I was just messing with you. This was great. This was perfect. Seriously.” She pressed her lips against his, closing her eyes as the tip of his tongue teased hers, igniting another low fire in her belly.
“This should feel weird,” she then added and he shifted until he could look at her.
“Why?”
Aimie shrugged. “Because we don’t know each other. Or rather, not that well. Yet I can’t help but be absolutely okay and happy. Like…” She trailed off. She knew exactly why she felt the way she felt: he was hers now, had nowhere to go. They’d consummated the marriage when they were both sober.
He could no longer ask for their marriage to be annulled now. It eased her mind. They were married. She didn’t have to prove anything, and although she wanted to impress him, wanted him to develop deeper feelings for her, the terrifying part of dating fell away.
“Like?” he prompted, his tone cautious.
“As if this was real.” She sat up, unable to look at Ryan, and pulled up her knees to hide her nakedness.
He followed her and his lips trailed across her shoulders. “It is real. You and I are. And to hell with traditional and conventional. You can be happy. Hell, I’ve been happy since you said yes.”
He was serious and she smirked. He knew exactly what to say sometimes, and it made her wonder if he had an uncanny talent to read all women, or just her.
She rested her chin on her knees, enjoying the warm feeling of his body pressed against hers. “I wish I remembered saying yes.”
It was something that had been going through her mind since the morning she’d slipped out of his bed to rejoin Tessa in their room.
He stayed silent for a moment and she considered how it must’ve sounded to him. How he felt about all of this.
Eventually he sighed, drawing her against him, wrapping his arms around her. She took his hand and kissed his palm.
“I thought I wouldn’t care, you know? Scratch that, I was sure you would’ve remembered something. I… I can’t take it back now though.”
She swallowed. “Do you want to?” It’s impossible now, she chanted to herself .
“Let me be clear.” He shifted until he’d turned her toward him, and then he lifted her chin, meeting her eyes.
Jesus, she felt like drowning in the sincerity of his gaze.
“I don’t regret marrying you. But I regret that you haven’t really been there with me. I wish you would’ve consciously been able to make that decision, when Hilary clearly was right and you weren’t in your right mind.”
Aimie touched his cheek, his lips, glad she actually could. “Ryan, I did make the conscious decision that night, or I wouldn’t have said yes, and I was clearly awake. And I made the same conscious decision again the next morning when I saw you. I decided that we were going to do this marriage thing, and we will. I’m here, aren’t I? And since you and I slept with each other, I think we can check off our wedding night, too. And our first time. Hey, we’re nothing if not efficient.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
She nudged him with her nose. “It’s too late for regret. I’m not going to let you get out of it now.”
He stood then, and pulled her to her feet, too. She’d put on her panties at least, and he was wearing nothing but boxers, distracting her briefly.
Only when she realized that she could stare at his more-than-perfect ass did it settle in that he was walking away from her. Searching for her bra and his shirt, she put both on, too, and then followed him into the kitchen.
Upon entering she’d seen the couch, and him, to her left, and now noticed that to her right there was an open kitchen. All gleaming and pretty, and she almost feared touching it.
“Ryan,” she half fussed and he looked up, his eyes meeting hers.
“I don’t want out, but tell me this was how you imagined your wedding. Tell me you saw it in jeans and a top, with two giggling girls, and one of your best friends absent. Tell me—”
“I’m not telling you anything.” She was surprised how pensive the sex had made him, and almost considered being celibate until he knew she was all in and had no regrets whatsoever. “I wasn’t one of those girls who imagined her wedding day, who saw herself in a fluffy white dress on thirty horses surrounded by fifty doves and whatnot. I didn’t see myself walking down the aisle, sobbing out of happiness, Ryan. But you want to know what I imagined?”
He silently nodded, his lips drawn in a tight line.
“I imagined one day finding someone who’d go to any length to be with me. Who’d pull stunts to convince me we belong together. I imagined someone who would one day love me so much, he’d make Jazz look like a man who genuinely likes his wife.” She smirked as he did. “Love is not a competition, but I still wanted to maybe make Tessa jealous with how great mine is.” She winked.
It wasn’t true, not really. She believed love wasn’t a competition, but she wanted to make Ryan smile.
She wanted him to understand that she didn’t care how she got married, she’d always imagined herself and her husband at the end of their lives, making fun of the youth who didn’t know real music, and of Tessa and Jazz who couldn’t stop touching each other while they couldn’t, either.
“I longed for someone who would give me his grandmother’s ring because he was sure I’d stick with him forever, and that wherever that ring went, he’d go, too.” She walked around the kitchen island that separated them and squeezed herself between him and the counter. “I wanted someone who would defy my friends to be with me.”
She was about to say she wanted someone like him, but that wasn’t true.
She didn’t want anyone like him.
She wanted him.
* * *
God, she meant it. She meant every word.
And she meant him.
He gathered her close, burying his face in the crock of her neck and inhaled deeply. This was probably what it felt to have someone genuinely care.
And he couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.
“Why? Where are your parents?” Aimie asked.
He’d spoken out loud and grinned in embarrassment. “You’ll get that a lot. I tend to think out loud when I’m puzzling over things.”
She glanced around at the wide, empty space, and he again wished he’d changed the entire interior. “I’m not surprised you need to hear voices here,” she muttered and then focused on him again.
“I promise I’ll always answer when you mutter.”
He grinned. “I better not talk about my sex fantasies with myself anymore. That could turn out difficult.”
Her smile vanished. “No, talk to me about them. It’s what we’re a couple for, right? I might not go along with it all, but we’re a couple, and we can solve that only together, especially because I’m not going to be okay with you kissing any other woman, or making out with them, or touching them…”
“I’m a doctor, I need to touch them,” he pointed out with a smug grin. The jealousy coming to her face gave him much more satisfaction than anything she could possibly say.
“Yes, but you know exactly what I mean, Ryan Spencer. Remember Hilary’s threat.”
Funnily enough it hadn’t been the threat of violence that had hit him hard, but the fact that Tessa had stood in front of him and had announced she’d never again invite him anywhere if she ever found Aimie crying in front of her door.
It didn’t matter how often he’d protested that she was his friend, too, and that Aimie would only end up there if it was something they couldn’t solve together, she’d been tenacious about locking him out of her life.
It had made it more than a little clear that for Tessa it would be her girls above all else.
And that sure as hell made him want to stay away from her, no matter how much of a softy that made him.
“Ryan. You keep spacing out on me. What the hell is going on?”
Yeah that was something he’d love to know as well, because as it was, the day was full of ups and downs.