Page 105 of Done with You

But the man had a masochistic side and he used her to hurt himself—or at least tried to—even if he wasn’t aware of it. Deep down, she knew he was a good guy, he just needed some tools. He needed someone to talk to, to help him sort out his trauma and wrangle his demons.

That person wasn’t her, though.

He stepped off the bar stool and slowly approached her.

Her heart threatened to bruise her ribs, it pounded so hard.

She licked her lips, but stood her ground.

He didn’t stop until they were nearly toe-to-toe. She could smell his deodorant or laundry soap or whatever it was. It smelled good. Manly, woodsy, and delicious.

Lifting his hand, he reached up and gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers graze her cheek.

Like an idiot with no willpower and intelligence, because her brain was not thinking right now, it was her clit running the show, she closed her eyes.

“I know you want this,” he murmured, the hot puffs of his breath hitting her lips he was so close now.

Was he trying to push her into lashing out again? Make her mad so he could get mad? Did he want her to call him an asshole to validate how he felt about himself? Because she knew, he knew, he could be a jerk. She didn’t see a lot of self-love when she looked at Aiden Lassiter. She saw a lot of pain. A lot of unresolved anger and a devastating amount of guilt.

He loathed himself for his past. His guilt for whatever happened when he and Jordan were teenagers would be a perpetual third wheel in any relationship unless he dealt with it properly.

And yet …

She wanted him to kiss her.

She wanted to feel his lips press against hers. His hard body wrap around her and push her up against the wall. She wanted the bad boy, even if every part of her screamed that it was wrong.

Blinking open her eyes, she found him watching her. One side of his mouth hitched up into a lopsided smile that made her belly flutter. But it wasn’t a cocky smile. He wasn’t waiting for her to react negatively. Rather, there was guarded hope in his eyes that hit her in a part of her chest she hadn’t been expecting.

She’d only had one glass of wine.

If she needed to drive, she could.

So it wasn’t the wine talking.

She wasn’t drunk.

Mind you, she’d never been drunk when she slept with Aiden. Not once.

Maybe if she had been drunk, she’d have made a better choice, because before she could let her brain talk her out of it, her clit took the reins and she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He kissed her right back, fervently, moaning into her mouth and parting her lips to explore it with his tongue.

This is a bad, bad idea.

Shut up. It’s my time for fun.

Oh great. Now her brain and clit were having an argument.

She ignored them both and allowed him to guide her to her bedroom, kicking the door closed with his heel. He had her on the bed, his big frame on top of her, large arms caging her in as his tongue plundered her mouth.

He peeled the neck of her sweater away from her shoulder and planted a warm wet kiss there, then scraped his teeth up her neck and along her jaw line, lifting the hem of her top with his hands as his mouth traveled down her body. She made quick work of her sweater, tossing it to the floor, so it was just her bra between them. But even that didn’t last. She arched her back and removed her bra, letting it meet her sweater on the ground as he swirled his tongue around her belly button,

He climbed back up her body, dragging his tongue along her heated skin, creating gooseflesh in its wake until she trembled beneath him. He claimed her mouth once more, smiling against her lips when she reached for the hem of his shirt to peel it up his body.

He broke their kiss and sat up on his knees, pulling off his shirt to reveal those abs.

God damn those abs were perfection.

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