Page 140 of That Rush

His palm moves over the reddened skin of my ass. The touch is gentle now.

“How does that feel?”

“Sore.”

“Bad sore?”

I test the sting and the deeper ache between my thighs. “No.”

He presses a kiss to the place he struck. “Tell me if that changes.”

“I will.”

Aiden carries me back to bed despite my insistence that my legs still work. This time, he returns with a warm cloth and cleans me carefully, his touch gentle over every sensitive place. Then he brings me water and waits until I drink.

When he stretches out beside me, I curl against his chest.

He places the special edition within reach.

“Well?” he asks.

“Demanding an immediate reader review is unethical.”

“I want your evaluation.”

“You improvised.”

“I improved.”

“Insufferable.”

“And still right.”

I laugh and roll onto my side. “Reality won.”

A slow, unbearably satisfied smile spreads across his face. “I expected it would.”

“The fictional version still deserves credit.”

“For giving you the idea.”

“You are very competitive.”

“You compared me to another man.”

“A fictional man.”

“I’ve explained my position.”

I trace one finger over his chest. “It was better because you listened. You let me decide what I wanted, and when I shifted, you followed.”

His hand settles against my hip. “That was the point.”

“It was better because it was real.” My throat tightens around the rest. “Because it was you.”

Aiden goes still beneath my hand.

The word appears in my mind so quickly that I can’t push it away.