And, for Cole, watching him was better than watching the movie. It wasn’t what she would have pictured at all. But, then, doing something like this with Aiden had always been a daydream she’d never really believed would happen, so her imagination had been hazy on the details. She guessed she had been expecting his usual careful detachment: an elegant man bathed in the silver light of a screen. What she got was a boy’s wide-eyed wonder. A delight in TIE fighters, Wookiees, and lightsabers that might have started as affection for his father but was now entirely his own. And he was sharing it with her. The pizza came and went, and he barely noticed. And, once she’d got rid of the box, he let her rearrange the duvet over them both—for maximum coziness—and squeezed right up against him. She even got to wriggle her hand into his. She didn’t think she’d ever liked Star Wars quite as much as she did right then. She felt half drunk
“See,” Cole leaned in and brushed her mouth over the stark crests of his collarbones, remembering the way he’d responded in Kinlochbervie. He trembled now, her gorgeous man, felled by the gentlest of touches. “You can imagine you’re Alexander and I’m Bagoas, and I’m disrobing you after some great battle.” He cupped a hand beneath her jaw and drew her up for a brief kiss. “I think I’d rather you were Arden.” “I can definitely live with that. I’m still yours, though.” “Is that so? How’s your dancing?” “I’ve got some moves. How’s your global conquest?” “Largely financial.” He was stalling. It was cute stalling, but stalling nevertheless. Shuffling lower on the bed, she slipped her fingers gently under the waist of his lounge trousers and slid them all the way down. Swear to God, if she’d attempted a sexy move like that on herself, she’d have got them tangled in her knob. Or around her knees. But, for Aiden, she found grace.
Wow, this was like that scene in that movie where the guy is super moved by the beauty of a plastic bag blowing in the wind.. Cole wasn’t entirely sure how to respond, apart from, y’know, graciously because he’d given her a compliment. “Um, thank you.” Aiden gave her a tense little smile. And she was still sitting there, with his dick in her hand. So far Operation Hand Job wasn’t anything close to the gently erotic experience she’d had in mind. In fact, it was hard to imagine how it could have gone worse without one of them sustaining actual physical injury. Or her mum and his mum walking in on them simultaneously. Probably the sensible thing to do at this point was give up. But fuck sensible. And fuck giving up. She’d damn near demanded Aiden’s trust. And so far all she’d done with it was intimidate him with her array of personal lubricants and get defensive about her masturbatory habits. She had to fix this. Obviously, she need
“I just thought it would be romantic,” Cole grinned at him in what she hoped was an appealing fashion. “You know, like Bogart and Bacall, Davis and Henreid, Grant and Scott. I mean, unless you think I’ll set your face on fire or something?” He didn’t think she would set his face on fire. He took the packet of cigarettes she’d brought him, drew one out of the foil, and put it to his lips. And, obviously, smoking was bad and everyone knew it was bad…but he looked so sexy. Half naked, stretched out in bed, still languid with post-orgasmic sensuality: this perfect embodiment of old Hollywood glamour, except nobody had to pretend they were straight. She fumbled a match out of the box. “I should light one for me too, and then we could put the tips together and do it that way.” “I’m not letting you smoke.” “Um, is it up to you?” “Since they’re my cigarettes, yes.” But then he smiled unexpectedly. “Besides,
Cole’s body had apparently given up on time zones because when she next woke up, it was still far too early, especially for a Saturday. To her slight surprise, Aiden was beside her, as close as he could get without them actually touching. God, he must have been exhausted because he was out. And, whereas when Cole was asleep she looked like a concussed bunny, drooling and twitching and snuffling her nose (she knew because Harper had been kind enough to record her), even after last night Aiden looked beautiful. Like he belonged in an arty black ‘n’ white photo series. He was lying on his stomach, head turned to the side, one arm flung across the pillow, the other curled neatly beside him. The covers had slipped down, exposing his shoulders and the long sweep of his spine. And the teeniest hint of buttock curve. His hair was an adorable ruffle across his brow, and his eyelashes were infuriating. She meant, did he need them that thick and dark a
Cole tipped her head, already breathless. “Y-yes.” “Good. Now, then. Shall we see what you deserve today?” Apparently what she deserved was to beg and moan a lot. To get covered in bites and bruises. To be sweaty and mindless and helpless. And, finally, when she was literally crying, to come like the end of the fucking universe. Leaving her used and abused and sated and happy. ***** Aiden had to fly to New York on Sunday. But—apart from the time Cole spent on the phone, first to her folks, who were thrilled for her, and then to Harper, who’d got a first, of course—he was all hers for Saturday. Remembering how much he’d enjoyed their family game night, and facing up to the fact that she was never, ever, ever going to be remotely interested in learning how not to suck at chess (even from Aiden), she took him down to a board game shop in Seven Dials. He wanted to call a car, but she insisted they
Cole had intended to be delightful when Aiden left, sending him across the ocean with the sweetness of her kisses lingering on his lips. Unfortunately, their parting took place at 4 a.m., leaving her mainly half asleep, mumbly, and pathetic. Despite her sleepy state, she tried to convey her message by wrapping her arms around his leg and refusing to let go. “I’ll be back next Saturday,” he said, attempting to sound exasperated but ultimately laughing. “Please let go. I don’t want to be late.” “No. I’m keeping you.” “Cole.” She whimpered tragically. “Promise you’ll come and see me straight away? As soon as you land?” “It’s Eleanor’s birthday. Have you forgotten?” Oh shit. Where had August gone? “Only technically.” “How about…” He gently peeled her hand off his knee and gave it a squeeze. “I pick you up, and we go together?” That startled her almost awake. “You want to take me to…um…a family thing?”
Fifty minutes later, Cole emerged flayed, dazed, giddy, and job-having.Junior Assistant Editor. She was a junior assistant editor.Truthfully, she was still a bit shaky on what that actually involved. But, whatever it was, it was a real thing and she was going to be paid for it. Not, y’know, much. But she’d never been paid for anything before. Unless you counted that time Aiden had established a scholarship in her name after she’d given him a blow job. She lurched past one of the Pitts and into Hanover Square. Slumped onto a bench, amid the swirling green, and messaged everyone she knew with shaking fingers. Aiden first, of course. And he was the first to get back to her, signing his congratulations off with an x, which was incredibly effusive for him, squeaking in before her family, who sang to her as follows: They knew she could do it / Just call it a hunch / Ardy’s delicious & nutritious / For dinner, breakfast, and lunch. Rabbie an