Page 120 of First-Time Caller
AIDEN VALENTINE:What?
LUCIE STONE:The cookie. Just there. Yes, exactly.
AIDEN VALENTINE:Sure.
LUCIE STONE:And some more coffee too, please. [laughter]
AIDEN VALENTINE:No problem.
AIDEN VALENTINE:You’ve got a whole list of demands tonight, don’t you?
LUCIE STONE:I’ve always been good at asking for what I want.
AIDEN VALENTINE:[throat clearing]
AIDEN VALENTINE:That’s, uh. That’s important.
LUCIE STONE:I mean. Sometimes. Not always.
AIDEN VALENTINE:Right.
LUCIE STONE:I feel like we should move on to something else.
AIDEN VALENTINE:I think so.
Lucie watches me carefully, her fingers tracing light patterns at the base of my skull. It’s distracting, but not as distracting as the words that just came out of her mouth.
“If I don’t mind,” I repeat.
“Yes.” Her other hand cups the side of my face, fingers spread wide against my jaw. “That’s what I would like.”
“Yeah, I don’t mind.” I clear my throat and then clear it again. “Okay.”
Her eyebrows quirk up. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay. Good.” Maybe I’ll be able to string together a proper sentence in a few minutes, but I certainly can’t right now. “Let’s—I can do that.”
“Yeah?”
I nod and shift the hand I have on her back until my palm is pressed tight to the middle of her spine. “Yeah. Come here.”
She laughs as I shift her until she’s balanced in my lap, her thighs at my hips and her arms draped over my shoulders. It’s almost exactly the same way we were in the closet, except there’s no one to interrupt us this time and I can see the way her mouth drops open when she feels how I’m already half-hard beneath her.
I lean up and suck roughly at her bottom lip. She makes a groaning sound that settles somewhere in the pit of my stomach, and I tilt my head so I can kiss her properly.
She melts over my lap, her body loose and relaxed as our mouths work together, her knees tipping wider until we’re tucked together from hip to chest. I still can’t believe I get to touch her like this. That she wants it. I slip one hand in the back pocket of her jeans to palm her ass and use the other to cup her face, pressing my thumb to her chin so I can drag her mouth open against mine.
I can feel myself getting lost. In the wet heat of her mouth and the smooth roll of her hips against mine. I flex my fingers against her ass and guide her against me, doing my best to work a series of marks along her neck. I hope the next time she slips into her coveralls at the shop, my bruise is right above her collar. I hope she sees it every time she looks in the mirror. I hope other people see it. I’m possessive of this woman that I don’t get to keep.
Two hands fist in my hair. “Aiden,” she breathes. “What doyouwant?”
I laugh against her skin.
“When it comes to you, Lucie”—I suck at the dip between her collarbones—”there’s not much I don’t want.”
She tugs at my hair some more and I finally relent, dropping my head against my cushionless couch to watch her face. She traces her thumbs over my cheekbones, across my jaw, and down my neck. Her fingers dance up and down my skin and her eyes follow.
For the first time, I entertain the possibility that Lucie might want me as much as I want her.
