Page 55 of The Lies I've Told
Aiden was indeed correct about there being a hotel next to the restaurant we’d dined at.
Although calling it a hotel might have been a bit of a stretch.
“Are you sure you want to stay here?” he asked after paying the ridiculously low rate for our room.
He dangled the key in front of me, a look of challenge spreading across his face.
Grabbing it from his hand, I stalked forward toward our designated room. “Are you coming?” I asked over my shoulder as I shoved the key in room number thirty-four.
“Right behind you. Are you sure you don’t want me to go in first? Do a quick check for dead bodies? Or police tape?”
I rolled my eyes as I pushed the door open.
To put it bluntly, it was pretty horrifying.
“It’s fine,” I said, holding my head up high as I made my way in past the peeling wallpaper and the clunky old air conditioner.
“Have you ever stayed in a place like this before?” he asked, stepping past me to take a peek in the bathroom.
“Have you?” I asked, unsure of where to sit exactly.Was the bed even safe? Maybe if I removed the comforter.
“A few times,” he answered, returning from where I could only guess the shower was.
“Well, if a rich kid from Yorkshire can rough it, then—”
“London,” he said suddenly. “I’m from London.”
My brows furrowed in confusion. “But, online, it says—”
“I know what it says online, but I’m from London.”
There was a pleading tone to his voice, and I knew not to ask any more questions.
“Well then, boy from London, I believe I was promised a night to remember.”
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, making my stomach flutter. “I don’t think that’s exactly what I said.”
“I might be paraphrasing.” I grinned.
He took a couple of steps closer, and I used those precious few moments to appreciate the man I had here with me. If I could sculpt the perfect male form from clay, it would be Aiden Fisher. He was what I imagined when I closed my eyes at night.
And he was standing right here, all hard, lean muscle from years of honing his craft. I couldn’t wait to run my hands along each ridge and curve of his body and feel the power hovering beneath. With bewitching hazel eyes and shiny black hair made for touching, I knew I was in for one wild night.
“If you keep staring at me like that, this is going to be over quicker than I planned.” He was so close, I could feel his breath, hot and warm against my neck as he bent down to whisper in my ear. “Are you sure, love?” he asked softly.
My insides melted. “Yes,” I answered, my legs shaky from his voice alone.
I felt his lips brush my collarbone, and I nearly moaned. From the moment he kissed me in the car to the flirty foreplay at dinner until now had all felt like a fucking eternity.
I was so wound up; I thought I might just orgasm right then and there.
“Relax,” he whispered.
“Easy for you to say; you’re a melter.”
He chuckled against my ear, his hand sliding around my waist. “Just wait. By the end of the night, you’re going to have a vast appreciation for the art of patience.”
A tingle went up my spine as his fingers began slowly pulling up the hemline of my dress, inch by inch. The cool air hit my bare legs as his warm hands spread across my backside.
