Page 45 of Remember Me

I took one step toward him, just one, my body responding to his pull before my mind could catch up and it was enough. It had always been enough between us.

Our sexual chemistry was something I’d never experienced before. When other relationships would start to slow, ours heated up, and it only seemed to get better the more we learned about each other.

He dropped into one of the front-row seats with languid grace, spreading his legs in silent invitation. I stood at the end of the row as his eyes flicked down my body like he was already undressing me with his mind. The leather creaked beneath his weight, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet suite.

“Come here,” he said, patting his thigh, the simple command holding layers of promise. “Face the field.”

I let out a shaky breath that fogged slightly in the over-air-conditioned room. “You want me to…what? Watch the game while I’m sitting on top of you?” The idea was so quintessentially Aiden, mixing his two greatest passions with casual audacity.

He leaned back, and smirked with one corner of his mouth lifting higher than the other. The expression sent a jolt of electricity straight between my legs. “You narrate. I admire.”

“The game? You want me to tell you what’s happening in the last 3 minutes of the Super Bowl while we…”

I couldn’t even finish the sentence because it was dangerous. Reckless, and so us.

He nodded. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his demeanor. I took in our surroundings again. Closed off box, tinted windows, locked door.

We were good. So I climbed into his lap with deliberate slowness, savoring the building tension. My knees braced either side of his hips, the leather seat cool against my skin as my skirt rode up and the only thing separating us were his pants and my thong.

I could feel him. That thick erection already pressing against me eagerly. I adjusted slightly, settling my weight, and his hands came around to grip my waist like he was starving, his fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks I’d discover later.

“Pull your panties to the side,” he murmured against the nape of my neck, his breath hot and damp against my sensitive skin. The vibration of his voice sent a full-body shiver through me, and I was already building my way to an orgasm.

I did as he asked, fingers trembling with anticipation rather than nervousness. The cool air hit my center, making me gasp softly. He undid his zipper just enough that I could feel his cock against my thigh. I took him in my hand and stroked him slowly and deliberately as he groaned softly, the sound reverberating through his chest and into mine where our bodies pressed together.

I lifted my hips, angled myself above him, feeling the blunt pressure seeking entrance. With excruciating slowness, I lowered myself down with a gasp that shattered the silence between us as he pushed all the way in. The stretch was deep, decadent, bordering on too much yet never enough. Perfect.

His head dropped back against the chair with a soft thud, his throat working as he swallowed hard. “Fuck, Alyssa. Yes. Just like that.” His voice had roughened to a growl, the sound sending another pulse of desire through me.

I steadied myself, gripping the armrests as I breathed through the intensity of sensation, of fullness. My thighs tightened around him, muscles already trembling with the effort of holding myself still. For a few seconds, we stayed completely motionless, locked together, letting the heat of it settle in, savoring the connection that felt both carnal and sacred.

“Now,” he said, low and demanding, his hands sliding up to grip my hips with bruising intensity. “Call the game.”

I blinked at the field through the floor-to-ceiling glass, the stadium lights almost too bright, creating halos in my vision. Below us, Tanner lined up at the thirty. Third and long. The final quarter was on fire, tension was building both on the field and in the charged space between our bodies.

I started to rock my hips slowly, easing into the rhythm, and it was like a current ran through me, electric and consuming. Each movement sent sparks cascading up my spine, building a delicious tension at the base of my skull.

“Tanner’s looking left,” I whispered, breathless, struggling to form coherent thoughts as pleasure built with each subtle shift of my hips. “There’s motion. The defense adjusts. It’s loud as hell out there.” My words came in staccato bursts, punctuated by the rhythm we were creating together.

Aiden’s hands slid beneath the hem of my jersey, pushing it up inch by tantalizing inch until, exposing my skin to the cool air and his hungry gaze. His palms dragged over my bare stomach, up my ribs, leaving trails of heat that contrasted deliciously with the chill. His fingers brushed the underside of my breasts, teasing, never giving me quite enough contact where I was beginning to ache for it.

“Keep going,” he said, his voice strained with the effort of restraint. “You feel so fucking good.” The raw appreciation in his tone made me clench around him involuntarily, drawing a hiss from between his teeth.

“Snap,” I panted, my voice higher and breathier than normal. “Tanner fakes it—no, keeps it—rolls right. Pressure’s coming fast.” The words tumbled out between gasps as the coil of pleasure wound tighter with each rolling movement of my hips.

He thrust up into me once, hard and sharp and unexpected, hitting a spot deep inside that made stars burst behind my eyelids, and I gasped, momentarily forgetting the game, forgetting my own name, forgetting everything but the feel of him.

“He spins—throws—deep over the middle—caught!” The last word emerged as a cry as Aiden repeated the motion, driving up into me.

My hips rocked harder, finding a more urgent tempo. Aiden slid one hand down to grip my thigh, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh, anchoring me while the other roamed up my spine, beneath my jersey, splayed flat between my shoulder blades. The dual sensations with one hand holding me down, the other pushing me up, created a delicious tension that arched my back.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, his words hot against the sensitive skin behind my ear. “And this view, your back, your ass, fuck, Alyssa.” The way he said my name, part reverence, part possession, sent another pulse of pleasure through me.

I moved faster, driven by the rhythm of the crowd outside, the rhythm of him inside me, and the growing intensity that threatened to undo me completely. Every time I circled my hips, I felt him deeper, stretching me, filling places that felt both familiar and brand new. Every time he thrust up, my voice caught in my throat, a symphony of half-formed sounds that would have embarrassed me with anyone else.

“They’re in the red zone,” I said, the words rushed and slurring together as my focus narrowed to the exquisite friction between our bodies. “Tanner’s scrambling. Avoids a sack. Throws back across the field. Corner of the end zone. Touchdown.”

The suite vibrated with the force of the stadium erupting, thousands of voices merging into a single roar of triumph. Aiden growled, the sound more animal than human, and dug his fingers into my hips, guiding me faster, deeper, the controlled rhythm giving way to something more primal, more desperate. Sweat trickled down my spine, a single drop sliding between my shoulder blades, and my thighs were shaking with the mounting pleasure.

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