Pleasures of the Night(35)

“Yeah, well,” she began grumpily, “I got the crap scared out of me, too, so…mmpph—” She grunted as he tugged her into him and crushed her close. Her stiffened frame relaxed immediately, and she sank into his strength and the comfort he offered.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised gruffly. “Don’t be scared.”

She almost cried. Unlike everyone else in her life who told her what she had to do to make herself feel better—see the doctor, take more meds, eat healthier—Aidan took the burden completely from her. She gave it to him gladly.

“I had the worst nightmare,” she confided. “There was pounding and banging against metal, grinding and scratching, and this god-awful wailing sound.”

“You can’t just drift into sleep.” He gave her a little shake to emphasize his words. “You’ve got to fall hard and fast into it.”

Tilting her head back, she caught the torment in his gaze, amazed to realize he cared about her. More than casually. “You scare me, too.”

“No.” Aidan shook his head. “You trust me. You need me.”

“That’s what’s scary.” She felt safe with him, her fear unable to affect her when he was in her arms. That dependence on something so new was frightening. Could she trust something she didn’t comprehend?

His lips brushed across hers, firm and delicious, the taste of him lingering, teasing her already heightened senses. Her tongue traced the curve of his lower lip, seeking more of it. The quiver of fear in her belly intensified, and then turned into something else.

He exhaled harshly and pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, his hair dripping water down her cheek. The mood around them altered, the anxiety she felt turning into a very different kind of desperation.

His eyes slid closed, then he began to free the buttons of his shirt. She stepped backward and gaped as a deep, strangely familiar heat spread through her chilled limbs.

Stacey kept a Chippendales’ calendar on the wall at the clinic. Not one of the men displayed on those pages could hold a candle to Aidan Cross. He was solid rippling muscle. Every line, curve, and plane flexing with latent power and pure masculine grace. He was more lean than bulk. More sinew than bulging mass.

“Gorgeous,” she breathed, before she could turn her brain on enough to keep her mouth shut. Chad had never once made her feel this hunger. She hadn’t even known it was possible to crave someone like this.

The look Aidan gave her in response to her praise was scorching, needy. And unmistakable.

She wasn’t a slouch in the figure department, but Aidan was perfection in a way that unsettled her. There was something about him, a foreign quality that called to her, a sense of being…more. More beautiful, more intense, more sexually charged. More than a mere man, though she couldn’t see where that thought came from. A god.

Suddenly shy, Lyssa turned slightly to the side.

When he caught her by the elbow and tugged her back around, she blinked in surprise.



“I’m looking at you,” he rumbled arrogantly.

She raised her brows. “Yeah, I’m looking at you, too.”

“Stop trying to hide.”

“Stop being so bossy.”

His gaze narrowed. Then he released her and reached for his belt. Thoughts of anything else were impossible when her brain was fully focused on him and the fact that he was about to be naked.

The end of the belt slapped against the wall when Aidan yanked it free. Despite the closed fly, the pants fell from his lean hips into a soggy puddle at his feet. Part of her brain wondered why his clothes were so damn big. The other part could care less, far more interested in the cock that curved upward to almost touch his belly button.

Her mouth went dry. Long, thick, and pulsing with veins, it was a wet dream come to life.

Where did you come from?

Your dreams.

And he was dripping wet and getting wetter. She giggled.

He leaned back and arched a brow, his mouth slightly raised in a half smile that urged her to cup his cheek. He was too arrogant and self-assured to take her momentary amusement as anything to do with the size of that impressive cock, and she loved him for it.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” he said, tugging her closer again. Then he reached for the liquid soap, squirted some into his palm, and went to work. On her body.

She jerked in surprise when his slick hands cupped her breasts. He tried to look innocent, but with the mischievous gleam in his eyes, it didn’t work. Never one to back down from a challenge, Lyssa scooped up a trail of bubbles from her tummy and grabbed his cock.

He arched a brow and washed between her legs.

She arched her own and tugged at his balls. Her chest rose and fell rapidly in response to how intimately and possessively he touched her. Aidan took note, adjusting his movements with unparalleled skill. There was none of the hesitation or silent query that other men displayed with a new partner. And she showed none with him, washing his cock and balls as if it was her right to do so.