Page 38 of The Producer: Aaron

“My presence in this house has really ruined you if you’re using the pool for pure pleasure.”

My voice makes him stop halfway and turn toward me. The smile on his face as soon as he looks at me is priceless.

“I may have discovered that I like to enjoy my home,” he admits, and there’s a streak of serenity in his voice that I have never noticed before.

He seems to be happy to spend Saturday afternoon basking here in the sun, something that until I moved here did not happen. It seemed uninhabited at first, this house.

“I’m happy to have brought something positive into your life.” I approach the edge of the pool as he reaches me.

He puts his hands on the concrete and pushes himself up to get out, but I push him back into the water. He looks at me with a half-amused smile that soon turns into a look of lust when I grab the hem of my dress and lift it above my head to pull it off. I drop it on the floor next to my sandals and sit by the pool edge before gliding into the water wearing only my underwear.

Aaron’s gaze never leaves mine as I approach him and rest my hands on his shoulders. His fingers squeeze my hips, and when he speaks to me, his voice is hoarse, charged with a desire he cannot hide. Our bodies are so close that I just need to breathe a little deeper to touch his chest with my breasts.

“How was your day? Did you have fun?” His gaze slips from my eyes to my lips, and then struggles to climb back up when I answer.

“It was a disaster, but it’s definitely getting better.” I smile andclose the distance between us.

To hell with hesitation. If I have to live another three months in this house, either we do something because of the tension that has been created between us, or I explode.

“Really? And why this improvement?” His mischievous smile makes me tremble right in my belly. He has never been one to throw these kinds of smiles toward me.

“The view from this house is much better,” I whisper, taking in his chest, shoulders, neck, and jaw with muscles darting before my gaze rises to his lips.

“Yes, I have no doubt about that.” His gaze becomes fiery when my tongue touches my lips to moisten them.

His arms slide to wrap around my waist and hold me against his body. I stick my fingers in his hair and enjoy his expression as he closes his eyes and his lips open, enjoying the pleasure I give him. When he opens his eyes again, I am breathless. I was wrong if I thought I had seen the passion that this man can hold within himself.

His stormy gray eyes set fire to parts of me that no one has ever been able to light, much less with a simple glance. His hand runs up my back and caresses my shoulder, my neck, and my cheek until he lingers with his fingers on my lips.

He seems mesmerized by his fingers sliding on my skin, appreciating its delicacy. I let my tongue slide over his thumb, and when I wrap it between my lips and tease him, all his control slips away.

His hand moves to my butt, grabbing and squeezing it into a vise that almost makes me groan. My legs wrap around his hips, and his hand pushes me against his erection, making me sigh.

His lips take the place of his fingers, and when his tongue sinks into my mouth searching for mine, the moan coming out of my throat is almost heartbreaking. One hand clasped on my butt, the other stuck in my hair in a firm grip, the explosionthat this kiss causes in my stomach is devastating. No one has ever kissed me with the voracity of a hungry man in front of a banquet, branded me to the deepest, or possessed me in the most animalistic sense of the term with a single kiss.

The guys I dated always used kisses as a premise to get to something more, a means to achieve their goal. Aaron is kissing me as if he wants to brand me, possess me, make me his. The way he sinks his fingers in my hair, his tongue fighting with mine to subjugate it, his fingers digging into the flesh of my thigh almost to the point of hurting me, makes me feel likehis woman. The one he dedicates his unconditional attention to, the one that he makes come with all the experience of his thirty-six years. For this reason, when he detaches himself from me panting and rests his forehead on mine, it’s as if the sun has gone out and the world is freezing.

“Maybe it’s better if we order dinner,” he whispers before putting me down, stepping back, and putting distance between us. I am so shaken it takes me a while to understand his words.

No! I don’t want to order dinner. I want him to take me here, right now, in this pool. But the resoluteness in his gaze leaves no room for any reply, and my heart stops in my chest. I got a taste of the fire Aaron can light and, at the same time, the ice that can freeze any feeling that warms your chest.

I kissed her and then left her at the pool to order dinner. What man behaves so immaturely? I’ve never run away from what I felt, even when I was eighteen, yet I found myself overwhelmed by that kiss. If I hadn’t stopped, I would have fucked her in that pool, without a condom, completely ignoring all my responsibilities as an adult. Because Dakota makes me lose my mind. Is this how men feel when they fall in love with younger women? Powerful and entirely overwhelmed by their emotions?

“Aaron, you’re still staring at the screen.” Tracy’s voice calls me to reality.

“Sorry, I’m not in here with my head,” I admit.

“I understood it the third time I repeated your appointments for today.” She looks at me, worried.

She probably feels like she’s been taking care of a toddler the last few weeks as I’ve lived in this limbo where Dakota enters my thoughts without warning and stays there until I strive to move my thinking elsewhere. Whereas before it was easy for me to focus on my work, now I have to make twice the effort to keep even the simplest things going. I need to find a way to find my balance.

“I kissed her,” I admit when it is evident that we won’t get out of this if I don’t pull out of my chest what I feel.

She doesn’t seem surprised by my confession, and I raise an eyebrow inviting her to tell me what she thinks. I chose this woman to be by my side at work because she has no problemtelling me what’s on her mind. In an environment where everyone kisses my ass, it’s refreshing to have someone around who isn’t afraid of you.

“You are not someone who just kisses. Not at thirty-six, at least.” Her observation reinforces what I already know.

“There was nothing else.”

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