The Spanish Love Deception

Aaron grazed my lips with his, the touch barely enough to appease me. “I’m not going to do that.” His voice was husky, bathed in the need I felt washing over my body. “Not now.”

“Why?” I breathed out.

“Because I wouldn’t be able to help myself,” he growled in my ear. He rocked his hips against me once more, pressing me harder against the coarse surface behind my back. “And the first time I’m inside of you, it’s not going to be a quick fuck against a wall.”

I whimpered at his words. At the loss of not having what he

had just painted so clearly in my head. I’d give anything to have him bury himself deep inside me. Perhaps that way, I wouldn’t feel this void in the center of my chest.

His forehead came to rest on top of mine again. Every motion came to a painful stop. “I’d die a happy man if I could make you come right here and now,” Aaron whispered, making me shiver. “But anyone could walk by and see us, and that’s a privilege I want for just myself.”

Sighing, I trailed my fingers through his hair and then around his neck until coming to cup his jaw. Slowly, I came to my senses. “You are right.”

My lips puckered, pouting.

Blue eyes that shone like they had never done before crinkled with a smile. “Look at that,” he said before kissing me firmly. Way too briefly for me to be anywhere satisfied. “I will get foolish, crazy ideas if you start agreeing with me so easily.”

That got my pout to fall just a smidgen, and perhaps a small smile peeked out. And just as I was considering puckering my lips again, remembering how hot and bothered I still was, his head dipped again, and he kissed the remainder of that pout off my face.

“Let’s go. Your family is probably wondering where we are.” He slowly dropped me to the floor. Then, he brushed his fingers over a few strands of hair that had come out of place, the back of his hand grazing my cheek before he stepped back. “Perfect,” he said, looking me up and down.

And the word traveled straight to the middle of my chest.

He offered his hand, and I took it before it hovered in the air for a complete second. I was a needy woman, it seemed. And when it came to Aaron, I’d take from him as much as he was willing to give me. And then perhaps I’d beg for more.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ignited. That was exactly how I felt.

It was what Aaron had done to me. He had lit me up. Unraveled something that, I realized now, had been humming beneath my skin for a long time.

Everything rioting deep inside of me hadn’t been shaped out of just a few moments or an impossibly loud physical connection. What caused this uprising had already been there, buried. I had kept it submerged under the weight of buts, fears, and doubts. Pushed down by my own stubbornness too. But now that it had burst out, resurfacing and streaming out of me, mixed with need and want and something that was exhilarating and absolutely terrifying, I knew that I had reached a point of no return. I wouldn’t be able to push it down, shove it aside, or ignore it any longer.

And I didn’t think I wanted to.

Not after having a taste of what could be mine. And I wasn’t talking just about Aaron’s lips. For the first time since we had landed in Spain, every touch, look, smile, or word was real. After that kiss, every time Aaron grazed my arm with the back of his hand, it was because he wanted to. Every time he brushed a kiss on my shoulder, it was because he wasn’t capable of helping himself. And every time he gathered me close and whispered something in my ear, it wasn’t because my family was looking and we had a role to play. It was because he wanted me to hear how beautiful he thought I looked and how lucky he felt to have me in his arms.

We danced for hours, this time with nothing hanging over our heads, and I kissed that smile that was only for me. More than once. I simply couldn’t help myself.

Tonight, I had decided I’d stay in our bubble and deal with what awaited in New York when we got there. Tonight was ours.

Aaron closed the door of the room behind him, and I couldn’t help but stare at him from my position at the end of the bed. We had just gotten to the apartment, and I had decided to give a rest to my wobbly legs and hurting feet while he fetched some water from the kitchen.

One of his arms was behind his back, making me tilt my head with curiosity. He smiled, and when he revealed what was in his hand, I almost screamed at him to stop going after my poor, weak heart. Because it wouldn’t survive.

A doughnut, glazed and filled with chocolate cream. They had served them as a snack late in the night. And I had probably eaten more than I should have.

“Aaron Blackford,” I said, feeling as if something were being squashed in the middle of my chest. “Did you smuggle doughnuts out of the wedding in your pocket?”

His smile turned into a grin. A bashfully, unassumingly handsome grin. And my poor heart squeezed some more. “I knew you’d be hungry.”

“I am,” I admitted, my voice sounding all wrong. “Thank you.”

He strode across the room and placed the doughnut on a napkin on top of the dresser. I took the chance to tell my heart to chill the hell out before it was too late and we both went down.

Aaron turned, as if he knew I needed one more minute to gather myself. But instead of doing that, I gawked at his back. Watched how he shed himself of his suit jacket and delicately placed it on the only chair in the room. Dangerous thoughts started piling up in my head, traveling to the bottom of my stomach. When Aaron finally faced me, just as he was undoing the knot of his tie, those dangerous, reckless thoughts were probably displayed all over my face.

Our gazes connected, and an uncontrollable blush rose up my neck, reaching my cheeks. Ironic, how I had been devouring his lips hours ago, and now, a simple look turned me inside out.