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The Proposal(52)

By:Katie Ashley


She snorted exasperatedly. “I’m surprised you’re even asking about how good you were. Don’t you always think you’re amazing?”

His hand snaked around her shoulder, rolling her back over. With one arm on the other side of her head, she was pinned beneath him and forced to face him. “You’re the only woman in the world I want to be amazing in bed for or to give mind-blowing, multiple orgasms to.” He shook his head. “No one else, I swear.”

Staring into his eyes, she brushed the back of her hand over the stubble on his cheek. “You need to shave,” she murmured.

Aidan arched his eyebrows. “You don’t want me to grow it out? Maybe have a goatee or a beard?”

“No, I like it just the way it is.”

“Then I’ll shave. For you.”

Overwhelmed by her burning feelings for him and still reeling from her sex dream, Emma leaned up and brought her lips to his. Aidan immediately froze, and she felt like she was kissing a marble statue. When her mouth opened to slide her tongue against his lips, he slowly started to thaw. Her hand that had been caressing his cheek slipped into his hair. She ran her fingers through the silky strands, tugging and pulling as she went just like her teeth did to his bottom lip.

Aidan gave a low moan in the back of his throat as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. God, she had missed the feel of his mouth on hers—his tongue dancing tantalizingly along hers. Desire pooled below her waist, and she knew she wanted him more than ever before.

He moved his hand from her shoulder to her breast, kneading and cupping the sensitive flesh through her nightgown. She widened her legs, allowing his hips to dip between them.

But when he started to lift the hem of her nightgown, Emma’s eyes flew open as reality, rather than a dream, crashed over her. “Wait, Aidan no!”

He pulled his head from her neck to stare at her with eyes hazy and drunk with desire. “Please tell me this isn’t because you don’t want to do this, but it’s because we’ve both just realized the doctor said not to?”

She nodded. “I’m not even supposed to have an orgasm because it can cause contractions.”

He smirked at her. “Then it was a good thing I woke you from the sex dream, huh?”

Blushing, she gave a half-laugh. “I guess so.” As he pulled himself off of her, she said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We both got carried away.” He smiled as he snuggled against her. “Besides, it may not be as physically gratifying just to hold you all night, but there’s nothing I’d rather do.”

Emma groaned. “Why do you have to say things like that?”

“What?”

She lowered her gaze. “You keep saying and doing all these amazing things. It confuses me.”

“You want me to be an asshole or something?”

“No, of course not.”

“Oh I get it. You want me to be the old, self-centered Aidan, so it’s easier for you not to feel what you do.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But don’t you want me to change?”

“I fell in love with the old Aidan, remember?”

He growled in frustration. “But don’t you want me to be a better man for you and for Noah?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then let me say and do what I want.”

“Fine.”

They lay in silence a few moments. “You’re really never going to forgive me, are you?” Aidan asked.

“Wait, where did that come from?”

He rose up into a sitting position. “Everything I’ve done for you in the past eight days, everything I’ve said, all the apologies, trying to make it right…it hasn’t meant shit to you, has it?”

“That’s not true,” Emma argued.

“Obviously it is. If you were totally sold on us getting back together, you wouldn’t let Pesh come over, even in a medical capacity. You would have already said you wanted to be with me.”

“I said if it bothered you so much, I wouldn’t let Pesh come over, and you were more than welcome to have stayed here—it’s your house for goodness sake. You could have stayed and seen for yourself that nothing romantic happened between Pesh and me. But you chose to leave.”

“So now you’re trying to act like I left so that must mean I didn’t really care if Pesh tried to make a move?”

“No, that’s not it at all.”

“Once again, everything is all my fault, right?”

Emma rubbed her temples. “Can we please not argue about this? I’m tired.”

“Yeah, well, so am I.” He flung the covers back and stomped from the bed. Emma didn’t bother asking where he was going. The pounding of his feet on the stairs told her everything she needed to know.