The truth is a sneaky thing. Like a witch, it demands a high price before setting you free.
Life as I know it can go up in smoke — including my relationship with Dad and Aiden.
I squash that scary thought and type the question I’ve been asking since he left.
Elsa: When are you coming back?
Aiden: Less than a week.
Aiden: Why? Do you miss me?
I don’t even think as I type. I don’t listen to my paranoia anymore. Denying my feelings for Aiden only destroyed me from the inside.
Elsa: I do.
The phone brightens up with his name and the picture of our first kiss.
Shit.
I didn’t think he’d call.
Clearing my throat, I answer, “Hey.”
“Say it. I need to hear it.” The raspiness in his tone sends tingles racing down my spine. That voice is made to say dirty, authoritative things.
“Say what?”
“That you miss me.”
“I miss you.” My voice is low, sultry. I didn’t even know I had that range.
“Fuck, sweetheart. I’m hard.”
A wave of longing grips me by the throat. It tingles at the bottom of my stomach, pooling there. “You are?”
“Fuck right, I am.” His growl is rough, animalistic even.
God. I love his voice when he lets his real self shine through.
“You drive me fucking crazy, Elsa.”
“How crazy?” I ask because I can’t help myself.
“Crazy enough to jerk off in the bathroom when I should be downstairs.”
My cheeks heat as if they’ve been set on fire. My entire body is.
The desire in Aiden’s voice is contagious. It’s the type that grips you by the neck and never leaves.
“Talk to me, sweetheart. Let me hear your voice.” He pauses. “Scratch that. Touch yourself as if I’m there with you.”
My free hand is already travelling under my shirt, caressing the soft skin of my breasts. They’re heavy, aching.
“How do you want me to touch myself?” I ask.
“Remove your clothes.” His raspy order travels through my ear and hits me straight in my core. “Do it slowly as if I’m watching.”
Manoeuvring the phone between my shoulder and ear, I push down my cotton shorts. Despite their soft material, they create maddening friction across my heated skin.