Chapter Six

Magnolia

THE OLD, WOODEN STAIRS creak loudly as Aidan’s large frame weighs on each step. “It’s hot up here,” I say as we reach the top landing and the humidity hits us like a right hook. “But, I know I have a fan in here somewhere.” Reaching into a coat closet, I pull out a fan. Aidan takes it from me and waits for me to direct him where to go. We enter a room across the hall. I use it for storage, but there is a bed. Rephrase that, there is a bed frame and a mattress standing against a wall.

I wince when I see the state of the room. “Sort of looks like a room used for prostitution. Or a squatter’s residence. Or something really seedy and related to a trap house. If you want to go to your place, we can,” I offer, fumbling for the correct words. He’s being so understanding about everything, and I feel like the weak link who can’t get anything right. “It is really hot,” I repeat. Tell me where it hurts. A phrase I’ve said to Kendall a thousand times. You say those words when you care so much that you’d do anything, anything in the world to ease the pain from the place it exudes from. Surely the words don’t mean the same thing when Aiden says them. Do they? “And it’s not romantic in any way,” I add, wondering if I’ve gone absolutely crazy.

“Stop,” Aidan says. “Move out of the way.” I do as he says, the feral look in his eyes not to be challenged for fear of it diminishing even a miniscule amount. He wants me, and I can hear it in every word he says, in every move he makes. I back into the doorway, out of his way, as he plugs in the fan, and turns it on high. He grabs the mattress and tilts it so it falls directly on the wooden frame. “I’ve been meaning to get this to my house for the spare room but didn’t want to ask for help getting it down the stairs and into my truck,” I explain.

Hands on his hips, he surveys the bed, then turns to look at me over his shoulder. “Tell you what, once I’ve fucked you on it, I’ll put it in your truck? How’s that sound?”

I swallow down the huge ball of anxious nerves. He has turned my jagged cry fest into a sexual tension so great I can barely stand still without vibrating out of my clothing. Aidan pulls on the back collar of his shirt and slides it off. He’s sweating—beads of sweat sliding down his neck, sluicing down his chest and abs. My mouth waters. Aidan watches me watching him, his smug grin fading into something more serious. “This isn’t rebound fucking, Magnolia. Do you understand? You have to look me in the eye tomorrow and not feel embarrassed about everything you confessed tonight. This isn’t casual anymore.”

I wasn’t planning on ghosting him, but now that he’s mentioned it maybe I was. I slide my shorts off and strip off my tank top. “Isn’t that my line?” I ask, unfastening my bra and tossing the sweaty fabric aside.

“Leave the panties on,” Aidan barks when I tuck my thumbs into them. “Those are mine to take off.”

They are black lace, different than last night, but still just as amazing. I had some intuitivism to wear decent undergarments when I got out of the shower in a haze of emotions this morning. I nod. “I’m going to look you in the eye tomorrow. This isn’t me rebound fucking,”

Aidan says, shaking his head once. “We clear?”

My stomach flips. His maleness is prominent—his needs on display. His heart on his sleeve. “You wouldn’t be a rebound even if that was my plan, Aidan. You’re too good at giving me orgasms. I’ll always want more from you. I’m afraid that you’re going to tire of me after.”

Aidan fishes a condom out of his pocket, tosses it on the bed, and he steps out of his jeans. His dick springs free and I lose my breath at the magnificent specimen in front of me. “It’s fine if I hook you with my bedroom skills, but I want you to stay.” He wraps a hand around his hard-on and the sight of his fingers gripping the girth laden shaft makes my head swim and my knees weak. I wasn’t granted this view last night, no. It was all about me and my pleasure. Aidan played my body with deft hands and a skilled tongue. His words praised me just as much as his body did.

Even right now he’s saying all of the right things. Aidan isn’t making me forget Paul. He’s erasing him completely by being everything he never was—Aidan is different. He crooks his finger, the same way I did to him earlier. I close the distance between us as more sweat beads on his shoulders and neck.

“You’re hot,” I say.

“You are making me hot, Magnolia,” he says, taking my panties in his big hands and ripping them off. “Not the weather.” I gasp from the shock of the force but settle into full-fledged passion a moment later, consumed by how frenzied he is with feeling my body—his palms grazing my breasts and shoulders, sliding a bit because a sheen of sweat glazes my entire body. It’s not uncomfortable heat, just enough to make me self-aware of every breath, every beautiful drop of wetness on his muscles, bringing out the scent of masculinity—of Aidan. He takes my chin in his hand and jerks it up so I’m gazing into his hazel eyes.

“You’re perfect,” he says. And even though I’m not, I believe it when he says it. “Kiss me.”

Throwing my arms around his neck, I bring our warm bodies together and obey his command. It’s a desolate kiss that ends with me on top of him on the bare mattress. There is a desperation in the way his fingers glide over my skin, the way he breathes rapidly, the flex of his abs as he exerts self-control in a scene that reeks of two people who have no control whatsoever.

I trail my hands over his muscles, memorizing the feel—the curve, the hardness. “Aidan,” I say, speaking the word into his open mouth while catching my breath. I remember what he told me about letting go, being in the moment, and feeling it, so that’s what I do. I close my eyes as he reaches between my legs and strokes me with deft, experienced fingers. I slide off his sweaty body a bit and have to reposition myself to gain purchase.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, taking my earlobe into his mouth. He sucks once or twice and releases it, creating chills despite the warmth at all angles. “I want to make you feel good.”

I’d respond if I wasn’t on the brink of orgasm—I’d tell him being this close to his body gives me life, passion, a whole new destiny, but I keep that vested in favor of moaning for him to press harder. I open my eyes before I come and he’s watching our entwined bodies in an old mirror that covers almost the entire wall next to us. “Watch me,” he commands. “The mirror. Watch us.” With my hands sliding on his chest, he lifts me up farther on my knees and pushes me back as he handles his dick. He grabs the condom next to us, rips it open, and slides it over his shaft while looking directly at me.

I watch the hazy reflection as he slides me forward and positions himself, tilts his hips up so just the tip enters my body, and then turns his head to the side to meet my gaze in the mirror. “Are you watching?” he asks, eyes flickering with an emotion I don’t fully understand.

I’m transfixed. It’s as if I’m watching two other people in the throes of passion, yet my body is on fire. “I can’t look away,” I confess.

His smile at my words is lackadaisical at best. “Ride me,” he returns, setting his hands on my hips, a light touch. “Like you mean it.” He was all business while we were talking downstairs, straightforward and practical. The man in the mirror doesn’t even seem like the same person. The man beneath me, the one who is currently entering my body as I slide down, inch by inch, is someone else entirely. An entity granted for my pleasure—the man is made for this. I wanted this last night more than I care to admit, but now I’m glad I had a warm up. The slick feel of his hands on me guide me to a pleasurable pace—one that makes him groan, and my eyes roll back in my head. Feeling him fill my body is sensational, the connection unlike anything I have ever felt. I watch him in the mirror while he watches me in real time, his eyes narrowed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

He lets me ride him up and down a few more times, muscles coiled in restraint, and then he slides me off him and lays me back on the mattress, parting my legs with one of his knees. Aidan settles between my legs, thrusting into me in one, core-clenching push. “That feels good,” I cry, tipping my chin up to receive his fiery lips. Sweat, his and mine, mingles, creating a slippery friction that lights the air with the scent of sex. Leaning away from our kiss, he buries his face in my neck and breathes heavy, his free hand wrapped around the base of my neck, a reminder who is running things right now.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he rasps. “This is mine.” Aidan swallows audibly and thrusts deep inside me, rubbing me in all the right places. The frame of the bed squeaks out in protest as he ravages me—brings me closer to blissed out paradise.

“It’s yours,” I repeat, jagged breaths catching my words. “I’m almost there.” Tilting my hips up, I slide my hand between our wet bodies and stroke my clit as the pleasure builds. Aidan keeps the pace the same, his breathing uneven, his hand skimming the side of my body to end under my thigh.

He pulls my leg up to fuck me at a deeper angle and I come apart, one wave of pleasure at a time. I can feel his smile against my neck as he stays deep inside me as my orgasm hits. Closing my eyes against the onslaught of feelings, I ride it all the way up and back down. My heart is beating out of my chest, a reminder that I am in fact living in this moment instead of dreaming of it. A string of curse words exits my mouth when I finally have my wits enough to speak.

Aidan juts his hips when my body relaxes into the afterglow, and he comes in a rapid fierceness so strong I can feel his orgasm pulse against my channel. He grunts, relaxes with his elbows on either side of me and slides his forehead over to rest on top of mine. Sweat. So much sweat is glistening on our bodies. I don’t know which is his or which is mine. “That was the hottest sex I’ve ever had,” he says, taking my bottom lip in between his teeth. “In both temperature and physically,” he explains.

I smile with my eyes, unable to move my mouth. He releases my mouth with a kiss. “Is that a bad thing?” I ask, floating around in that after sex cloud of delirium laced with lust tainted love. Casual, I remind myself. Even if I am his girlfriend, this is casual sex. Don’t make a big deal about it. Don’t show him too much. You showed too much downstairs. Keep this close.

“It’s a very good thing, Magnolia,” Aidan chirps, a wide, lazy smile on his face. It steals my breath when he says my name paired with that smile. He reaches between our bodies and pulls the condom off. He ties it, hunts for the wrapper and slides the cum filled latex into the foil.

“I’ve never had sex with a condom before,” I admit. So much for not giving him anything else. “It feels…different.”

Aidan grins. “Does it? I’ve never had sex without one.”

I must look shocked because he goes on. “Not a risk I’d ever take.”

“Oh,” I reply, sitting up, dabbing sweat off my chin. “Even if you were exclusive with someone?” I eye the foil and raise a brow. “Seems a little unnecessary if other measures were in place.”

“I control a condom. I can’t control a chick taking a pill at the same time every day,” he says, glancing away. I prod a bit more and he tells me he’s not opposed to having children eventually, but he wants them to be planned. He’s not good with surprises.

Swallowing, I come to my knees and press my body against his. “That was amazing. The best sex of my life, I just can’t help but wonder what it might feel like to have you inside me without barriers—with nothing between us. Just skin. You and I.”

Aidan’s neck works. “When you put it like that,” he says, chuckling. Aidan explains how he gets tested at work monthly for STDs or any sort of health ailments, really, and then I tell him how I have a nifty IUD that prevents pregnancy. He seems intrigued, almost as if I’m an alien when I tell him how it works. “You mean there’s fishing wire in there and I didn’t feel it?”

I nod. “And it stays in place for fifteen years. I had it put in years ago and didn’t bother having it taken out after the divorce. It seemed easier to leave it there.”

“You’ve given me something to think about.”

“I can’t believe you’ve never considered it in the past. You’ve been in relationships.”

He clears his throat, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. “They weren’t the trustworthy kind.”

“I am?” I ask, grinning. I can feel his erection rising again.

Aidan shifts so it’s between my legs, the warmth pressing at my core, but not entering. His breath hitches. “You are, I think. Even if I rarely trust anyone.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because you trusted me with your truths,” he replies, pulling away to look me in the eye. “You feel better now, don’t you?”

My stomach flips as I look into his eyes. “I don’t even remember where it hurts anymore.”

Aidan smiles. “We’ll have to repeat your pain management treatments daily.”

Licking my lips, I say, “Thank you. I don’t think you realize how much tonight has meant to me.”

Eyes narrowed, he studies me, like he’s trying to fish a lie. A rash of unwarranted self-conscious nerves winds around me. “You’re the one taking a chance on a bad boy,” Aidan says, cocking his head to the side and cupping my face in his big hands. Hazel eyes dip down, and a haunting glow replaces the sweet one. “You hold all the risk.”

“I also hold all of the reward then,” I reply, pressing my lips together.

“Fuck, Magnolia,” Aidan hisses before pulling my mouth to his. “I want all of you.”

There has never been anything easier than living, and feeling in this moment.

Nothing.