Page 30 of The Marine

––––––––

Iopen the door tomy apartment and Aidan stalks in.

Like an angry predator.

He looks so handsome in his blue jeans and white shirt. Freshly showered, the ends of his dark hair are still wet, and the scent of his bodywash fills my home.

“Hi.”

He glances around and then glares down at me with his blue eyes. “I take it he doesn’t live here.”

I shake my head. “Of course not.”

“Of course not?!” he asks with a raised tone. “Of course notwould’ve been when you stopped me from fucking a married woman in the restroom of my damn office building.”

Yeah.

That.

“I’m sorry,” I say, closing the door.

“Are you?” Adian growls.

“Are you?” I retort.

He keeps glaring as he towers over me, his hands planted on his hips.

“Are you, Aidan? Do you regret fucking me? Just say it if you do.”

He takes a step closer to me and my breath hitches.

“I want to fuck you again is what I want to do,” he says angrily.

My mouth parts and I feel my pussy throbbing. It’s been six long hours since he was inside me and I want him again.

I shouldn’t.

I should hate him.

I do.

He killed my father.

But the need to feel this man inside me, on top of me, under me is so completely dominating I can barely breathe now he’s touched me again.

“Briar,” Adian raps, taking another step.

This was not the plan. We were going to talk. Or rather Aidan demanded he come over so we could talk. Instead, I throw myself at him and he wraps me in his arms like we are long-lost lovers.

We. Are.

“Where’s the bedroom?” He growls.

I kind of point and murmur, and in seconds we’re beside my bed and he’s tugging off my T-shirt. Then his clothes go flying and I’m shimmying my shorts off.

I am married.

I should stop.

---