Until his shirt gets stuck on his hand.
I start laughing, because it won’t come off no matter how hard I tug on it.
He pulls the sleeve back on, showing me that his watch is in the way.
I nod in understanding, unbutton his sleeve, and then pull it off him.
Then I put the shirt on me.
“Something is wrong with this picture here,” he teases, gliding his finger down my stomach. “My clothes are coming off and you’re putting them back on.”
“This shirt is soft. I might steal it and wear it to bed.” I sorta hug myself and run my hands down the sleeves.
He growls a little. “Are you going to take off my pants?”
My face instantly flushes—hell, my whole body instantly flushes.
I nod and move my hands to his belt while he pulls the shirt off my shoulder and kisses down my chest.
They are slow, soft, controlled kisses.
As he’s doing that, I unbuckle his belt.
Then I unzip his pants and let them glide down his legs.
“Sliders, huh?”
“Yeah, they’re comfortable.”
“And way hotter than boxers,” I state. Because those things are tight. As in, I can see the outline of every bulge underneath, including the one I’ve been dying to see.
But I remind myself that the sliders must stay on.
Do not take off the sliders.
Do not pull off the sliders.
He quickly kicks his pants off, and then in one fluid motion picks me up and lays me on the bed.
“I have a present for you,” I tell him, having no idea why I chose this moment to bring it up. Especially when I should be focusing on what I can feel under those sliders.
He props his head up, his green eyes sparkling in the candlelight and possibly looking the sexiest I’ve ever seen. “Really?”
“I was going to give it to you when you passed French this semester.”
“But you’re so confident that I’m going to pass that you’re giving it to me now?”
Oh, Lord.
No, I don’t want to give it to you now.
I want you to give it to me.
Unleash that freaking Titan.
Now.
“So, where is it?” he asks.
“Oh, um, what?”
“The present. Where is it?”
“Oh, I’ll go get it,” I say, clearing dirty thoughts from my head, hopping off the bed, and quickly running to the closet.
I stare at the wrapped Tiffany’s box sitting on the shelf, hating myself for lying to him. I’m giving it to him now because I know I won’t be there at the end of the semester.
I carry the box back to the bed and hand it to him. He leans back against the headboard and unties the white ribbon.
God, does he look sexy lying there in nothing but his underwear or what?
He smiles as he pulls out the silver keychain I bought him. It has a silver four-leaf clover charm set in a twisted circle. One side is engraved with the word sort and the other with the word luck.
“A four-leaf clover,” he says with a big grin.
“Both sides of it are engraved.”
He squints in the dim light, then holds the keychain in front of the hurricane lamp and reads, “Sort. As in the French word for fate?”
“Yeah. Now look at the other side.”
He flips it over. “Luck. Hmmm. Luck or fate. Which one are we?”
“I don’t know. But I do know I’m lucky to have met you.” Tears shimmer in my eyes as he touches my face.
“I think we’re both lucky.”
“Remember how I told you I called you the God of all Hotties?”
He grins. “Yeah.”
“That’s kind of how I treated you. Like a god. Like you were perfect. But after what happened with Chelsea, seeing you with black eyes, it made you more real. And it showed me how much I care about you.” I pause then say softly, “And that scared me.”
“Why were you scared?”
“Because when she told me . . . ” I clutch my chest, because just the thought of what she said being true still makes my heart ache.
“It hurt,” Aiden says, finishing my sentence.
“Yeah.”
He puts his fingers together, making half of our four-leaf clover. I hold my fingers together in the same way and touch his, forming the rest of it.
The second our fingers touch, it’s like magic. A crack of thunder roars and lightning shoots across the sky as a storm moves in from the distance.
Aiden stares at me for a beat then takes action, his lips finding my neck as he quickly unbuttons the single button on his shirt and undoes my bra. He tosses them both on the bed then leans in to kiss me.
Our naked chests touch.
You sometimes hear how a teeny spark can start a whole forest fire. Our chests touching is my spark, and now I’m burning out of control.
His fingers move across my nipple, causing it to immediately harden. Then he flicks it with his tongue and pulls it into his mouth with his teeth, sending lightning bolts of sensations through my body.
My legs are spread wide, his hips between them. He grips my hips tightly as he kisses his way down my stomach. He kisses around the edges of my lace panties, but they aren't gentle kisses.