Aaron came to say goodbye. Noticing me asleep, he planted a kiss on my forehead and went off. I stayed quiet and didn’t even consider showing--care. I was a horrible person to do that.
“I’ll miss you.” I murmured in a low voice.
But Love hurts when you know how it’s going to end in the end.
The spirit of this home left the place, leaving turmoil behind him. The desire, the need to have him close, was getting grudgingly intolerable.
After work, I came to an empty house.
“Good evening Ma’am.” Well, almost empty, chef Dave was in the kitchen, prepping up the food for dinner.
“Hello, Dave. It’s just going to be me tonight. Aaron won’t be joining for dinner.”
“Yes, ma’am. Would you like something to drink?”
“Yes, tea, please. Also, umm. You can take the next two days off.”
“Alright, ma’am. Do you want me to prepare lunch and dinner for the two days and store it in the refrigerator?”
“No. I’ve other plans. Thank you.” I smiled at him and left him alone.
Without Aaron, everything felt dull, tedious, and it was only the first day.
It was the same monotonous, wearisome routine the next day.
In the evening, after dinner with myself. I changed into sleepwear. I picked up a book that I haven’t got a chance to finish. I thought of reading the book in Aaron’s study room, which had an ambiance of relaxed elegance. I made my way there and found myself standing outside of ’The forbidden Room--Aaron’s bedroom.
The smell of his cologne invited me in. His bed, teasing me, pleasing me to come and stay.
Miss. Joans, the housekeeper, had left his nightwear folded neatly on the bench in front of his bed. I picked up his sweatshirt, brought it up to my nose, and inhaled the scent, but all I could smell was the laundry detergent. I wore it anyway over my silk cami and hugged myself. ‘I was missing him.’
I found the study room. It was almost as expected; wall covered with books, other walls highlighting the artwork. I turned the fireplace and curled up comfortably on the black leather sofa. It was warm and cozy, and I began to read the book.
When the morning came, my eyes opened up to see the ceiling; I tilted my head; it looked different, and, also, I was in bed, but it wasn’t my bedroom. I carefully turned my head over on to my left and saw Aaron.
He was here.
′How quietly, he’d slipped in through the night and crawled in the bed with me.' My lips curved into a smile as I watched him sleep.
He was home, and he’d come back a day early. I wondered when did he get back? Yesterday night or at dawn?
Anyway, my heart was giddy with happiness. I wanted to grab his face, wake him up, shower him with kisses.
The longer I stared at him, the deeper my affection went on. The effects of the temptation began to rise within me. Now I wanted to kiss him--so so badly.
Chancing my luck, I decided to peck a small kiss on his cheek before leaving him alone. It was easily accessible without interfering with his sleep, so I set in motion to kiss him on his cheek, just then Aaron’s head moved promptly, and I got his lips—instead.
And his eyes flew open. ‘Uh, oh.’
I flutter my lashes, but I don’t make any sudden movements. Aaron had an amused smirk. His hand went behind my head and added pressure to connect our lips.
Slowly Aaron rolled over me and deepened the kiss. Oh, it feels so good to be under a man’s body, I thought to myself. I like his weight on me, the slow rub of our bodies, triggering effects, intolerant feelings, everything was driven.
I’d missed him.
He’d miss me too.
The heated kiss fed the flames, and blaze erupted. Aaron’s hand slid inside the sweatshirt, and he squeezed my breast. While my hand curved over his fine ass, he chuckled against my lips that made me realize what I just did.
I withdrew my lips for him. We gazed at each other while his finger caressed inside the material.
“Hmm... I love the way you welcomed me.” He flashed his dimple. Aaron bent down to catch my lips again, but instead, he spoke: “I wish to be like this every morning.”
I felt my face heating up. I caught my bottom lip in my teeth and lowered my lashes.
“I need to umm... get ready for work,” I said softly.
“Alright.” He gave a quick peck on my lips, then jolted out of bed and went to the bathroom.
I pulled the covers over me and muffled my squealed in silence. Oh my god!!!
Fresh out of the shower, I wore my skirt and a blouse. I made my way to the kitchen, and since I’d told chef Dave to resume work from Monday. I began to prepare breakfast for both of us.
I’d coffee brewing, and Spanish omelet slid onto a plate and left it to cool before serving. Just in time, Aaron slipped into the kitchen. 'Why does he had looked so yummy in his black shirt and destroyed jeans?'
“Good morning.” He made his way over to me.
“Morning.” I smiled. “When did you get back?” I fetch him an empty cup.
“Three a.m.” He accepted the cup I offered to him. “I was looking for you everywhere when I found you sleeping in the library.” He said, pouring coffee for himself.
“And then somehow, I woke up right next to you, in your bed?” I mused about the idea and pushed my cup forward for more coffee.
Aaron sat on the counter, his long legs dangling freely, making him look more like a child than a young noble businessman.
My eyes got tangled with him in such a way that I couldn’t untwist it.
We both look at each other from the rim of our cup. Our eyes were flirting with each other, and quiet desperation halted at our lips.
“It was nice to know you missed me.” He was referring to his sweatshirt I was wearing earlier.
My cheeks flamed. “I... I was cold,” I gave him an excuse and turned to check on the sizzling sausages and bacon in the pan. Of course, he didn’t buy it.
Aaron followed and hugged me from behind, his lips brushing the words over my ear, “I’d missed you too, Jess.” He purred, and god, did he have to smell so musky good.
“I found a pressed flower; it fell from the book you were reading.” He noticed.
Yes, I’d use every flower from the bouquet he’d given me for my birthday in Vegas. I didn’t have the heart to throw all of them away, they were part of my memories, so I kept each of them in all my books and used them as a bookmarker.
“Every single flower you gave me,” I told him.