Bad Boy Ink (Get Ink'd #5) - Ali Lyda Page 0,49
noticed that Aiden put his napkin in his lap with the kind of easy, thoughtless movements that came from growing up in a house where things like that mattered. I thought again about his father, so angry and so certain that appearances were more important than people. And his mother, who I'd never spoken to, but clearly didn't feel the need to defend her son.
Aiden dug in, cutting his steak up into perfect bite-sized pieces and primly dragging it through the gravy and mashed potatoes before lifting it to his mouth. When he took a bite, his eyes squeezed shut and he chewed slowly.
“This is fucking good,” Aiden said with his mouth still half-full.
My cock twitched, my eyes unable to move from his lips. I took a sip of wine. I set the glass down too hard and it sloshed on the table. Aiden turned his attention to me, his eyes twinkling. He picked up his glass and tipped it slightly toward me, a mock salute.
Frustrated, I stuffed a too-big bite in my mouth and promptly had to chew like a moronic cow for what felt like forever.
Cool as a cucumber, Aiden continued to take methodical bites, putting on a show of each one, even going so far as to groan. He was playing with me like a cat plays with a mouse. Me, who was so used to being a tiger.
I dropped my fork. Twice. My fingers felt fat and like they belonged to someone else. My heart was racing like I was running a marathon instead of eating dinner. This was my house, my ground, but Aiden was throwing me wickedly off my game.
Fighting my attraction to Aiden had long been part of the game. The stakes had been set early on: the job at the FBI.
Somewhere along the way, though, the rules had changed and the goal had shifted. Before, Aiden had been someone in the way. Now, he was...well, he was clearly someone I was attracted to. And, I felt, a friend. If I got the job, what did that mean for him?
If he got the job, what would I do?
The underlying sexual current between us had heightened the danger. If we were actually connecting, then the risk of losing became much larger. It became an either/or: lose the job or lose the man. An impossible situation.
But apparently things like ‘impossible’ and ‘risk’ meant nothing to my cock, which was so hard it hurt. Impossible didn’t care about the tightness in my belly when I looked at Aiden, or the way desire unspooled within me.
I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him stupid, and touch him, and find the spots on his body that made him crazy with lust when touched. And I was beginning to want it so badly that I was considering risking everything to have it.
Aiden cleared his throat and I startled in my seat. His lips were pressed as if he were trying not to laugh at me. When he tilted his head to the side, I prepared myself for him to mock me, or say a cutting remark. Teasing would be safer territory for us both, though I had no idea if he was wrestling with Herculean strength against his primal self like I was at the moment.
“You're attracted to me.” Aiden spoke with such assuredness. Telling me how I felt instead of asking.
I licked my lips. “Hell, yes, I’m attracted to you.” I played with my fork, spinning it on the table, and then upped the ante. “Insanely attracted, if I'm going to be honest. You have no idea the things I've dreamt about doing with you. If...if you’re interested.”
Aiden’s sharp inhalation was as close to a siren song as I’d ever heard. His flush was creeping up from the collar of his polo shirt, and I wanted to trace its journey with my tongue.
I was scared that he’d say yes. But what would I do if he said no?
Aiden’s smile was timid but his eyes were liquid heat. “I’m attracted to you, too.”
I chewed on my lower lip for a moment before pushing. “Yeah? Do you think of me, too? Of what we could do?”
“I think about that kiss at the store all of the time. I think about how good your mouth felt on mine, and where else I’d like to feel your mouth. So yes, I definitely imagine what you might be able to do to me.”
My dick was achingly hard, and my balls felt