“No.” He opens the car door and sits me inside. He slides across the seat and ghosts his fingers along the back of my neck into my hair. “That was because I couldn’t keep my hands off you. Tonight will be because I want you to go to sleep knowing I’ve explored every single inch of your body with my fingers and my tongue. Tonight will be because I want you to go sleep knowing every part of you belongs to me in the most obsessive way possible.”
“I don’t belong to anyone.” I finish on a gasp. His fingers are snaking up the inside of my leg, dangerously close to hitting the apex of my thighs.
“You’re my obsession, Dayton, and I won’t stop until I’m yours. I won’t give up until you belong to me the way I belong to you—wholly.” He traces his tongue along the seam of my lips and his finger along my panties. “I won’t give up until you believe every word of what you said to me this morning.”
“Why?” I whisper. “Why?”
His lips curve against mine like I should know the answer. “Anyone who makes me feel the way you do isn’t someone to give up on. She’s the person you chase until forever ends and keep even longer.”
A lump forms in my throat. How do you reply to that? I don’t know. Every coherent thought except ‘I don’t know’ has left my mind, and I press my lips to his.
I don’t need to ask how I make him feel because I know. I see it when he looks at me and when someone says my name, and f**k it all, I see the very same thing when I look in the mirror and think of it.
It’s that goddamn irresistible love we both carry for one another. The only difference is, he’s embracing it where I’m fighting it. He’s accepting it and basking in it and using it to spur him on. But me? I’m pushing back. I’m not giving in because I know how it hurts.
And I can definitively say I would not survive walking away from him a second time.
And we both know that’s what will happen when we touch back down in Seattle in three weeks.
I banish that thought and let him fold me into his arms. “Now what?”
“Now we go for dinner.”
Chapter Nineteen
Aaron stares at me across the table. His eyes are calculating yet soft at the same time, and the smirk teasing the corners of his lips is disconcerting.
Sometimes I can read him as easily as my favorite romance novel. Other times it’s like trying to get into a crime story where the only romance is the detective and his job. He guards his thoughts and emotions as easily as he lets me see them. I definitely prefer seeing them.
Especially when he looks at me this way. Stripping me bare with his gaze, tearing down any all resistance to him. Like it’s possible to fight for longer than a few days…if you’re lucky.
I’m not lucky.
“Stop looking at me like that.” I stare into my wine.
“I’m thinking.”
“About what?”
“About you. About us.” He takes my hand across the table and threads his fingers through mine. “About how very crazy you drive me.”
“Crazy good or crazy bad?” I raise an eyebrow, bringing my eyes back to his.
“Depends if you’re feeling amicable or not.”
“Kind of.”
“Then right now it’s crazy good.” He pulls my hand up and brushes his lips across my knuckles. “But we know how easily that will change.”
“I think we’re good. As long as you don’t piss me off again.” I shrug.
He laughs and helps me stand. His fingers brush some hair from my face with a gentle touch. “You are the only woman I know who hates having money spent on her.”
I smile. “That’s probably because the women you know are all under the impression they need a man to look after them.”
“And you don’t?” He holds my cardigan as I slip my arms into it.
“I don’t need a man, no.” I glance over my shoulder as we leave the restaurant.
He sweeps me into his arms in one long, elegant movement and tilts my head back with his fingers in my hair. “You need this man.”
“Need is a strong word,” I protest into his kiss. “Don’t go and say something that’ll ruin the crazy good, baby.”
His lips curve against mine as he dips me back. I open my mouth to protest but he covers it with his own, his lips taking me prisoner and making me swallow what I was going to say. He kisses me fully without a care for the fact we’re in the middle of the street and there are people around us. Passionate, tender, meaningful movements of his lips against mine make me grab the collar of his shirt and hold on for dear life.
He rights me slowly, sucking on my bottom lip with each peppered kiss against it. I clench my legs together. He knows that’s the sure way to turn me on. It’s like my bottom lip is connected to my core. Suck it, kiss it, graze it with your teeth and instant desire is ignited in me.
“Aaron,” I scold quietly, slightly out of breath. “We’re in the middle of the street!”
He smirks. “Look around you, Bambi. Do you see anyone pissed off?”
He’s right. There’s no eye-rolling or huffing as they move to the side. Just smile upon smile.
“This is Italy. They’re in love with love. I think it’s a requirement to kiss like that at least once every time you visit.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I can make it one. It can be our own personal requirement.” He leads us through the streets and I roll my eyes.
“Of all the things you could pick, you pick that.”
“I already chose all the things you’re thinking of. I simply haven’t told you yet.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
He spins me into him. “Like tonight you’re mine, completely and utterly, and you still will be after you’re done screaming my name.”
“The screaming is a requirement?” My breath catches in my throat.
“It doesn’t matter if I require you to scream or not, Dayton. We both know you will anyway.”
“Confidence is a good look on you.”
“I’m a confident guy.” He pulls me in front of him and we walk, his hands on my hips. “So much so, I can guarantee if I dipped my fingers inside you right now you’d be ready and waiting for me.”
“There’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance, Mr. Stone.”
He breathes hotly into my ear. “I’m only arrogant when it’s the truth.”