Chapter 3

3

Aiden

Most of my brothers are wild men, such as myself.

We were raised with very little discipline or supervision and spent most of our time getting into trouble or playing hockey. My oldest brother is the only one of us who settled down with a wife. Once while we were out for a beer, he told me I would find a woman one day that made my heart feel like it was breaking and swelling out of my chest all at once.

I’ve found her.

I’m marrying her.

It’s a done fucking deal.

Lola doesn’t seem to think so, unfortunately. Which is why I’m taking her to a restaurant instead of my hotel room where I’d already be getting her pregnant. Yeah, I want my saucy little badass round with my child and I don’t think I’ll relax until she shows me two little lines on a pregnancy test. I’m locking her down and making a mother out of her. End of story.

But look, I might be a hothead and a brawler, but I know how to listen when someone is saying something important. Lola asked me to speak to her like a lady, so she probably needs to be treated like one as well. I still have a lot to learn about handling Lola right, but I think she needs candlelight and wine and shit, right? Moreover, I want to treat her the way she deserves—and in the process, I want to find out why some motherfucker thinks he owns my future wife.

After that, I can figure out how to rid him of that belief.

By any means necessary.

I kick open the back door of the restaurant and carry Lola inside. We’re not off to a great start, since she refused to get out of the limousine, but I’m a professional athlete.

Challenges are kind of my thing.

And I’ve never met one more worthy of a fight.

Looking down at her sexy curves nestled in my arms, I groan out loud and gather her closer. She glares up at me, but her dress is molded to her tits, showing off her peaked nipples. There’s a rosy glow on her cheeks that has been there since we kissed. So she might be pissed, but she’s attracted to me, thank Christ.

Back in the green room at the television studio, I almost came in my pants when our tongues touched for the first time. I’ve never tasted anything sweeter or more perfect than her mouth, and the way her legs wrapped around me? Fuck. I am showing admirable restraint by taking her to this restaurant with my cock full and dripping in my briefs. If she shows me the slightest bit of encouragement, how will I keep myself from pinning her tight body beneath mine and getting my seed inside her as deeply as possible?

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

I need to get her pregnant.

“Aiden, you’re talking out loud,” Lola cries. “There will be no getting me pregnant.”

The waiter chooses that moment to appear, looking uncomfortable by what he overheard, but I can only grin. “Can I help…” His eyes widen with recognition. “Holy shit, you’re Aiden Tulane!”

“One and the same.” I’ve been to this restaurant a couple of times, usually when my agent wants to soften the blow of another suspension, but I seem to remember there being a small, intimate dining area downstairs. “We’ll take the private room.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Tulane. Right away.”

“Thanks.”

“Really?” Lola complains at the waiter’s retreating back. “Zero concerns over the fact that I’m being carried in here against my will?”

I glance down at the spot where her hand has slipped between two buttons of my dress shirt, her fingers sifting through my chest hair. “Against your will might seem like a stretch.”

Pink cheeked, she tugs her hand back and I wish I’d said nothing. I love the way her touch feels on my skin. Like it should have been there all along. It only takes a moment for the waiter to come rushing back with two leather-bound menus. He ushers us to a staircase that leads downstairs to a small, dim room. Wine racks line all four walls, floor to ceiling, and a table is situated in the middle, lit by flickering candles. Soft music filters in from an unseen speaker.

I carry my fiancée over to one of the wide, wingback chairs and sit down, arranging her sideways in my lap and leaning back, feeling like a king who has found his queen.

“What do you drink, Lola?” I ask, massaging the back of her neck with my thumb.

She leans into my touch, ecstasy making her eyes a deeper blue, but she catches herself quickly and straightens her spine. “Champagne, please.” She throws a smirk at me. “The expensive kind.”

“Make it two bottles,” I say, without breaking her eye contact.

Her smile plummets. Mine grows.

Doesn’t she know I can build her a champagne shower if she wishes it?

“Right away, Mr. Tulane,” says the waiter, wheeling from the room.

Lola regards me thoughtfully for long moments. “Was it true what you said before? That you’ve never been with a woman?”

“Yes.”

“And yet, you’re so…confident.”

“I’m determined. It’s not quite the same thing.” Heat flows up the back of my neck over my next admission. “I don’t know how to make you come yet, but I’ll devote my life to finding out. When I set out to master something, I refuse to fail.”

“I wouldn’t know how to make you come, either,” she whispers.

“Move that ass around a little more on my lap, baby. It’ll happen.”

Obviously just realizing she’s been torturing me with subtle revolutions of her hips, Lola gasps and reaches for the ice water sitting on the table. I watch her throat move as she drinks deeply, leaving her mouth glistening with droplets. “This has been the craziest day,” she rasps.

“Crazy good.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re the one with all the power.” She sets the glass down slowly. “I’m already someone’s puppet. My strings are taken. You can’t hold them, too.”

“Consider them cut,” I seethe, rage winding around my insides. “No one holds your strings but you. I’m just terrified that if I give you an option to leave, I’ll never see you again.”

“You shouldn’t see me again. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m dangerous, baby,” I say, an inch from her mouth. “Or haven’t you noticed?”

She shakes her head. “You don’t understand.”

I lean in and catch her soft, plump lips in a kiss, my hand sliding to her hip and squeezing, rocking her toward me. At first, her mouth is stiff, but I make a gruff sound, a plea for more, and feel her melt. Feel her body lose its fight. She opens her lips and lets my tongue venture deep inside, licking against hers and she shudders against me. “There’s nothing that could keep you from being mine,” I say hoarsely. “Just help me understand.”

Lola chews her lip. “I ran away when I was fifteen and…I lied about my age so I could get a job dancing, just off the Strip. Those girls taught me how to survive in a way my parents never did and I paid my way through the dancing lessons I’d always wanted.” She pauses. “Being a showgirl was only supposed to be temporary. I really want to…”

“What?” I prompt when she falls silent.

“I’ve always wanted to teach dance classes. To the kids who can’t afford it, like I couldn’t, you know?” She plays with her fingers in her lap, totally unaware that I fall more and more in love with her with every second that ticks by. “The small cabaret where I was working closed down and I needed a job fast. There was an audition at a bigger place…a well-known place…”

I can tell she’s purposely not telling me the name of the casino where she works, but I bite my tongue to keep from interrogating it out of her. I don’t like that she compared me to a man who treats her like a puppet. I just want to be the man who makes her safe and happy.

And pregnant.

Sue me.

“Anyway, I nailed the audition.” She sniffs. “I’m a damn good dancer.”

Her touch of arrogance is like a siren call to my own huge ego and I swear to God, if she asked me for a condo on the moon right now, I’d work it out. “Okay, so you got the job…”

“Yes. And everything was fine at first. I became the featured dancer, my name on the front of the program and everything. But my boss started withholding my salary. He began paying my rent directly and only doling out exactly what I needed. He overworks me and has the other dancers act as his spies. He’s probably threatening to fire them right now for losing track of me.” She stops to squeeze her eyes closed. “He made me dependent on him so I wouldn’t have the means to quit. It happened so fast and I was distracted by the job.”

By the time she’s finished speaking, rage is making my hands shake. “Well you’re not dependent anymore, Lola,” I say through my teeth. “Call him and tell him you’re out. I’ve got you now.”

“I’ve tried to get out, but he’s…threatened me, my parents. I haven’t seen them in three years, but I don’t want them to get hurt because of me. You don’t understand…” She drops her voice to a whisper. “He’s crazy. Money hungry. And I bring in a lot of money.”

Yeah, I’ll just bet she does. She’s probably been raking in cash for the casinos since before she was even of legal age. I don’t like thinking of her dancing around on stage in an itty-bitty sparkly costume, either, but that is a problem for later. “I’ll handle this, Lola. You’re done. No more Vegas. No more of this bullshit.”

“You can’t get involved. Please. I don’t want you in danger, too.”

I’m going to let that shot at my capabilities pass. I guess I’ll just have to prove to her I’m invincible—and damn, I’m looking forward to it. “Why don’t you want me in danger?” I exhale the question against her bee-stung lips. “You feel something for me, baby?”

“I don’t know,” she grumbles, adorably. “Maybe.”

My mouth spreads into a grin. “Maybe?”

She gives me an elbow in the ribs. “Aren’t you in enough trouble without borrowing mine, Mr. Brooklyn Brawler Tulane?”

“You mean my suspension?”

Discomfort snakes through my middle. I try not to let it show on my face, but when she tilts her head and peers closer, I know I don’t have her fooled. Uh-huh. Not Lola.

“I, uh…yeah, I’m a little worried the league is getting fed up with me. When I get angry, I can’t seem to control it. I just have all this pent-up…”

“Aggression?”

I hum in my throat, very, very aware of the way her ass cheeks cradle my erection. “Yeah, something like that. I’m constantly frustrated. Hockey was my outlet for so long, but lately it’s not enough. I need…”

“Sex?” Her eyes roam over my shoulders. “I’m no expert, but I’d say a man your size, with your stamina, needs…you know.” Color blossoms on her face. “What I said before.”

Huh.

Could that possibly be true? I’ve needed to get laid all this time? Maybe it never occurred to me because I’ve never been so attracted to any woman the way I am with Lola. Not even close. I’ve always just trained harder. Gotten to the gym earlier and tried to burn through my excess energy. However, the idea of pumping my cock into Lola’s little pussy and coming inside of her promises a release nothing else could give me.

“We clearly have a duty to test out your theory,” I rasp, trailing my fingertips over the curve of her knee and up the center of her thighs. “For hockey.”

She laughs at my dumb joke and pleasure expands my chest. “Only for hockey?”

“Nah, baby. For my sanity.” I push her thighs apart and knuckle the crotch of her mint green panties, finding them damp. “Christ, the thought of sinking my meat into this…” I use my forearm to push her dress higher, up around her waist. “Can I see it?”

“See what?”

“That sexy, little pussy. Let Aiden have a look.”

“God, you’re so blunt,” she admonishes me, but she’s breathing heavily, her perky tits heaving up and down, close enough that I could suck them through the material of her dress. Yeah, she can make whatever complaints she wants out loud, but I know she doesn’t mind this filthy mouth of mine. Not one bit.

I hear a set of footsteps approaching the room and throw a cloth napkin over her lap. “Open the champagne and leave us,” I direct the waiter, who does as I ask without hesitation, leaving the open bottle in a silver bucket beside the table before leaving again. I uncover her once more, tossing the napkin aside and splaying my hand over her stomach. “Tell me yes.”

Lola’s head lolls back, her lips parted and panting. “Okay, fine. For hockey.”

Needing to get my eyes on her female flesh, I drag the panties down her thighs, knees and calves, dropping them onto the table. A groan wracks my body at the sight that greets me. A tight, pale cunt with a little strip of red hair running down the middle—and it’s mine, all mine, all mine. Nothing has ever been more perfect or tempting. It’s wet, smooth and smells like sugar-sweet heaven. Sweat forms on my upper lip and forehead, precome squirting from the head of my prick and dampening the fly of my pants. There’s a twist deep, deep in my belly, but it’s not just my system begging for relief, it’s something male and prideful, ordering me to serve and pleasure my woman.

Abruptly, I stand and deposit her in the chair where I was sitting. “I’ve gotta lick it, baby. Now.”

She gasps when I fall to my knees before her. “Wait. What?”

With her knees grasped in my hands, I lean in, smiling against her pussy. “For hockey, right?”

Her giggle turns into a whimper when I part her pussy lips gently with my tongue, easing my way into her wet folds. Delicious nectar sluices over my taste buds and rouses something animalistic inside of me. I’m suddenly sick and her taste is the cure. The only thing that can make me whole. I glide my tongue up and down through her smooth flesh and encounter a little bud near the top. When I nudge it with my upper lip, she whines my name and clutches the arms of the chair, opening her thighs wider—and I know I’ve found that important spot. Her clitoris, I think it’s called. I’m always hearing jokes in the locker room about how it doesn’t really exist, but it does. I’ve discovered the proof. And intuition tells me this little, pink berry being stroked is what rings her bell.

Now that I have a game plan, I commit. I toss her legs over my shoulders and press my mouth flush to her core, flattening my tongue on top of her nub and massaging it roughly.

Lola’s fingers spear into my hair, her heels digging into my upper back. “Aiden. Aiden. Oh my God. Don’t stop what you’re doing.”

I’m desperate to get close as possible to her sweetness. I want to devour her perfect, creamy little sex. In my efforts to work my tongue against her spot as thoroughly as possible, the chair legs begin to scrape on the floor, away from me, but I drag it back with a growl. I spit on her pussy and scrape my teeth up the inside of her right thigh, lust burning me from the inside.

I reach up and yank her hips to the very edge of the seat, rubbing my face in the soft, drenched flesh of her cunt. The tip of my tongue finds her fuck hole and wiggles against it, pressing in slightly and making her lower half jerk off the chair.

“Aiden,” she sobs, pulling my face closer. “Please.”

“I’m going to bring this home and fuck it,” I grit out, my mouth buried between the folds of her pussy. “Going to make it Daddy’s and overflow it with come. Going to ride it on the floor, in my bed, wherever the fuck I want. Going to treat it like a good, little princess or a naughty, little whore—and you’re going to love it, no matter what.”

“Yes.” Her belly hollows and shudders, her hands yanking frantically at my hair. “Yes.”

Triumph rocks me and I find her clit once more, batting it with the tip of my tongue before pressing down on that nub, sliding my middle finger into her fuck hole at the same time, jiggling, jiggling—and she pops off like a cork from a bottle.

“Oh God!” I keep on stroking her sweet berry, reveling in the way she squirms through her orgasm. The orgasm I gave her. Hell yes. I want to beat my goddamn chest. I want to stand over her replete body and jerk ropes of come all over her skin. Brand her as my own.

Instead, though…

Instead, I find the urge to care for her trumps everything.

When her climax subsides, her eyes are wide and she’s trembling, turning something over in my gut. Before my brain can deliver the order, I’m pulling her down into my arms, rocking her side to side on the floor of the restaurant. I plant kisses all over her forehead and hair, murmuring in a voice I’ve never heard come out of me before. Growing alarmed at her silence, I reach up and grab the bottle of champagne, tipping it to her lips.

“Here we go, baby. Shhhh.”

She takes a long sip and sighs, letting me kiss the excess liquid off her swollen lips. It’s meant to be a comforting kiss, but she opens her mouth and I plunge my tongue deep, growing aware once again of the pressure in my balls, my belly—Christ, my dick. It’s thick and aching for her. The champagne is set aside, forgotten on the floor and I lay Lola down, climbing on top of her and locking our sexes together, both of us breathing like we ran a marathon.

“Can you be happy with just one night, Aiden?” Lola whispers, pressing her palm to my cheek. “I can’t give you any more than that.”

Possessiveness rises within me like flood waters, furious and deep. “You can tell yourself whatever lies necessary to get you into my bed, baby. But I know…” I reach between us and press a fist to my chest. “I know you’re already mine and you aren’t going anywhere.”

With that, I sit back and scoop her up off the floor. Ignoring my painful erection, I take my seat again with Lola in my lap and shout for the waiter.

We better eat something.

It’s going to be a long night of convincing Lola we’re forever.