Billy & The Beast (Ever After, New York #3) - Eli Easton Page 0,32

not . . . I look like Frankenstein’s monster, maybe.”

I shook my head adamantly. “No way. I mean, I love Karloff in Frankenstein, but you look nothing like that. You’re totally Tom Hardy.”

Aaron shook his head and made a face, as if giving up on trying to figure me out. But he didn’t seem upset anymore, and I was so relieved my head swam for a moment. Thank God. Thank God he wasn’t so angry over my invasion of his privacy that he wanted nothing more to do with me.

He went over to a pile of clothes on a chair, dropped the towel, and pulled an olive green T-shirt over his head. “You have a frighteningly morbid taste in men, Billy. Might want to see someone about that.” He picked up his mask and pressed it over his face.

“You don’t need the mask.”

He looked at me sharply. “Pardon me, but I do.” He continued to press the thing. I wasn’t sure how it stuck in place, whether there was some kind of adhesive on the back or what. But whatever it was, the pool had made his skin unreceptive. When he let go, the mask slipped off, and he caught it with a curse.

I took a step closer. “Aaron, It’s better without the mask. Your face is more . . . alive. It has character.”

I tried to sound casual, not wanting to admit how good he looked to me, how nice it was to see him this way, without a barrier between us. The mask was just another iron gate, really.

He gave me another disbelieving look, but he dropped the mask to the chair. And he didn’t move away from me. He studied my face, as if checking to see if I really meant it, as if he couldn’t comprehend anyone feeling that way.

Did I dare show him? I raised my hand, slowly so he could pull away. When he didn’t, I gently brushed the tight red skin on his cheekbone.

His eyes narrowed, his stare intense and hot.

I swallowed. “You don’t need it.”

My fingers moved down his cheek to his jaw, his neck, his chest. I traced the dividing line of him which was ragged and uneven.

“It’s . . . sexy,” I whispered.

He took a shuddering breath. “Billy . . . you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Yeah. I do.”

He gripped the wrist of my exploring hand, stopping its path before I reached his stomach. “Do you really want to start this?”

His tone held so much warning that it forced me to stop and think. Did I?

I took a deep breath. “I’ve wanted this since I met you. I’m crazy attracted to you. And I like you. So if there’s no chance, it’d be great if you could let me know and put me out of my misery. I’ll get over it eventually.”

He stared at me a moment longer, then his arm went around my waist and he pulled me against him. My heart started to pump overtime and a warm flush went through my body—excitement, nerves, want. His chest was cool and damp against my shirt. His swim trunks soaked through my denim shorts. I didn’t care. I’d fall into the pool with him right now if it meant staying this close to him.

I don’t know what he saw on my face, but I saw hunger on his. His nostrils flared as his gaze dropped to my mouth.

“God, yes,” I said.

He covered my mouth with his.

I’d fantasized about this so many times, I couldn’t believe it was really happening—that Aaron was kissing me. His mouth was hot inside compared to the cool feel of his skin from the pool, and he tasted of toothpaste and coffee. There was hunger in his kiss, but also caution, as if he wasn’t sure if he meant to do this.

I felt no such reserve. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed tighter, kissing him for all I was worth. A faint moan echoed in my throat.

He turned his head to the side to break the kiss, as if trying to slow down. But he was breathing hard and I felt him tremble—his hands on my back, even his stomach quivered against mine. And his erection was rock hard against my hip.

“Come lay on a lounge chair with me,” I said, taking a step back and tugging on his hand.

“It’s rather public, isn’t it?”

I laughed. “There’s no one here.”

“Jack. He’ll be extremely confused.”

“Jack has free will,” I said seriously. “If he doesn’t like