Final Call (The Call #2) (29 page)

It’s definitely in the
crushing way our lips connect.

The softness of his
lips completely contradicts the roughness of his kiss, but the
vigor he tugs my zipper down with is completely in line with it.
Within seconds, the soft material of my dress is sliding down my
body and pooling on the floor at Aaron’s feet.

He pulls back, his
teeth grazing my bottom lip and making my clit throb so intensely
that I moan. He nibbles down my neck, making me arch my body into
him. I tug at the hem of his shirt, and his mouth leaves me for a
split second so he can pull it over his head.

I run my fingers down
his body, tracing every groove on his stomach until I reach the ‘v’
that dips beneath his jeans to the part of his body I’m craving
right now.

His lips across my
breasts, his tongue sliding beneath the cup of my bra to brush
across my nipple, his hot breath cascading across my skin. The
sensations evoked by this, being blindfolded, are unlike anything
I’ve ever felt. It’s so intensely erotic that my skin is humming,
completely alive.

“Look at you,” he
murmurs, trailing his mouth down my stomach. “Who knew you could be
so well-behaved in the bedroom?”

“I can change it.” I
drag my nails down his back, digging into his skin when I reach the
bottom to make my point.

He takes my hands and
spreads my arms to the side on the bed. He kneels, his nose
brushing along my core, and blows lightly on me. I wriggle my hips.
Shit. If my pussy wasn’t aching for him already, it definitely is
now. It’s throbbing, aching, clenching, desperate for his touch.
Any touch.

And then it comes, his
fingers pulling my panties down, and his tongue slowly grazes along
my hot folds. I whimper and push into him, but it doesn’t faze him.
He continues his leisurely pace, exploring every part of me until
finally…
Oh, God, finally…
He presses the tip of his tongue
against my clit and rubs hard, resulting in a firework-like
explosion of pleasure that makes me tremble uncontrollably.

My heart is pounding
dangerously fast, my lungs burning with the force of my rapid
breathing. I feel empty as he releases my legs, and through the
blood roaring in my ears, I hear the pull of his zipper. The moment
the sound of his jeans hitting the floor reaches my ears, the
warmth of his body over mine returns.

It’s accompanied by a
long, smooth thrust inside me. A tug at the back of my head and the
silk tie falls away from my eyes.

I open them and stare
into the striking, lustful blue of Aaron’s. I lift my legs until
they’re wrapped around his waist and tilt my hips up until he’s
buried completely inside me and we’re connected as one.

“I love being inside
you,” he says against my mouth. “The way your hot, wet cunt wraps
around me and hugs me tightly drives me crazy. It makes me want to
drive into you until you’re begging me to slow down. It makes me
want to fuck you so hard you can’t do anything but scream my
fucking name.”

My nails dig into his
back and his name falls from my lips in a desperate whisper. The
man can word-fuck me and penetrate me with those words almost as
deep and as sweetly as he does with his dick.

“Whispering?” He
thrusts into me harder. “I’m fucking you like this and you’re
whispering my name?”

I moan when he pauses
inside me and grabs my chin. He turns my face toward his, demanding
I look at him.

“By the time I’m done
with you, Dayton, whispering will be the last thing you think of.
You’ll be screaming my name so loudly that it’ll be completely
silent.”

“Requirement?” I
breathe, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“You bet your tight
little ass it’s a requirement. If you don’t scream for me every
time I fuck you, I’m not doing it hard enough.”

He silences whatever I
was going to say next with another crushing kiss, his tongue
slipping straight between my lips. He dominates my mouth the way he
dominates my pussy, hard and deep, strong and determined. He pounds
and he sweeps and he teases until my muscles clench around him hard
and I come in a second rush of swamping heat.

Aaron’s own release is
seconds behind mine, and his cock swells inside me as he comes in
hot spurts. His hard kisses slow, turning tender and loving, and he
lowers his body to mine completely.

It’s hard and sweaty
and
so fucking hard,
but I don’t care. I don’t care about
the pressure the weight of him is putting on my chest as I wrap my
arms around him and hold him tight to me.

He pulls his head back
after a long moment of us lying here together and looks me in the
eye. His lips pull up on one side, and he strokes the back of his
fingers down my cheek.

“Happy early birthday,
beautiful woman.”

I cover his hand with
mine and smile. “Thank you, baby. I think it’s my favorite
yet.”

“Yeah?” He rolls to the
side and pulls me on top of him. “Good, ‘cause I’m not done with
you yet.”

Chapter
Twenty-Four

I’ve missed my best
friend.

Since Aaron waltzed
back into my life for a second time, I’ve barely seen her. Now
sitting opposite her, I’m realizing just how much.

It doesn’t matter how
intensely you love or how consuming your relationship is. A girl
still needs her best friend.

Liv tackle-hugs me,
squeezing me until I can’t breathe. “Have you dropped off the face
of the fucking Earth into honeymoon-stage bliss or what?”

“If only,” I laugh,
sitting opposite her in the wine bar.

She slides a glass of
wine across our table and wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, Aaron told me
about all that bullshit. Do I need to claw her eyes out? I just got
my nails done, and these babies are lethal.” She holds her hand up
for me to see, and yes, she is indeed correct.

They’re long, and the
square shape is definitely threatening. At least they would be if
they were coming at your face.

“I’m not saying you
need to, but I am saying I wouldn’t stop you if the opportunity
arises and you feel so inclined.” I smirk.

“Sweet. Now I have
permission. Aaron just looked at me funny.”

“Of course he did. He
doesn’t understand this friendship. Shit, I don’t understand it,
but we’re good.”

She knocks my shin
under the table. “I would do it harder, but since it’s your
birthday, I’m being nice.”

“Oh, gee, thanks.”

“So how is it being a
quarter of a century old? You’re now closer to thirty than twenty.
You old bitch.”

I laugh loudly. “This
will be you in a few weeks, so watch who you’re calling an old
bitch.”

“I’ll always be able to
call you an old bitch, and I’ll do it even when we’re old and grey
and in Seattle’s finest fucking nursing home.”

I don’t doubt it,
except the part about the nursing home. Liv is far too fiery to let
someone wipe her ass, and I tell her as much.

She shrugs. “My new
agent is putting me forward for a big campaign over here in a week
or so. Maybe if I make it big, I’ll hire someone to do it for
me.”

I shake my head with a
small smile that’s threatening to become a grin. Jesus. “Really,
Liv. You don’t need an ass-wiper. You need a boyfriend.”

“Oh yes. Says the woman
who didn’t so much as look at a guy romantically until Mr. Walking
Orgasm exploded into her life.”

“Things change. I
changed. I kind of like love now.” I’d like it a lot more if it
weren’t filled with everything we have to deal with.

“I know. I’m messing
with you, babe.” Liv looks at me honestly, her eyes bright. “Love
suits you. And Aaron is a good guy. He’ll make you happy.”

“He will. He does.” I
blink harshly. “It’s my birthday and I’m not having you make me
cry. That’s no fair. So what are we doing today?”

“We’re going shopping
of course.” She nods toward my half-full glass and lifts hers.
“Down in one go, honey. We have a store or ten to visit, and it’s
on your man.”

I smile and lift the
glass. Of course it’s on Aaron. There’ll be open tabs and closed
stores just for us.

“Come on. Chop chop!
We’re on a time schedule, you know.”

I grab my purse and
follow her out. Of course we are.

***

I collapse back onto
the sofa in Liv’s apartment and swing my feet onto her coffee
table. Our bags are dumped in the middle of her kitchen, in full
view, and I want to cringe a little. There are hundreds of dollars
of clothes and shoes in those bags, nearly all of them mine.

Because my best friend
is as much of an enabler as my boyfriend, apparently.

Liv looks between me
and the bags and grins. “Right. Where’s that dress you bought
early?”

My lips twist. “Which
one?” I ask dryly.

“Ha! That blue one. And
those black heels. Where are they?”

“In the bags.”

“Hilarious. I’ll find
them. Then you’re putting them on.”

I frown, straightening
from my lazy, slouched position. “Why?”

“You didn’t think I was
taking you shopping and not dragging you out, did you? It’s a
Thursday. Come on, babe. We have permission from the big man, so
let’s go.”

“Did you just call my
boyfriend ‘the big man’?”

“Repeating what he
said.” She throws the dress at me and dangles the heels from her
fingers.

We’re having words
about that. In no place, ever, should Aaron refer to himself as
‘the big man.’ Joking or serious. Just, no.

I stand with a sigh and
take the dress into Liv’s room. Honestly, all I want to do is curl
up in front of the TV, cry a little over some goofy movie, and
gorge myself on popcorn and chips and candy. It doesn’t escape my
attention that the last two times I’ve gone for a night out have
been forced on me.

Perils of having a
party-animal best friend.

“Has that guy at work
noticed you yet?” I ask when she rolls her jeans down her legs.

“Jackson? No.” She
pulls her top over her head and strolls to her closet. Yes, she’s
also completely comfortable in her own skin and isn’t afraid to
show her bare ass in a v-string. “And if I undo another button on
my shirt, I’ll be arrested for indecent exposure. Trust me—orange
isn’t my color.”

I straighten the blue
dress against my thighs and smile as she whips a black dress out.
“You’ll figure it out.”

“Eh.” She shrugs,
slinking into her own outfit. “Guys are guys. Eventually he’ll
notice me, but I’ll be locked up with some hot-as-hell guy who
knows how to play my body like a fucking violin.”

And she has a clear
idea of what she wants from life.

Why is she still
single?

I allow her to tease my
hair into a head of curls but put a stop at the makeup. That I will
do myself, thank you.

After an excruciatingly
long hour, both of us are ready and raring to go. We grab our
purses and head down the elevator to the bottom floor, but when we
get there, it’s not a cab waiting.

It’s a fucking
chauffeured car, and the door is being held open.

“What’s going on?” I
turn to my best friend, and the traitorous bitch has secrecy
written all across that smug-ass grin on her face.

“In.” She takes my hand
and pulls me outside, practically shoving me into the car.

The door slams behind
her, and I repeat my question. She grins wider.

This whole day has been
a setup. I’d bet anything Aaron is behind it. What the hell is he
up to now? What in the fricking Hell is even going on?

We drive until we
arrive at the Southfall, and my heart skips several beats. I’m
almost sure it’ll stop beating, and I allow Liv to lead me into the
hotel and to the reception area.

A guy I don’t know is
sitting behind the counter, and he takes one look at us and tells
us to head to the elevator. I follow her blindly, and what the fuck
is happening? What is this? Why am I in a hotel? This isn’t a night
out. This isn’t a girls’ night. I don’t understand. What the
hell?

“Don’t hate me,” Liv
says insincerely, stopping outside the ballroom. Mischief is rife
in her eyes, sparkling dangerously, and I run my tongue along my
top lip.

She pushes open the
door, and I freeze. Everyone. Standing. In front of me.

Monique. Aunt Leigh. Aaron’s parents.
Some
of the girls. More. Everyone. People—everywhere. Lining the walls,
leaning against the bar, sitting at a few tables.

And Aaron.

In the middle of it all
is Aaron. Clad in a tailored suit that hugs him like a second skin,
he turns slowly, his eyes finding mine, and smiles. It’s a slow
smile, one that screams, “Surprise!” and one that warms every part
of me.

“Happy birthday,” Liv
says softly. “And surprise.”

I cover my mouth with
my hand when she lets go, and she steps to the side. Aaron walks
across the ballroom and stops in front of me, his hand taking mine
from my face.

“You did this?” I
whisper, looking up at him.

He nods. “For you.”

I swallow hard, and
with my fingers linked with his, I look around the room, past the
people. To the red-white-and-blue-striped flags dangling over the
bar. To the table cloths in the same color. To the spread of food
along one wall, all French, all my favorite things. To the endless
wine bottles next to it, again all French. To the cake in the shape
of the Eiffel Tower—something that shouldn’t even be fucking
possible.

“What?” I whisper.
“How? Why?”

Aaron rests his hand
against my cheek and turns my face to his. “Because you are the
single most important person in my life, and you deserve nothing
less than the absolute best. You didn’t mention anything about your
birthday and I wanted to give you a day you won’t forget. And the
French theme…” He smiles. “It was a no-brainer, sweetheart.”