Page 29 of Pillowtalk

“You okay?”

Her eyes floated up to his, a shiny wall built up over the deep brown irises. “No,” she said, her honesty lifting the corner of her lip for just a moment. “Are you okay?”

Aaron leaned back at the unexpected question, not remembering the last time he’d been asked that by a woman. He exhaled against the top of her head, his grip tightening on her soft, warm hip. He’d made countless mistakes in his past, but there was still that giant one that had stayed with him even now, years later. And he knew…he knew right then that he was going to make it again.

“No.” He pressed his lips together briefly. “No, I’m not okay.”

Her beautiful eyes filled with unshed tears, and she set a hand on the beating pulse in his neck. The other found the back of his head, her fingers tangling in the wet strands of his hair. She pulled him to her lips, her body shifting upward against him as she pushed up on her toes. It was Aaron who shook his head this time, knowing that going any further would break his control completely.

“Please?” she whispered, her breath a hot rake over his lips. “Can we…try to make it okay? Just for a little bit?”

Christ,how was he going to deny her that?How was he going to deny himself? He smoothed a hand along the length of her back and into her hair, swallowing back the guilt that was already starting to invade his thoughts. She wanted him to take away the pain in her heart, to make everything okay for the time she was in his arms. He wanted that from her, too,desperately,but he knew going there would only make things so much worse later.

But…this wasn’t just about him. If it were, maybe he’d find the strength to push her away, to put up the wall, to keep her at arm’s length. Maybe.

But with her wanting,needingsomething from him, he couldn’t say no. The devil on his shoulder danced as he covered her mouth, deepening the kiss almost immediately after their scorching lips touched.

She moaned into his mouth, melting against his body as if he’d given her the drug she’d needed for an affliction she’d carried for far too long. Her tongue slid frantically against his, causing his grip to tighten, to keep her locked in place so he could taste more, feelmore.

There was a whine near their feet, and while it pained him to do it, he stepped forward, pushing Kennedy farther into the laundry room so he could kick the door closed and give them privacy away from his dog. Her perfect bottom knocked the dryer door shut with a bang, and he felt her lips tilt up in amusement through their passionate kissing. She shivered against him, and he ran his hands down her ribs, over her hips, and tucked them under the firm curve of her ass and hoisted her up on the dryer. With their new position, she cupped his face, played with his hair, trailed her nails over his jawline…Aaron held back a deep moan at the sensations, loving how she appreciated the features of his body, yet feeling guilty that he loved it. He turned his attention to her, his palms running over her thighs and up under the plaid shirt.

She was completely bare underneath. He knew that, but feeling it under his hands was a whole different ballpark, and his erection strained in his wet clothes as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips. She sucked in a harsh breath when Aaron’s thumb dipped down to her inner thigh.

“Yes,” she said, their foreheads slick against each other from the rain in their hair and the sweat of their heated passion. “It’s okay, please.Please.”

Aaron complied, inching his hand up and palming her hot and ready sex. All his trepidation flew out into the storm when he saw her eyes widen and her sexy mouth form into a perfect O at his touch. Her head tossed back, and he painted her lovely exposed neck with wet, openmouthed kisses, slipping a finger inside of her. She was swollen and wet with need, and Aaron blinked at the spots blurring his vision, his own arousal hard and painful now against the zipper of his soaked jeans.

He grasped at her shirt with his free hand, popping the buttons so that her perfect, round breasts bounced free. He covered one with his lips, his tongue reaching out and flicking at the hardened nub. She jerked and bucked against him, holding on to the back of his head to keep him in place. Heavenly expletives rolled off her tongue in a sweet, sultry symphony that was perfectly in tune with the thunder rolling outside. He moved to the other breast, giving it equal attention as the first, speeding up his pace.

“I…I need…” she uttered in a pleasured, broken voice. “I need…more.Please.”

Those “pleases” were his kryptonite, weaving into his ear and crippling his self-control. Aaron withdrew his hand and kissed his way down her soft stomach, pulling open the remaining two buttons on the shirt. He set a palm between her breasts and coaxed her flat across the washer and dryer. Her dilated eyes widened as she realized he was not going to have sex with her in the way she’d thought; he was going to please her andonlyher. As he’d promised himself before, this wasn’t about him, and he wasn’t going to make it that way. If truth be told, though—and he shoved the thought away before it overtook him—giving Kennedy what she needed was going to give him more than enough pleasure in itself.

He kissed her inner thigh, grinning against her skin when she twitched under his lips. Her body was tense, timid, and shy over the intimacy of the act, and he smoothed a hand over her knee to let her know that it was okay to trust him.

Her legs slowly fell open, and Aaron kissed her center softly first, gently easing her into relaxation. She moaned when he bent his head again, sucking her swollen clit into his mouth for the briefest of moments. He had to let out a long, heady breath to get control over himself, to not say “screw it” and find his own release.

She lifted her hips, silently asking for more. Aaron grinned before going down again, this time with more conviction, running a tongue over her folds. She jerked underneath him, her nails scratching the metal of the dryer as her fists clenched at her sides. He grabbed hold of her thighs and pulled her legs up on his shoulders. She bucked against his mouth, thrusting in tune with his tongue at a frantic pace. Aaron lost himself in the sounds she made, in the way her nails dug into his hair, how sweet she tasted. It wasn’t long before her back arched up off the dryer and he lapped at her sweet release.

As she relaxed back down, Aaron withdrew, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and breathing hard to try to catch his breath. His eyes wandered over her lazy limbs, her arm draping off the side of the washer, her belly and breasts exposed with the button-down shirt hanging loosely by her sides. Her chest rose and fell to the same beat as his, and when he caught sight of her eyes, a fist locked around his heart.

She was crying, softly at first, but as the seconds ticked by, her tears grew. Her hands came up and covered her face, her body starting to curl in on itself as she was overcome by whatever was plaguing her. If it was guilt, Aaron knew all too well how she was feeling, and his guilt doubled in size.Was she already regretting it?

He pushed up off his knees, ignoring the ache in them from kneeling on the tile, and brushed her hair back. She kept her face covered, shaking her head back and forth, as if she felt that she didn’t deserve such a gentle touch after what they’d done.

Aaron swallowed hard, pushing away the prickling sensations that were rushing to the surface. He coaxed her to a sitting position, carefully buttoned up the buttons that survived, and then pulled her onto his waist. She burrowed into his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his neck as he opened the laundry room door and took her to the living room couch. Charlie could be heard following them, but the pup stopped from jumping up with one sharp nod from Aaron.

It was a mistake. Aaron knew it going in, but he did it anyway—rationalized it, thinking that he was being selfless, when he really was being selfish all over again. He gently put her down on the couch, sliding in next to her while she sobbed. His hand wrapped around the back of her head and eased her into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she said against his skin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He softly shushed her apologies; they weren’t needed. At least not to him.

But then his eyes drifted over to the urn propped up on the adjacent couch, and a part of him wondered if her apology was meant for him at all.

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