Billion Dollar Stranger - Stephanie Brother Page 0,48

around his chest and hand clasped to the side of his face. "Nicole," he rasps against my mouth. "Fuck."

He comes hard, seizing so tightly, face screwed up as though it hurts. He doesn't stop thrusting through the whole thing, as though he wants to extract absolutely every ounce of pleasure he can, or is trapped within the need to release more than just his orgasm. His breathing is so ragged it chafes at my heart. "It's okay," I soothe. "It's okay, baby. Let it go."

Aaron stays above me, even as he softens, face pressed into my neck. My sweat cools, but I don't move, just hold him to me and stroke his back. Eventually, he lifts his hips slightly, so his cock slips from me. I feel a trickle of wetness between my legs and register that he hasn't used a condom. I'm on the pill, but it's stupid, regardless. Stupid and so unbelievably sexy to feel what he has left inside me, spilling out onto the sheets beneath.

He has a hand at the top of my head, and I can feel him absently playing with my hair.

We don't talk, just rest in our thoughts for a while. I have so much to say to him, but it doesn't feel like it's my turn to speak. I've said enough.

I know that I feel something deep for this man who is such a strange mix of tenderness and strength, who holds himself apart so that he doesn't get hurt but cares so much about my feelings that he's flown over an ocean to mend things. I'm so frightened of going back to the bitter grief I've been feeling, to the times when I wake each morning feeling normal for just a few seconds before the sadness crashes over me like a breakwater. I'm not ready for this, but I can't go back. I took a chance in that hotel bar, wanting to do something frivolous and adventurous; my first one-night stand. But instead, I've ended up with this growing connection to someone who is obviously in no fit state for a relationship and with no desire to form one.

Stupid girl for risking my heart again.

As if he reads my mind, Aaron starts to speak softly against my neck.

"I'm so stupid, Nicole. I shouldn't have followed you here. I shouldn't have done any of the things I've done. If I've hurt you, I'm so sorry. You have to know I didn't want that. You have to know how sorry I am."

I turn my face, so my lips are closer to his ear. "You said something to me in Atlanta, about me choosing what happened, and you're right. Do you think that I would have done any of this if I hadn’t wanted to? Do you think I wouldn’t have tried to stop you? I'm not saying that I'm not hurting, but this isn't something you did alone, Aaron. It's something that started before I even met you, and I know it started before all this for you too."

Aaron shifts again, sliding off me slightly so his chest is only half across mine and one thick thigh is resting between my legs. He puts his hand over my breast and cups it tenderly, as he did before, but his face remains hidden in my neck.

"I loved someone once," he says, as though the words hurt to come from his mouth. "I thought she was perfect, but she lied about so many things that in the end, when I found out about what she'd done, I didn't know up from down. I couldn't trust anyone, and worst of all, I couldn't trust myself. I hadn't seen what she was doing or suspected what she was capable of. It’s made me doubt all my decisions when it comes to relationships."

"So, you came up with the rule?"

"Yes.'"

I run my fingers gently through his hair, wanting to soothe him in any way I can. "Aaron, you know that you can't blame yourself for any of that. The blame lies squarely with that woman. If you saw the best in her, that only reflects well on you. Don't you see that?"

"In business, I have certainty about what I'm doing. I know a good decision when I make it. But with my personal life, I just don't believe that I can put myself on the line again."

"How long's it been?"

"Six years," he says, moving to roll away from me, but I hold him tighter so he'll stay where he