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“Yeah, just a couple of things we need to discuss. You staying a bit longer or you want to come back with me?”
My knee is starting to ache, and sticking around means Tristan can grill me. I don’t want to do something stupid, like actually confide in the guy. And being this close to Aurora without putting my hands on her, kissing her, is pushing me to the edge. The wave of guilt is more than I can deal with. I’m screwed all the way around. “I’m ready to go,” I say, though it’s not really true.
We say our good nights and leave Tristan, Flip, and Dallas to watch over the girls. Roman tells Aurora to text him when she’s home. He passes out on the ride back to our place, probably because of the bourbon. He’s bleary eyed on the ride up to the penthouse, mumbling good night as he lets himself into his place.
I feed Postie and Malone as soon as I walk through the door. Then I hit the shower and whack off to thoughts of Aurora, feeling guilty as fuck when I come. I change into a T-shirt and joggers, turn on the TV, grab an ice pack, and sit on the couch, flipping channels until I find the news. Postie kneads my legs until he deems them appropriately tenderized, while Malone humps his blanket and I scroll through social media, checking Hemi’s feed. Half an hour ago, she posted a picture of her and the girls at the Pancake House across the street.
Rix will stay at Tristan’s tonight. Aurora’s probably home by now. I war with myself to stay where I am. To not give in. To not be weak.
CHAPTER 22
HOLLIS
Ilose the battle to stay on my couch where I belong and grab my fob. I’m not thinking about consequences as I step into the elevator and push the button for Aurora’s floor. If she doesn’t answer, I’ll go back to my place, jerk off again, and go to bed.
But she does.
The door only opens a few inches because the safety latch is engaged. She’s still wearing the princess dress. “Hollis?” She looks up at the latch. “You better not be here to give me a speech about why what I did on the dance floor was a bad idea. No one could see me.”
I shake my head. “That’s not why I’m here.” Of course that’s what she thinks. It’s what I’ve done every single time I’ve lost control—let her feel like she’s responsible for my inability to handle myself around her. It’s her way. To own things that aren’t hers. I need to remember that.
“Hold on.” She closes the door and opens it all the way. “Is everything okay?”
I grip the jamb. “Yeah. No. I don’t know.” I close my eyes for a second. “You can tell me to go.”
“It’s okay.” Her expression softens, and she steps back. “Do you want to come in?”
“Is Rix at Tristan’s?” I’m teetering on the edge. Rix being here would save me from making more decisions I can’t undo.
“For the night, yeah.”
I’m still standing in the doorway, still trying to do the right fucking thing. I should tell her I wanted to make sure she made it home okay and leave. I shouldn’t complicate her life like this. I want her to turn me away; I want her to ask me to stay more.
She gently pries my fingers from the jamb. “Please come in.”
The wave of relief is damning. I cross the threshold, and she closes the door behind me, locks it, and re-engages the safety latch.
“Talk to me.”
And despite everything I’ve put her through these past weeks, she strokes the edge of my jaw, her touch tender, and exactly the balm I need. “Not being able to touch you, kiss you, be near you is torture.”
Her breath leaves her on a surprised exhale, and she moves closer, until our bodies almost touch. “I’m right here.”
I cup her cheek in my palm, the contact electrifying and soothing. “Is this okay?”
“Of course it’s okay. This is what I’ve been waiting for.” Her fingers drift along the side of my neck. “Aching for.”
“You look so beautiful tonight. Staying away from you is wrecking me.” I brush my lips over hers, and like the first time, my entire body breaks out in a wave of goose bumps.
Aurora spears her hands into my hair and tips her head, parting her lips for me as I stroke inside. I mean for it to be soft, but the moment our tongues meet, we both groan. It’s weeks of pent-up tension, desire, and need colliding. Hunger takes hold, and the desire to devour, own, and claim rules me.
I spin her around, pressing her against the door. My good knee finds its way between her thighs, and she rolls her hips on a wanton moan. It shouldn’t feel this good, this right. But God help me, I want her, want to watch her unravel for me again, want the sound of my name on her lips when she comes. Want is all I am when I’m near her.
The kiss grows frantic, heated, volcanic. One of Aurora’s hands leaves my hair and moves over my shoulder, fingertips gliding down to my forearm. She moves it to cup her breast, arching into the touch as she rubs herself on my thigh.
“Please, Hollis,” she whimpers as she finds the hem of my shirt and eases a hand up my side. My skin burns in the wake of her touch.
I can’t get to her breast without doing damage to her dress, so I skim the curve of her hip until I reach her thigh, which is hooked around my leg. I slide up and under, squeeze her bare ass, and run my hand back down until I reach the bend in her knee. I tug, but she’s determined to stay wrapped around me, possibly trying to get herself off on my thigh with the way she’s riding it.
