Page 25 of Camera Chemistry
I laugh and shake my head. “No. You’ll have to forgive me for not having things organized. Ignore the dishes in the sink and the swimsuit hanging from the door handle down the hall.”
“I didn’t come over to count how many categories of towels you have in your linen closet.”
“You didn’t? Why did you come over, Maggie?”
The moment shifts. The brief stint of awkward conversation wanes. There’s a spark in the air now. Before I can blink, before I can take a breath, before I can ask another question, Maggie launches herself at me. I’m ready and anticipate her attack with open arms. I catch her, and her legs wrap around my waist. It’s soul-crushing, nearly suffocating, but who the fuck needs oxygen anyway when I can survive solely on the taste of her lips against mine?
I move us, blindly stumbling through the living room until her back collides with the window overlooking the city below.
“Is it crazy to say I missed you?” she whispers. Her head tilts, resting against the glass. I take advantage of the angle, my lips working away from her mouth down her throat. I find the patch of skin I got a sample of earlier and have been craving since she’s been gone.
“No,” I grind out. “I missed you, too.” I bunch her dress at her waist. My grip changes, cupping her ass with both of my hands. Her cheeks are warm under my touch, incredibly smooth like the rest of her body. The swell of her backside fits perfectly in my palms, and a hint of lace teases my knuckles. I groan, nipping at her neck, below the shell of her ear. “I really fucking missed you.”
She kisses me again, tongue dancing with mine. I palm her breast, massaging it with my hand. Maggie moans, her thighs squeezing tightly around me. Her fingers work under the waistband of my joggers, and I rock my hips forward, hoping she can feel how hard I already am for her.
“Aiden?” she whispers. “Is something burning?”
“Shoot.” I pull us away from the wall and slide Maggie down my body. “Be right back.”
I hustle to the kitchen, shove on some oven mitts, and pull out the garlic bread. A waft of smoke rushes my face, and I bat it away. Half of the loaf is burnt, but the other is salvageable.
“You made dinner.” Maggie slides onto one of the barstools, watching me move around the kitchen.
“I’m trying to. Sorry about the smell.” I open the window over the sink a quarter of an inch. “I was distracted.”
“I’ll take the blame. What are you making? Can I help with anything?”
“Spaghetti and meatballs. I hear it’s a favorite.”
“Aiden,” she whispers. She jumps off the leather and walks to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. “You made that for me?”
I shrug and hold her waist, hoping I didn’t overdo it. “Yeah. It’s not a big deal. Full disclosure: The meatballs are frozen and the sauce is from a jar. Don’t judge my cooking based on the limited time I had to get ready.”
She laughs and kisses me softly. I run my hand up her back, between the her shoulder blades, ending at the nape of her neck. My fingers curl, giving her a gentle squeeze. “I’m sure it’ll taste great.”
“Do you want something to drink? Beer? Wine? Water? We never got to the beverage preferences in our game.”
“Gin and tonic is my go-to, but water is perfect.”
I release her, regrettably, and pour a glass from the fridge. “The pasta is finished. Give me two minutes, and we can eat.”
“Take your time. Watching a man cook is sexy.” Maggie’s gaze catches on the vase full of red, pink, and yellow poppies. “Oh, those are beautiful.”
“Those are for you.”
“For me?” she squeaks.
“I picked them up on the way home. There’s a guy down the road who sells them. They were too nice to pass up. Might as well lean into the whole Valentine’s Day cliché.”
Her eyes soften. “You’re my favorite one-night stand ever, Aiden, and we haven’t had sex yet. Thank you.”
I reach over and give her hip a squeeze. I’m tempted to lift her dress and sink to my knees. I want to kiss the spot above the waistband of her underwear, then the inside of her thigh. “You’re very welcome. Hope I can keep the title the rest of the night. Ready to eat?”
“God, yeah. Those crackers today were hardly enough food. I’m famished.”
“C’mon. Food. Dessert. Bedroom. In that order.”
“I recall someone promising to eat me out on the counter. Does the offer still stand?” She gives me a wink. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and her hips sway as she walks back to her chair.
