The Sextet - Entanglements [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (8 page)

Control was slipping. Aidan’s hands curled into fists, his spine arched of its own accord. The one glance he allowed himself revealed Trish with her head bent over his shaft. A slender finger pushed it sideways, pointing the head right at her lips—lips she moistened with a quick swipe of her tongue before biting down on their sensuous fullness. When Trish’s pent-up breath blasted his cockhead, his balls twitched, and with the next pluck, Aidan lost what little control he had left.

He tried to warn her, but his strangled “Look out!” came a moment too late. With unprecedented force, his semen splattered her mouth and chin.

Trish recoiled as if a rattler had struck with jaws open wide and fangs dripping venom.

Aidan was mortified. “Oh, God. Trish, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I—”

She turned away from him. Aidan couldn’t see her face, but the quick contraction of her body told him all he needed to know. Obviously retching, she was doing her best to keep from losing her lunch all over the bedspread.

Aidan wanted to run, but he couldn’t move. Wrestling with his bonds, he realized she was better at applying restraints than he’d originally thought. Someone had taught her well. His only escape would have been for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He half expected her to make a run for the bathroom, but she didn’t move from the bed.

She still had her back to him when she finally spoke, her voice devoid of expression. “Thanks for the warning.” Reaching for the box of tissues on the nightstand, she pulled one out and wiped her face. “So, what got to you? The pain or being tied up?”

Aidan wanted desperately to explain that it wasn’t what had been done to him as much as the fact that she had been the one to do it. But he was afraid to open his mouth at all, knowing he was bound to screw things up even more. “I–I’m not sure. I’ve never—”

“Done anything like this? I didn’t think so.” She got up from the bed and began untying the cord around his ankle. “That’s probably enough for today.”

Aidan was incredulous. “You mean you’ll do it again? I figured you’d never even speak to me after this. Are you sure you aren’t mad?”

“I’m not mad. I just didn’t think…”

She might not have, but Aidan should have known better, should have called the whole thing off before it began. Or at least when he realized how hard he was getting. “I’m sorry, Trish. I’ve never…well, I didn’t know what to expect.”

“Me either.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She unbuckled the belt around his ankle and moved on to the wrist restraints, her expression unreadable—not that Aidan was any good at reading people’s moods. He was a lot better with temperamental computers.

Aidan’s first move was to pull up his pants, never taking his eyes off Trish’s face. She stood there for a moment, her fingers touching the places where his semen had hit. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, I’m flattered, but—” She stopped there, shaking her head. “I think I need some tea. Matter of fact, I think we
both
need some tea.”

* * * *

Trish went into the kitchen and poured two glasses of iced tea from the pitcher in the fridge. Aidan’s ejaculation had taken her completely by surprise—mainly because she’d been trying so hard to ignore his erection. He was a friend and supposedly a virgin. His reaction shouldn’t have come as such a shock, but it had. Even more shocking was her own response. She’d done her best to remain calm and professional, but the urge to suck his cock had been so strong. Even so, she would never have guessed that having someone come in her face could trigger an orgasm of such cataclysmic proportions. Like Aidan, she wasn’t sure why.

She’d always liked Aidan as a child, and he’d grown into a very attractive young man. His “problem” hadn’t bothered her in the slightest. In fact, he had the most succulent dick she’d ever seen—and as a nurse, she’d seen quite a few. Granted, they were seldom in the same state of arousal that Aidan’s had been, but
still…

Poor guy, he was bound to be embarrassed to death. She was the nurse, and the elder of the two. It was her job to take the objective point of view and to gloss over any awkwardness between them. She was a little afraid he might bolt out the front door, but he came through the kitchen, actually looking her in the eye when she handed him his glass. “You okay?”

He nodded, taking a long drink of the tea. “You don’t have to do that again if you don’t want to. I’ll understand. I can’t believe I did that to you.”

Trish smiled. “Trust me, I’ve had worse things happen. I’ve been pinched, kicked, bitten, cussed, slapped, and spat on—though I must admit,
that
was a first.”

His soft brown eyes displayed such compassion her heart ached at the sight of them. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry for those things, too. I hate the thought of anyone hurting you.”

“It’s part of the job,” she said with a shrug. “And it’s not all bad. Nice things happen sometimes.”

“Probably not as often, though.”

“True.” Actually, what Aidan had done ranked right up there with the time a man had taken her hand and told her he loved her, thanking her profusely for saving his life. It seemed strange that he had singled her out from the others who’d been on hand to help, though Trish
had
been the one operating the defibrillator. She understood that. But why Aidan had been so sexually excited was a mystery. Even
he
hadn’t known the reason—or if he did, he was keeping it to himself. Part of her assumed it was due to the kinky nature of their task, but another part wished for something a little more
personal.

Like having a man who’s so crazy about me that he’d shoot his wad just because I tied him down and plucked his pubic hair.
That was power—something she’d never felt in any relationship with a man. If only it wasn’t so unlikely. Trish tried to imagine what it would be like to have someone feel that much passion for her. Then she realized she already knew.

The idea was heady but frightening. Aidan was so much younger than she—and by more than simply the difference in their ages. Whether he truly felt any desire for her wasn’t as important as not hurting him. She didn’t care for the way his previous girlfriends had treated him at all. She didn’t want to be guilty of the same thing.

Girlfriends? Was she actually considering herself in that role now? She was quite certain
he
didn’t, but the need to comfort him was so strong. Then she realized that she needed comfort from him as much as he needed it from her, perhaps more. The bleak loneliness of her life was like an open wound that no amount of commiserating with her friends could heal.

Trish set down her glass, biting her lip as she felt tears begin to well up in her eyes. Lowering her head, she attempted to shield her face from his view, but an involuntary sniff gave her away.

Aidan’s glass hit the counter with a bang. “Trish?”

She took a step toward him, her knees suddenly weak as she broke down completely.

Aidan’s arms were around her in an instant. “This is because of what I did, isn’t it?”

Trish shook her head, unable to stop sobbing long enough to speak. When was the last time she’d had a shoulder to cry on? Had she ever?

His hands caressed her back the way a lover’s should—warm, gentle, and filled with understanding. The girls who had laughed at him were fools. Not every man was capable of such kindness—certainly none that Trish had been involved with. “I wish—” She stopped short of saying the words. Rejection at that moment would have been too painful. The absolute last straw.

“You wish what?”

Sniffing again, she straightened up, wiping away her tears. She had control of herself now. “That this love thing wasn’t so damned hard. You shouldn’t have to resort to having your hair pulled, and I shouldn’t have to feel like I’m surrendering my life to any man I hook up with. It’s getting old.”

Aidan’s eyes widened with surprise. “Surrender your life? Really?”

“Really.” Reaching for a napkin, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “I always seem to wind up with control freaks. It may not show up in the beginning, but it always comes out in the end. Guys telling me I have to sell this house and move in with them. Telling me what I should wear, what I should eat, and when to have an orgasm. I’m sick of it.”

“I never—”

“I don’t mean you, Aidan. God knows, I don’t mean you.”

“Does that mean you’ll still do this for me?”

“Sure.” She paused, giving him the best smile she could manage. “And I won’t hold it against you if you come in my face.”

Aidan grinned. “Now,
there’s
something to put on a coffee mug.”

He was
so
adorable. The impulse to kiss him was nearly impossible to suppress, but somehow she managed it. “I’m sure it would sell millions.”

“So when do you want me to come?”

Trish snickered. If he was trying to defuse the situation with humor, it was working. Sort of. “You might want to rephrase that.”

He made a face at her. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Okay, then. What time do you want me to be here?”

“I have to work tonight, so I’ll probably be asleep until four or so tomorrow. Anytime after that is fine.”

“I’ll be here with chains on.”

Trish was pretty sure he meant to be amusing, but he still came across as more seductive than silly. When did he get so damned sexy? “Oh, let’s not go there.”

“Belts then.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” She glanced up at the clock. “I’ve got to take a nap before work.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow then.”

Trish walked him to the door and watched as he crossed the lawn and squeezed through the hedge between the two yards.
Damn.
He even looked sexy doing that.

Now I’ve got to try and get some sleep.

No way.

No
possible
way…

Chapter 3

After virtually no sleep and one helluva night in the ER, Trish collapsed on her bed the next morning. The thoughts of Aidan lying there essentially naked had kept her awake the previous afternoon, but this time exhaustion won out over eroticism.

Even so, she woke up an hour earlier than usual, and after stumbling to the bathroom, she wandered into the kitchen. A quick glance through the back door window revealed Aidan hard at work planting marigolds. His bike was leaning up against the garage with two hanging baskets of impatiens strapped on the back. Aidan had never owned a car. He’d saved his money for college and rode that bike everywhere. No wonder he had such great legs.

Watching him made Trish feel like crying all over again. Aidan was such a sweetheart. She would have given anything to have a man like that for her very own. Unfortunately, she’d waited too long, and now all the good ones were taken. She’d dated some guys in high school but never had a serious boyfriend. A girl didn’t meet very many men in nursing school, either. True, there were more male nurses than in the past, but the ratio was still about twenty to one. Since she’d graduated, the only men she’d met were doctors, aides, policemen, and the occasional patient who wasn’t completely dysfunctional. None of them had been the sort she was looking for. Online dating and the bar scene held no appeal for her. Finding Mr. Right was more impossible than the needle-in-the-haystack analogy. And yet, here was Aidan, right next door.
And six effing years younger.

Telling herself that in the greater scheme of things six years was nothing didn’t help much. He was still the boy next door, and she had no business having erotic fantasies about him, much less following through with them.

Still, the flowers were beautiful. She’d have to pay him something, though she’d probably have to argue with him for a while before he agreed to take the money. Getting dressed, she brushed her teeth and hair and went out.

“That looks great, Aidan. What do I owe you?”

“Not a penny,” he replied. “I think we’re, um, even now.”

“I pull your hair, you plant my flowers?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, if you think it’s a fair trade, I won’t argue with you.”

“Good. I hate it when someone insists on paying me for something I consider a gift.”

Glad I didn’t argue.

Aidan stuffed another marigold into a hole and pressed the dirt in around it. “You’re up early.”

“Yeah, when I only work one night like that, it seems pointless to sleep any later than I have to. I get up when I wake up.” She was glad she’d awakened when she did. After all, it wasn’t every day she awoke to find a hunk busily planting flowers in her backyard.