Home > Final Call (Call #2)(48)

Final Call (Call #2)(48)
Author: Emma Hart

“Is this going to be a habit, Dayton?”

“Is what going to be a habit? My being up early enough to see you off to work?” I raise an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t count on it, baby. I don’t do mornings.”

He leans across the bar, wrapping his hand around my neck, and pulls me into him. “Oh, I know you don’t. You’re a little night owl. Do you know how exhausted I am?”

“Perhaps you should reconsider changing your schedule. A ten a.m. start may be more fitting for your current lifestyle.”

“The lifestyle in which I take you to our bed every night and f**k you until you see black?”

A spark of red-hot lust shoots through my pu**y, dissipating into a heavy ache at his words. “Or we could go with the one in which I flip you onto your back and f**k you until you see black—like I did last night.”

A growl rumbles deep in Aaron’s throat. “Are you trying to send me to work with a raging hard-on?”

“Are you going to be going with one?”

“Unless I lift you onto this counter and sink inside you and make you come in ten minutes, yes, I am.” He buttons his shirt slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.

I shake my head with a rueful smile. “Not going to happen. I’m actually rather offended at the idea that you’ll come in ten minutes of sex with me. That’s a hit to my ego, you know? I know for a fact I can work you for longer than that.”

“Dayton, sweetheart.” Aaron rounds the bar and slips between my legs on the stool. “That’s not an insult. It’s a compliment. You’re so f**king sexy you’re lucky I don’t come the second I slide inside you.”

“You’re lucky you don’t, you mean.” I grab either side of his tie and knot it for him. “If you did, I’d be really f**king mad you denied me of an orgasm.”

“Trust me, if that ever happens—which it won’t—I’ll slide down your body and taste you until you come several times over to make up for my incompetence.”

The thought of Aaron being incompetent in the bedroom is seriously laughable.

I flatten his collar over the neck of tie and pat it down, making sure his tie is perfect. “I’ll remember that.”

He threads his fingers into his hair. “Look at you, dressing me. Can I count on that being a rarity, Miss Black? I much prefer the alternative.”

“Dressing yourself? There’s no fun in that.”

His lips curl in the smirk that always gets me, the one that sets a dangerous spark off in his eyes and tightens my muscles. “I can safely say getting dressed is the least favorite part of my day. Especially since you moved in.”

“Since I was forced to,” I correct him, lightly pushing on his chest. He straightens, his mouth twisting in annoyance. “Oh, don’t pull that with me. We both know I had no choice in the matter. I chewed your ass out and now I’m all good with it. Kind of. Sort of.”

Aaron takes my coffee and finishes it. Bastard. “Lose one of the sugars. Makes the coffee taste funny.”

“You know, there’s a reason I made two mugs. One for me and one for you.”

He glances over my shoulder to the coffee machine and winces when he sees the second mug. “Dammit. Still, lose the sugar. I prefer stealing yours.”

Of course he does. Why would he have his own when he can just steal mine? He obviously thinks I make it for shits and giggles. I don’t. Coffee is serious stuff.

“I’m going to start making myself two mugs every morning so that when you steal one, I still have one for myself.”

“You do that, sweetheart.” He kisses me softly. “I have to go to work. What are you doing today?”

I shrug a shoulder. “Probably the same thing I’ve done for the last few days. Not very much.”

Guilt flashes in his eyes for half a second. “Why don’t you call Liv?”

“She’s working.”

“You’ll think of something, I’m sure. I’d invite you to come into the office with me, but I can guarantee I wouldn’t get a great deal of work done.” He flicks his eyes to the space between my br**sts that’s exposed by the open front of his shirt. “Make that none.”

“Go to work before I suddenly make plans for my day and call you in sick,” I warn, seeing the heat clouding his eyes.

Aaron smirks, pulling me into him again and sweeping his lips across mine. “I fail to see how that sentence is supposed to convince me to leave you here alone.”

I kiss him hard and shove him off me, standing. “Go before I make good on my threat.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” He slaps my ass and grabs his jacket. “Behave yourself, and no DIY orgasms.”

I gasp, turning and walking backward toward the bathroom. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

He winks and disappears out the door. A smile curves my lips. All the bullshit aside, being with him is so easy. Living with him is so easy.

His blue eyes are the first and last things I see every day. His arms around me is the first and last thing I feel every day. His voice is the first and last thing I hear.

If it weren’t for the bullshit simmering beneath the surface courtesy of his ex, this would be pretty much perfect right now.

If perfect existed, that is. It doesn’t, but true love is the closest thing you’ll get to perfect. And despite everything, all the fights and the time that’s passed, I know this is true love.

Nothing but true love can make you feel as if you’re walking on air, even during the bad shit.

I shrug off his shirt, drop it in the laundry basket, and run naked back to the second bedroom. My lingerie room. My fingers brush across the endless fabric until my eyes fall on that turquoise bra I fell in love with in London.

Briefly, I glance at the red outfit Aaron loves. I discard the thought just as quickly.

I have no idea what his response will be when he finds out that Tyler is taking my portfolio shots, but I bet it won’t be pretty if I wear that one.

No, I’ll leave that for another day.

I grab some black panties, slide them up my legs, then slip into the bra. My lips curve at my stupidly when I stand in front of the mirror and jiggle my boobs in the cups to make them sit right. Inside-bra-boob-adjusting: necessary but idiotic, and something every woman does.

A knock sounds at the door as I tie the belt of my robe, and I cross the apartment to answer it. I open the door to Tyler, and he ruffles his hair and grins.

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