The way Aaron whispers my name sends a shiver down my spine, which makes me even angrier than I already am. I don’t want to react to him like this. I turn to him, trying to keep my face as straight as possible.
“What are you so upset about?” he asks with a frown.
I grind my teeth as I narrow my eyes at him. Damn, this is a legitimate question. What am I so upset about? I wish I knew for sure. I went out with a friend; we had some excellent food and some delicious wine along with some great conversation. It could have been the perfect date.
And that’s the problem: it wasn’t a date, as much as it felt like one. And the fact that it pissed me off when those women were openly flirting with Aaron tonight makes me realize I might be wanting things I shouldn’t. Over the past few days, I’ve seen more than once how women react to him. But I’ve never felt like he gave any of those women more attention than he gave me. Until tonight.
“You,” is all I answer to his question.
He crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans against the kitchen isle. He studies me with a blank expression on his face, so I have no idea what he’s thinking, which is unusual because he’s been pretty easy to read until now. Or maybe my anger throws me off.
“I see,” he breaks the uncomfortable silence. “And why is that? What did I do to upset you?”
I draw in a long breath through my nose and slowly release it through my lips. How can I explain this to him when I don’t even know for sure what’s going on myself. I run my hand over my face and pace up and down my kitchen. “Look,” I say with a deep sigh. “I get what kind of guy you are.” I stop at the counter across from him facing in his direction and grab the edge of the countertop behind me.
“What kind of guy?” he repeats.
“Yes. Women love you. You love women. You can have any woman you want, and you obviously want them all. I’m sure you even had them all.”
His face still shows no emotion when he says, “Wow, you know me well after one week. Yes, I enjoy a woman’s company when I get the chance, but I am respectful. I told you I don’t force myself on anyone. They all wanted me too. But that doesn’t answer the initial question: Why are you mad at me?”
I throw my hands up and groan. “I don’t know, Aaron,” I snap. “I wish I knew. But how you flirted with that blonde bombshell of a waitress tonight pissed me off. And when I came back from the restroom and saw how you talked to the girl who gave you her number, even if you didn’t take it... that just pissed me off even more. And then there’s Amy...” I sigh as I let the rest of the sentence hang in the air.
He straightens himself up and stares at me vacantly. “What about Amy?”
“I saw the way you looked after her. You have feelings for her.”
And finally, I get a facial reaction from him. His left eye twitches and he presses his lips together. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again right away. With a shake of his head, he takes a deep breath. “All right. Maybe I have wanted Amy in a way I shouldn’t have. But I’m over that. Affections change.”
I snort. “Within a matter of days?”
“Yes, within a matter of days, Sweetness.”
“Don’t. Call. Me. That,” I say through gritted teeth.
He rolls his eyes. “Come on. Just like any other woman you enjoy the attention I give you. That I’m calling you all these annoying names makes you feel special. But for some reason, you don’t want that. You don’t want my intentions to be anything but friendly. I’ve got news for you, though. My intentions towards you are no longer just friendly. The way I acted around those women tonight was no different from the way I acted around any other woman when I was out with you before. But something shifted, and that’s why you perceive it differently. You are jealous, Kaitlyn.”
I push myself off the counter and turn my back to him to put some distance between us. ”Pfff, jealous! You think I am attracted to you?”
A hot shiver runs down my spine as I notice his presence right behind me. “Yes, you are,” he whispers.
His words and his breath, which fans the skin on my neck, make my heart race; a nervous tingling starts in the pit of my stomach, and I draw in a sharp breath. I spin around to face him, which only makes it worse. Heat spreads through my body, and breathing becomes an impossible task. As much as I want to deny it, I can’t. And when my gaze stupidly falls on his lips, he lifts them in a smirk.
“Don’t look at me like that. I will not kiss you until you beg for it,” he says as his face comes closer and my eyes dart back to his. “And you will beg for it, Angel.”
I gasp. His arrogance is infuriating. “I will not beg for anything,” I tell him through gritted teeth without breaking eye-contact. “And calling me pet names is not gonna change that.”
He lets out a low laugh. “Your body language is telling a different story. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils dilated, and your nipples beg for attention. And not to forget the way you bite your lips and run your tongue along them. Oh, I’m gonna enjoy kissing those lips", he adds with a low growl.
Forming a coherent thought gets harder and harder, and I wonder how I manage to speak at all as our faces are still only inches apart. “So you are attracted to me?” I croak. The heat that radiates off him makes my body temperature rise a little more, and breathing in his spicy scent makes me dizzy. My heart is about to burst in my chest as agonizing anticipation of something I can’t define takes hold of me—something I don’t want to define.
Aaron chuckles and slightly shakes his head. “Oh, Sweetheart, you have no idea. But you should know—how I feel about you is so different from how I feel about all those other women you mentioned. If it weren’t, I wouldn’t hesitate to strip you naked and fuck you right on that kitchen table.”
I draw in a sharp breath. “You wouldn’t.”
“Yes, I would. You are so mad at me right now that it would be incredible. Angry sex is one of the best; it’s raw and intense. But the first time we’ll have sex won’t be angry. It’ll be slow and sweet like you deserve. And I will worship every inch of you.”
I really don’t want to, but I have to bite my lips to keep in the moan that wants to escape, or what’s worse—the demand for a kiss he wants to hear from me. I close my eyes and slowly inhale through my nose to keep the overwhelming emotions that are boiling inside me at bay. I can’t move, I can’t speak, I can’t think. It’s scary what this man does to my sanity.
With my eyes still closed, I sense him take a step back, and I only open them when he speaks.
“Call me when you’re ready.”
And with that, he’s gone.
“He did WHAT?”
I have to hold the phone away from my ear to prevent my eardrum from bursting because my best friend, Amber, screams her last words. She’s always been the louder one out of the two of us, ever since we shared a sandbox back when we were three years old. I haven’t called her since I came to New York two weeks ago, which is the longest we’ve ever not talked, but she spent the last three weeks on some tropical island with her boyfriend. So I had to fill her in on what happened—starting with my first encounter with Aaron, and last but not least how he left me all hot and bothered and furious last night. Yes, in that order.
“Let me recap this real quick,” Amber says a lot calmer, much to my hearing’s delight. “You met this guy, who was kind of an ass, but then he was so nice because he took you to see the Statue of Liberty and other sights around the city, and you kind of fell for his charms. And after you went on a date that wasn’t really a date, you got mad at him, and he told you he would fuck you on your kitchen table?”
“In a nutshell, yes. And now I don’t know what to do. Amber, tell me what to do,” I whine.
My friend sighs. “First, I gotta say I’m a little pissed off that you didn’t tell me about this guy earlier, but if he’s as gorgeous as you describe him, I get it. You were distracted by all that hotness. Are you still mad at him?”
“Not sure. A little.” I take a deep breath and hold it in for a moment before I exhale. “But if I’m honest, I’m mad at him for leaving me like he did last night. And now he wants me to make the next move? Me? I don’t know if I can handle him. I’ve only ever been with sweet and gentle guys. But Aaron... he’s all hot alpha male. You know me, Amber. Wanton and lascivious aren’t the first words that come to mind when describing my sexual behavior.”
Amber bursts out laughing. “True. Bashful is what I’m thinking. Maybe he can teach you a thing or two. Oh, Kaitlyn, please, call him and let him fuck you on that table.”
“Amber!” I gasp. “There won’t be any sex on my aunt’s kitchen table. Can we change the subject? I need to let this sink in a little.”
“Sure,” she laughs. “Let’s talk about your other thing: Telling your parents you want to be a writer.”
I groan. “How can you be so cruel? I’ve not given this much thought yet. I’ve played out some scenarios in my head, and they all ended with me being disinherited and chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks.”
“Oh, Sweetie,” Amber chuckles. “As much as I’d love to tell you it’ll be all right because your parents love you, I have my doubts. Seriously, it would be less of a shock if you came back pregnant.”
“What? No way!”
"Of course! Don’t you remember how happy your parents were when your sister announced her pregnancy?”
I let out a deep sigh. “Hm, you might be right. But as that’s not gonna happen, I’ll need to come up with something. Well, I still have time until then.”
“Yeah, but now there’s this hot dude who will distract you because he wants to fuck you on your kitchen table.”
“Will you stop with that kitchen table already?” I moan. “And who says he’s interested in more than his usual one-night stand?”
“I guess you’ll have to find out. I hope this turns into something more because a summer fling might help you loosen up in that department. And once you’re all loosened up, you won’t care about your parents’ lecture anymore. So meditate and reflect a little to find out what you want from Aaron. Maybe he wants the same thing.”
“Hm, yeah, I will,” I answer her, more confused than ever. “Thanks for listening.”
“Anytime. Okay, I gotta go. Keep me posted on this Aaron-thing.”
“Sure. Bye, Amber.”
We end the call, and I drop down on the couch. I stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out what the fuck it is that I’m feeling for Aaron. I need to collect my thoughts, which are all over the place – just like my emotions.