It’s everywhere, his touch. Like he’s relearning me and getting his fill.
Our ragged breathing fills the air like two desperate souls clashing only to find refuge in each other.
Everything becomes heightened. The squeak of the leather beneath us. The smell of pine trees from outside. The low whistle of the wind.
And Aiden.
I’m so lost in his masculine beauty and tousled hair. In his skin against mine and the metallic gaze.
In all of him.
He speaks against my skin, rough and unpolished. “There hasn’t been a day where I haven’t thought about you. Every time I manage to sleep, I dream of you. You were my obsession since we were kids, but now it’s way fucking worse. I don’t know how I managed to spend eight years without you in my life when now I suffocate if I don’t see you for hours.”
My eyes fill with tears. “Aiden…”
“Choose me, Elsa. Choose us.”
There’s nothing more I want than to do that. I want to be with him so bad, it’s eating me from the inside.
It’s driving me insane.
It’s ripping at my heartstrings.
His hand slides from my face to my throat. He wraps his fingers around it in a vice-like grip. His forehead disconnects from mine and the clouds in his eyes darken. “I’m being fucking nice here, Elsa. I’ve been patient, but I’m this close to say fuck everything and take you all to myself. Don’t. Push. Me.” He emphasises as he strokes his thumb over my pulse point. “Even I don’t know what I’ll do.”
My temper flares at that.
“You know what? It doesn’t always go as you want, Aiden. If you want to be with me then you’ll have to learn a little something called compromise. Google it. I won’t be the one who always bows her head while you get your way. That’s not how relationships work. ” I push his hand away and jump to my feet. “Take me home. Dad must be worried.”
His left eye twitches and I expect him to drag me back down. He doesn’t. He just stands and storms out of the Meet Up.
I watch his rigid back with frustration bubbling in my veins. I was seconds away from melting into his arms, but he had to ruin it by reverting back to his dickhead ways.
I follow him out to his Ferrari. No words are spoken after I give him directions to my dad’s new house.
The entire way is spent in silence. The type you taste in the air, bitter and sour.
Aiden keeps a hand on the steering wheel and the other fists on the armrest between us, but he’s not touching me.
Screw him. He’s not the only one mad right now.
After a few more moments, I contemplate breaking the silence. Finding no words, I remain quiet until the car stops in front of my house.
“Thanks.” I grab the door handle.
He continues staring ahead without acknowledging me.
Enough, dammit.
I drop my hand to my lap and face him. “What are you being so mad about?”
No answer.
“So it’s the silent treatment now?”
“Go inside before I kidnap and fuck you into oblivion.”
My pulse quickens at the image, and my skin turns hot and cold. I wish it was from horror, but it’s from damn excitement.
Something is wired wrong inside of me.
Aiden’s dirty words ruined me.
When I don’t move, he tilts his head to the side. A sadistic smirk lifting his lips. “Or would you like that, sweetheart?”
A knock sounds on the window. I startle out of my stupor.
Aiden straightens, releasing the steering wheel.
I perk up when I see the one waiting outside the window.
Dad.
What was I thinking about bringing Aiden over? Oh, wait. I wasn’t exactly thinking at the time.
I roll down the window. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, Princess.” He smiles. “Come inside.”
I move to open the door.
Dad peers through the window and his smile drops. “You, too, Aiden.”
Shit.
20
Aiden
Ethan Steel is a big man.
Where Jonathan is lean, he’s broad. Granted, he’s not as big as I remember him from when I was a kid, but that’s due to the fact that I grew up not him becoming smaller.
If anything, his strong bone structure is as tall and arrogant as in the past, as if he wasn’t in a coma at all.
He sits behind his mahogany desk, watching me with hawk eyes.
His home office is bland with black and brown sofas and bookshelves. He even has a glass chessboard on the coffee table between me and Elsa.
If he isn’t a replica of Jonathan, I don’t know who is.
Elsa’s legs are snapped closed together as she stares at her lap, her shoes, her jacket. Anything but me or her father. Concern radiates off her in waves and prickles my skin.
I meet Ethan’s stare with a neutral one. He’s trying to intimidate me with silence so when he speaks, I’ll have no choice but to fall at his feet.
Jonathan used to do that, too, until he realised the tactic doesn’t work on me.
Manipulation affects neurotypical people, not me.
“What are your intentions with my daughter?”
He goes straight to the bullseye. I can respect that about him. I like direct opponents.
“Intentions?” I repeat to get a rise out of him.
“You know exactly what I mean.” He plops both his elbows on the desk and leans forward like an emperor planning his attack. “Jonathan must’ve ordered you to ruin her life.”
“How…” Elsa clears her throat. “How do you know that, Dad?”
“I know everything about you, princess.” He smiles at her, but his expression hardens when he focuses back on me.
While Ethan and Jonathan are two facets of the same coin, there’s one difference. Ethan looks at Elsa like she’s his world. He’s doing everything to protect her and her legacy.
Jonathan doesn’t.
His world has turned bleak and sharp since Alicia’s death. Everything he cares about is revenge and power. I doubt he’d bat an eye if either Levi or I fall in the process.
As long as one King remains to carry on with his legacy, he’s all good.
“My intentions towards your daughter are simple,” I say with the calmest, most determined voice I can manage. “She’s mine.”
“Aiden!” she hisses.
I lift a shoulder. I won’t lie to Ethan. Not about this. He needs to know that I’ll fight for her. I’m ready to fight him, Jonathan, and the entire fucking world.
Hell. I’m ready to fight her if she doesn’t snap out of her stubbornness. It used to be adorable, now it’s pissing me off.
I expected Ethan to stand up and throw me out of his house. In all honesty, I wouldn’t be surprised if he sics his dogs on me.
However, he just watches me.
The contempt in his gaze would’ve made me angsty if I weren’t brought up to handle these types of situations.
Stressful, intimidating encounters do nothing to those with the King surname. We were taught to overcome them before we learnt to ride a bike.
Elsa shifts uncomfortably in her seat, smoothing her already perfectly pressed jacket.
The twitch in her nose when she’s stressed out is too cute for words. Now, I’m itching to touch that nose, kiss it, lick it.