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Chapter Eight
“It’s not a pissing contest,” Luna said with a glower. She picked up her bag of clothes. “I’m going to have a shower.”
“If you want your body lathered in soap, let me know.”
“I’m all good, thank you,” she said drily, then stepped into her bathroom wishing for exactly that. His big hands were adept at not just creating orgasms, though she had no doubt that is what would happen sometime after he soaped her up.
Isn’t that what you want?
She turned the shower to cold and tried not to think sexual thoughts as she scrubbed her body until she was red raw. After stepping out of the shower and drying off, she selected a casual pair of white three-quarter length pants and matched it with a blue and white striped top. Placing her spare clothes bag into the corner of Aiden’s walk-in closet, she brushed out her wet hair.
She was tempted to straighten it, just to piss Aiden off. He’d always loved her corkscrew hair. He said it matched her wildness, her contrast to those women with their tamed and restrained, boring straight hair.
A tread sounded behind her as Aiden filled the walk-in closet doorway. “Feel like going for a walk?”
She shrugged, trying not to notice his bare chest, and the bulge in his sweats that tempted her beyond reason. “Sure,” she said, her voice cracking.
His grin was lopsided. “Great. I’ll get changed into something cooler.”
As he grabbed some board shorts and a plain white T-shirt, he added, “If you have some bikinis in there, put them on underneath your clothes. It will be beautiful in the ocean today. I’ll grab some towels.”
She riffled through the bag, surprised to find there was indeed a pair of bikinis along with some other extra bits and pieces. That the aqua and white striped swimwear were barely big enough to cover her breasts wasn’t surprising. Bernard had probably hoped to see her in them.
She blew out a breath as she pulled them on and then slipped her clothes back over the top. She’d known living with him, even with their odd schedules, was a bad idea. She’d fallen into the better the devil you know standard, and had imagined he was the good guy and perhaps she could be with him, even short term.
Seeing him today, then comparing him to Aiden, had put that idea to rest. He was nowhere near her ideal man. She’d been a fool to imagine otherwise.
Not that Aiden was in that category, either. He might be magic in bed and drool-worthy to look at, but he was hardly boyfriend material. He was more like a drug she couldn’t quite get out of her system. He was bad for her, but she loved the high she got whenever he was near.
She was slipping on a pair of canvas shoes when he returned, a pair of towels slung around his neck. “Ready?” he asked, his dark gaze filled with approval at seeing the imprint of her bikini top under her top.
She nodded. “Ready.”
Ten minutes later, his big hand clasping hers, they walked through the ex-warehouse building and outside. The traffic wasn’t bad on a Sunday, and she enjoyed their stroll along the sidewalk past townhouses and retail storefronts.
The midmorning sun was beaming down on them when they did a left turn at traffic lights, waited for the green walk sign to glow, then strolled another four blocks before the scent of salty ocean air announced they were close to the beach.
Aiden glanced at her. “I should have found you a hat.”
She nodded. “If I’d known the beach was in my itinerary I would have asked Bernard to bring my big straw one.”
