17. Levi

CHAPTER 17

Levi

After another blowjob that left us both breathless and spent, we found ourselves in the bedroom. The sheets tangled beneath us as Aiden lay curled against me, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His hair was a mess, his lips swollen, and every inch of him looked utterly wrecked in the most stunning way. I couldn’t stop touching him—his shoulder, his arm, the sharp curve of his hip. It was grounding, reminding me that this was real.

He’d called me Daddy. A single word that unlocked something I’d kept locked away for years. I’d never imagined hearing it from him.

Since the first time I laid eyes on him, I’d spent time trying not to hope—trying to convince myself that wanting him at all was bad enough, let alone in that way. And now? Now I was lying here, his bare skin pressed against mine, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against my ribs, and I couldn’t stop thinking about everything I wanted. Everything I’d always wanted. And the possibility that I could have it all. With him.

“You okay?” My voice was soft, barely above a murmur. I didn’t want to break the spell, but I needed to know. Needed to hear it from him.

Aiden shifted, pulling back just enough to look up at me. His cheeks flushed pink, his gaze darting away for a moment before settling on mine. God, he looked so… happy. Soft, in a way I hadn’t seen before. It made my chest tighten.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “I’m good. Better than good.”

My lips curved into a smile. “Good.” I dragged a hand through his hair, letting my fingers linger in the strands. “You look it.”

His blush deepened, and he huffed out a laugh. “Shut up.”

“No, seriously.” I shifted, propping myself up on one elbow to get a better look at him. “You look… incredible.” My hand moved to cup his cheek, my thumb brushing over the faint stubble there. “You’re fucking glowing, Aiden.”

His eyes softened, but then he blinked and looked away. “Don’t,” he said, his voice suddenly quieter.

“Don’t what?”

“Make this into something it’s not.” He sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. His shoulders hunched slightly, like he was bracing for something. “We agreed this was a bad idea.”

A sharp ache bloomed in my chest. “You don’t… think this could be more?” The question came out before I could stop it, vulnerable and exposed in a way I hadn’t meant to reveal.

He shook his head, not meeting my eyes. “Levi…”

“I’m not trying to pressure you,” I said quickly, sitting up beside him. “I just… I need to know, when you called me Daddy… did you mean it?”

That made him freeze. His fingers tightened on the blanket, his lips parting like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. The silence stretched, heavy and charged, until he finally exhaled and met my gaze.

“It slipped out,” he said, his voice low and uncertain. “I didn’t mean to…” He swallowed hard, his throat working. “Not everyone’s into that kind of thing.”

“I am.” The words came out steady, certain, leaving no room for doubt. I reached for him, my hand settling over his where it clutched the blanket. “I meant it when I said I like that you called me Daddy. And I’d like to hear it again.”

His eyes widened, his breath hitching. For a moment, hope flickered there, but then he pulled his hand away and shook his head. “This isn’t…” He trailed off, his voice faltering. “It’s not what this was about.”

“What was it about, then?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm even as my chest tightened.

“We both needed to get it out of our systems,” he said, his tone sharper now, like he was trying to convince himself as much as me. “That’s all this was. And it can’t happen again.”

“Aiden…”

“No.” He stood, the blanket slipping from his shoulders as he turned his back to me. “Levi, I can’t… I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

The finality in his voice hit me like a punch to the gut. I sat there for a moment, staring at his back, trying to find the right words. But nothing I could say would change what he’d already decided.

“Okay,” I said finally, standing and gathering my clothes. My movements felt mechanical, every step pulling me further from the moment we’d just shared.

When I was dressed, I paused by the door, glancing back at him. “For what it’s worth,” I said, my voice low but steady, “I don’t think this was a mistake.”

He didn’t turn around, didn’t say anything. And as I stepped outside into the crisp night air, the weight of what I was walking away from settled heavy in my chest.

I’d had a glimpse of what we could be, incredible and real. And now, I had to live with the fact that he might never let it happen again.

Outside, the cold air hit me like a slap. I stopped on the porch, staring out at the snow-covered pines, my breath clouding the air in front of me.

I’d walked out of that house because he left me no choice, but every step away from him felt wrong. Like I was leaving behind something I’d never be able to find again.