Page 69 of Eight Weeks
He nods with a smirk. “You’re an awful liar, Icicle.” Aaron lays the palm of his hand right over my heart, his eyes holding mine. “Your heart’s always betraying you. It beats faster when you lie, and you get these guilt-filled eyes. One side of your lip twitches for a short second, and often times, you close your eyes to take a deep breath before lying.”
“I hate you.”
His mouth crashes down to mine, bringing back unwanted butterflies. “Liar,” he whispers.
“I didn’t lie.”I did.
“Mhm.” His hands travel down my body, stopping by my hips. “So, if I snuck my hand underneath your skirt, I wouldn’t find you wet at all?”
I shake my head. “No.” His eyes dare me to challenge him, waiting for my consent to touch me. Suddenly I remember one text Aaron received a couple of days ago, a perfect way to challenge him. “You wouldn’t even dare to touch me if I begged you.”
He winks, then in the blink of an eye, he turns me around. My palms pressing against the wood as he pushes my legs a little further apart, enough to sneak a hand underneath my skirt.
The tips of his fingers gaze my panties, a soft shiver running through my body. I can hear his heavy breathing, hot air blowing on my neck. He wastes no time to gently push my panties aside, sliding his fingers through my slick folds.
I can hear a low groan coming from him, his head dipping down until his mouth is close to my ear. “You’re a little liar, Icicle.” His voice is raspy, whispery, I could die hearing his voice.
A moan escapes me as one finger sinks inside me, and it takes all my willpower not to hit my head against the wood in front of me.
His erection presses against my lower back, an instant wave of lust washing over me at the feeling. Truthfully, I’ve never been one to find the feeling of a dick hot, but everything seems to be different with Aaron.
“Can you feel what you do to me?” he asks, pressing his hips a bit harder against my body.
A satisfies grunt leaves him when I nod in response.
As Aaron pushes yet another finger inside me, I lean my head against the wooden wall, not caring whether this might get me a splinter or not. All I truly care about is the ever-growing desire to come and the sudden heat that my body is met with.
“Tell me how badly you want to come,” he says in a low tone, planting a kiss behind my ear.
I don’t answer, but instead I moan a little breathlessly.
“You need to answer me, love.”
If only words were still present in my head. “Please,” I manage to spit out, desperate.
Hearing a soft, breathy chuckle coming from Aaron is almost as hot as his raspy morning voice. And believe me, I’ve been trying my very best not to cry of desperation every single morning since we’ve come here. Now, I no longer have to pretend that either of those doesn’t turn me on. Because they fucking do.
It isn’t until I hear a woman’s laughter that I’m reminded of Aaron and my surroundings.
“Aaron,” I force out, “we’re in public.”
“So?”
“Anyone could see us.”
His fingers pull out of me, the loss being awfully disappointing. Why do we have to be outside, surrounded by hundreds of people? We could have had something really good—
Aaron turns me back around, pressing my back into the wall. His mouth comes down to mine, yet our lips don’t meet. “What? You’re scared of getting caught?”
“Kind of.” Am I though? What’s supposed to happen?
Someone will see us, big deal. Like they’ve never opened Google to watch some porn. Now, they’d see it in person. Lucky them.
Aaron is about to take a step back, clearly validating my decision. And, fuck, does it feel great knowing he respects my choices, unlike a certain ex-boyfriend.
“Actually, no. I’m not scared of getting caught.”
He halts, looking into my eyes. The light shining on us from the lamppost that’s good thirty-two foot away illuminates his face, highlighting all the right curves and makes him look five times as handsome as he is. “You sure?”
