Page 24 of Stealing It
Chapter Nine
Aidan
ISURFACE AND GRABthe pool wall, breathing heavily. I lost count of how many laps I did after three hundred. I never lose count. Thoughts of Magnolia crept in and I couldn’t think straight let alone keep track of my workout. I’m beginning to wonder if this is what it feels like to be obsessed. When I eat, I think about her lips. When I go for a run, I think about her body. When I’m listening to my boss drone on and on at informational meetings, I think about her wit and charm. When I’m shooting targets, I think inappropriate thoughts. It’s all so confusing. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always thought about sex. Daydreams of nondescript, naked women bending ways that aren’t humanly possible. This specific, Magnolia shit, though? Never. Not even once. Not even after having a rocking night with a woman who pushed all of the right buttons. Nope, still a headless person, stored in the spank bank. I spit out a mouthful of chlorinated water. She drowns me.
Hauling myself out of the pool, I rip off my goggles and throw my hands above my head to recover quicker. The indoor pool is attached to our gym on base and I can hear weight plates clanking through grunts and groans of exertion. It’s good to mix up my workout routine every once in a while to keep all of my muscles engaged. Mercer walks from the locker room, a towel slung over one shoulder. I grin when I see he’s wearing his American flag speedo and a swimming cap that says ‘fuck boi.’ We got it as a gag gift for him last Christmas, but he likes the combo more than he’ll ever admit.
“How’s the water?” Mercer asks.
I release my stretch and grab my towel off the rack and start drying off my shoulders. “Cool?”
“Cool? You’re a regular old Einstein aren’t ya?” Mercer laughs as he positions his goggles on his eyes. They are holograms. One eye saysblowthe other eye saysme. Those weren’t a gift. He found those himself.
“I zoned out,” I admit, tying the towel around my waist. “The water is water. It’s always the same. They’re right, you know? Some chicks change everything. Even if you try your hardest to keep everything the same.” I lean against the rack and peer at my phone sitting on top of the ledge.
“Are you saying you don’t want change? If you didn’t want change, you’d just move the fuck on. You want it,” Mercer says, sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling his legs in the water.
I brush my hands through my hair and water flies everywhere. “I don’t think I have a choice.”
“Seriously? You, Aidan Mixx, the elite killer, professional panty ripper, serial dater, doesn’t have a choice? Bullshit. All you have is choices.” Mercer shakes his head. His southern accent gets deeper when he gets fired up about something, or when he talks about his home or family.
Leif appears from the same place Mercer did, grinning widely. As if he’s been summoned by implied commitment. “What are you guys doing the rest of the day?” Leif asks. It’s a loose schedule, and we already had our one mandatory meeting early this morning.
“I’m gonna get wet and then go make some lucky woman wet. A day full of wetness, brothers! Is there anything better?” Mercer yells, hopping into the pool with a screech. He starts stroking, heading toward the other end of the lap pool.
Leif shakes his head, but his smile drops when his gaze meets mine. “We still need to get together to talk. Want to grab lunch?” He nods his head to the doorway behind him. “Shower then head to the diner?”
I nod. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” Leif is married and has a baby. If anyone is going to give me useful, practical advice it’s going to be him. “How’s the family?” I ask, slapping him on the back to retreat to the shower.
He smiles wide, and a weird dreamy look changes his features when he replies. And I realize it might not be obsession that I feel for Magnolia, it might be what Leif feels for his wife. That is equal parts scary as it is thrilling.
_______________
After lunch with Leif and all of the truth bombs he dropped, I decided to go see Magnolia. It’s early afternoon so Kendall is still in school and Magnolia mentioned last night she was going to work at Magnolia’s Steals in the morning and then work on some pieces in her garage at home. I picked up iced coffee and I’m approaching the garage when she comes flying out, her ponytail falling out. She’s wearing short shorts and a tank top. I swallow hard. The need for her is greater than anything else. I’m still getting used to it.
Magnolia spins on her heel and faces me. “Aidan!” she exclaims. Magnolia is excited, her eyes flare when she looks at me from the top of my head down to my feet. “What are you doing here?”
I extend her drink. She takes it. “I was just leaving. A last minute auction popped up. It’s the next town over.” Magnolia checks the small, delicate watch on her wrist. “I’ll be home before Kendall gets home from school. Do you want to go with?” Her smile is hopeful.
“There’s nothing I’d rather do than spend time with you.”
She blushes and takes a sip. “They aren’t selling people. Still interested?”
“I have an antique bed, remember? I’m like a secret antique collector. Do I get to sit next to you?”
“Yes. Of course. And hold a paddle if you want to.”
I grin, stepping toward her. “I get to hold a paddle?”
“Yeah,” she replies, nuzzling her face into my chest.
I hate that she can feel my heartbeat, knows that I’m so affected by her. Then again, it’s easier this way. If my actions say one thing, perhaps my heart will tell the truth and she’ll be able to discern the difference. “You like to be spanked,” I ask, leaning away to peer at her face. “Such a naughty girl.” I grin.
“No one said anything about spanking,” Magnolia croons, gaze darting away from mine. It’s there, that fire that tells me it’s not off the table. My dick hardens. “I didn’t know how to work dating apps before you, do you really think I have any experience in BDSM, Aidan?” I don’t either, but fuck would I love to do it with her in whatever capacity would satisfy her.
As we walk to her truck, I make a joke about paddling her in the middle of the auction. She blushes again and cranks her truck. Magnolia tells me it’s a quick drive and makes small talk about what she’s been working on and what she hopes to find today. I encourage her to keep talking. I love finding out things about her through her passion. She tells me a lot of auctions are held online these days, but she loves the thrill of the in-person ones. Nothing blows her skirt up like a bidding war. I take a mental note.
“Favorite antique,” I ask.
