The Hustle (Irreparable 4) - Page 67

When Brady comes over to see what the fuss is about, I leave Aidan and go outside where Liv and Tori are sitting at a picnic table with the kids. They’re making puppets out of paper bags with an assortment of craft materials, like yarn and googly eyes.

“Join us,” Liv offers, scooting over and making room for me to sit down.

I sit between her and Camilia who glues yellow yarn to her puppet for hair. “Look, it’s you,” she says, holding her puppet up. “Only you’re prettier.”

“Aw, thank you,” I say with a smile, feeling my eyes moisten.

Tori hands me a bag and I pick up a crayon to draw a face. As the afternoon slips away among giggles and laughter, I understand exactly what this place means to Aidan and his family, and not just the ones he’s blood related to. The Hunter family essentially adopted every one of these kids. They’re home.

Javier is spending the night with Drew. Aidan and I rarely have moments completely alone and sex is usually something we sneak in when Javier sleeps. The job in Carlsbad I’ve been overwhelmed with for the last week has exhausted me. By the time I get home, I collapse.

After a week without sex, Aidan attacked me the moment we walked in the door earlier, which lead to sex on the floor in the foyer. As his hands and lips move all over me while I try to cook dinner, I know earlier wasn’t enough for him. It wasn’t for me either, but I’m starving.

“Turn off the stove,” he growls in my ear.

I turn in his arms to face him. “Since I’m sure you plan to keep me up all night, we need to eat.”

“Sustenance is overrated. We need to fuck.” I shake my head, laughing as I turn back to the stove. His hands slip into my shirt and he massages my breasts. “I’ll be quick.”

“Just what every girl wants to hear, Romeo,” I tell him, flicking water from my glass over my shoulder at him.

“Oh, you want to play?”

I shrug, keeping my back to him as I stir the pasta sauce.

A second later, I shriek as ice-cold water soaks my back. I turn and get sprayed in the face by a laughing Aidan as he holds the sprayer from the sink at the island behind him.

“Stop,” I yell, fighting through the streams of water to grab the sprayer. I struggle to reach it, but refuse to give up. After a second, he returns it to the sink, fighting me off with his forearm as he turns off the water.

“That’s better,” he says all throaty, looking at my breasts.

My nipples show perfectly through my white, soaked T-shirt.

“You’re so gonna get it.” He shoots to the other side of the island when I grab the glass of water from the counter.

When I make a move toward him, he circles around the other side. “You mad, baby?”

“Stop moving and you’ll find out.” He laughs, circling the island again as I dart around and fail to reach him. I stare him down. “I ran track in high school. Two-time state champ in the forty. I will catch you.”

The smile slides off his lips as he rounds the corner surrendering. “No reason to let you chase me, when I want you to catch me.”

I make my way slowly to him. He doesn’t move as the water pours down his face from the glass I hold above his head. I set the glass on the counter, unsure if I should be laughing or terrified at his lack of reaction.

“I always want you to catch me,” he says, water raining down his serious face.

He picks me up into his arms. I lock my feet behind his hips and kiss his neck. He holds me up as he turns off the stove before carrying me to our bedroom.

I’m placed gently on the fluffy comforter. “I can’t wait to marry you, Peyton Miles,” he confesses in a low voice. “I will love you forever.”

Water drips from his hair, landing on my face as he covers my body with his. I lift my head, sealing our lips together. The kiss is wet and slippery, slow and sensual. Will it always feel so incredible to kiss him? Knowing Aidan, it will only get better.

His lips leave mine as they work their way down my neck. I’m overwhelmed by his words replaying in my mind. I’m going to be his wife. “Oh, God!” I cry out as he draws my nipple into his mouth.

“You know what I love most about you?” he asks, lifting his head to look at me.

“My boobs?”

“No, nothing sexual.”

Tags: K.J. Bell Irreparable Romance
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