are
curved into a smirk, and his eyes are sparkling.
“Those shorts are
practically underwear,” he says, a hint of huskiness coming through
his voice.
“Tell that to
Victoria’s Secret.” I tap his arm and he drops it, allowing me to
step by him.
“Believe me,
sweetheart. I have no plans to tell Victoria’s Secret a damn
thing.”
I glance over my
shoulder, and his gaze is fixed firmly on my butt. I roll my eyes
and pull the fridge open. “I didn’t think you would.” My eyes skirt
across the shelves. “Why is your fridge half empty? And why is none
of the food in it actually edible?”
I shut the door again
and turn. He leans forward on the bar, bent at the waist. The
muscles in his arms flex, and I blink harshly to pull my own gaze
from his body. Jesus. The man awakens some kind of crazy primal
attraction inside me that means I’m addicted to staring at his
body.
“Because,” he says with
amusement, “I don’t eat much at home. If I’m not out for dinner,
I’m ordering something at the office. Keeping edible food at home
seems pointless when it’ll merely rot.”
“And I suppose you
never factored in the fact I might want to eat.”
He raises an
eyebrow.
“Well, for someone so
presumptuous and certain of everything, I would have thought he’d
have prepared for my basic needs.”
“I was more focused on
your other basic needs.” His eyes flick to my hips and back up
again.
“They’re not basic
needs. They’re extracurricular needs.”
“This is where men and
women differ, Dayton. To me, exploring your body and making you
come in my arms is absolutely a basic need.”
“For you.” I turn and
swallow, grabbing an empty glass from the cupboard. “Food is a
basic need for me.”
“So I’ll order in.”
His cell rings on his
words.
“Hello? Mom… No, no, I
didn’t forget. I just, uh, I have company… Yes, Dayton’s here...
Yes, I know.”
I spin back, and his
face is creased into a pained expression. I can hear the buzz of
his mom’s voice on the other end of the line, and by the way
Aaron’s bringing his shoulder to his ear in an extended wince, I’d
guess she’s giving him a few choice words.
“Mom… Okay, hang on.”
He covers the mouthpiece and mouths, “Fuck,” with his eyes closed.
After a quiet sigh, he opens his eyes again and looks at me.
“Dayton, my mother would like to know if you’d care to join us for
dinner tonight.”
“I don’t want to
intrude.” I bring my glass to my lips in an attempt to hide my
teasing smile.
Aaron catches it
anyway. “You could never intrude. In fact, I think Mom would love
it if you’d join us.”
“In that case, I’d be
happy to.”
He brings the phone
back to his ear. “Add another reservation. I’ll see you in an
hour.”
I watch as he places
the cell facedown and rubs a hand down his face.
“Fuck. I forgot they
were here this weekend.”
“Gosh, Aaron, I can
feel your delight from here.”
He looks at me flatly.
“Tonight will be close to hell for me. In fact, it’s probably
better you’re there. Then they’ll be a little politer.”
I follow him into his
bedroom, leaving the glass on the bar. “Why wouldn’t they be?”
Almost as soon as the
words leave my mouth, I realize. Our situation is awkward to say
the least.
“Mom made it clear from
day one that she didn’t like Naomi—and she wouldn’t try to either.
You, however, have always been somewhat of a golden girl in her
eyes. So naturally, when she learned of the events in Paris, I
transported to the top of her shit list.”
I cover my mouth with
my hand. Shit list. Hearing such a juvenile term from him amuses me
so much. It’s so out of line with his usual composed speech.
“That’s because your
mom obviously has good taste.” I drop onto the bed tummy-first and
prop my chin on my hands. Aaron emerges from his closet, minus his
jeans, and my mouth goes dry.
Holy shit, the man cuts
a fine figure in those boxers. I can’t decide
curved into a smirk, and his eyes are sparkling.
“Those shorts are
practically underwear,” he says, a hint of huskiness coming through
his voice.
“Tell that to
Victoria’s Secret.” I tap his arm and he drops it, allowing me to
step by him.
“Believe me,
sweetheart. I have no plans to tell Victoria’s Secret a damn
thing.”
I glance over my
shoulder, and his gaze is fixed firmly on my butt. I roll my eyes
and pull the fridge open. “I didn’t think you would.” My eyes skirt
across the shelves. “Why is your fridge half empty? And why is none
of the food in it actually edible?”
I shut the door again
and turn. He leans forward on the bar, bent at the waist. The
muscles in his arms flex, and I blink harshly to pull my own gaze
from his body. Jesus. The man awakens some kind of crazy primal
attraction inside me that means I’m addicted to staring at his
body.
“Because,” he says with
amusement, “I don’t eat much at home. If I’m not out for dinner,
I’m ordering something at the office. Keeping edible food at home
seems pointless when it’ll merely rot.”
“And I suppose you
never factored in the fact I might want to eat.”
He raises an
eyebrow.
“Well, for someone so
presumptuous and certain of everything, I would have thought he’d
have prepared for my basic needs.”
“I was more focused on
your other basic needs.” His eyes flick to my hips and back up
again.
“They’re not basic
needs. They’re extracurricular needs.”
“This is where men and
women differ, Dayton. To me, exploring your body and making you
come in my arms is absolutely a basic need.”
“For you.” I turn and
swallow, grabbing an empty glass from the cupboard. “Food is a
basic need for me.”
“So I’ll order in.”
His cell rings on his
words.
“Hello? Mom… No, no, I
didn’t forget. I just, uh, I have company… Yes, Dayton’s here...
Yes, I know.”
I spin back, and his
face is creased into a pained expression. I can hear the buzz of
his mom’s voice on the other end of the line, and by the way
Aaron’s bringing his shoulder to his ear in an extended wince, I’d
guess she’s giving him a few choice words.
“Mom… Okay, hang on.”
He covers the mouthpiece and mouths, “Fuck,” with his eyes closed.
After a quiet sigh, he opens his eyes again and looks at me.
“Dayton, my mother would like to know if you’d care to join us for
dinner tonight.”
“I don’t want to
intrude.” I bring my glass to my lips in an attempt to hide my
teasing smile.
Aaron catches it
anyway. “You could never intrude. In fact, I think Mom would love
it if you’d join us.”
“In that case, I’d be
happy to.”
He brings the phone
back to his ear. “Add another reservation. I’ll see you in an
hour.”
I watch as he places
the cell facedown and rubs a hand down his face.
“Fuck. I forgot they
were here this weekend.”
“Gosh, Aaron, I can
feel your delight from here.”
He looks at me flatly.
“Tonight will be close to hell for me. In fact, it’s probably
better you’re there. Then they’ll be a little politer.”
I follow him into his
bedroom, leaving the glass on the bar. “Why wouldn’t they be?”
Almost as soon as the
words leave my mouth, I realize. Our situation is awkward to say
the least.
“Mom made it clear from
day one that she didn’t like Naomi—and she wouldn’t try to either.
You, however, have always been somewhat of a golden girl in her
eyes. So naturally, when she learned of the events in Paris, I
transported to the top of her shit list.”
I cover my mouth with
my hand. Shit list. Hearing such a juvenile term from him amuses me
so much. It’s so out of line with his usual composed speech.
“That’s because your
mom obviously has good taste.” I drop onto the bed tummy-first and
prop my chin on my hands. Aaron emerges from his closet, minus his
jeans, and my mouth goes dry.
Holy shit, the man cuts
a fine figure in those boxers. I can’t decide
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