Indebted (13 page)

Aaron snakes his arms around my neck and our mouths are again doing battle, soft moans and whimpers coming from both of us. His hands travel to my hair as mine trace the expanse of his back. Skin against skin, I feel like I’m going to turn to ash at the heat we are generating. Our speed picks up, and it’s not going to be long now—we’re both close to the edge.

I hear Aaron mumble, “So good… going to miss this… miss you.”

Those words make my heart hurt and quietly I say, “Me too, beautiful, me too.”

Unable to take it anymore, I focus on the pleasure, pushing quicker and angling my hips just right to hit his pleasure spot.

Throwing his head back, he sobs out, “Oh God, so good…. Ahh, yes!”

He spurts his cream all over our chests and stomachs. Clasping his cock in my hand, I jack him to prolong his orgasm, making him groan. The feel of his muscles contracting around my dick makes me come hard. I roar out my release as I fill the condom.

We rest our foreheads together, panting hard, and as we come down from our high, reality sets in for both of us. This is it—we’re not going to see each other anymore.

Rubbing his back, I peck his plush lips and say, “We should clean up.”

Sighing almost in unison, we get moving and clean up. After an awkwardly quiet breakfast, Aaron goes and packs his clothes in the overnight sack I bought him. I feel a weight settle in my stomach when he comes out, bag on his shoulder, looking everywhere but at me.

Clearing my throat, I tell him, “Here, I want you to give this note to your dad.” I pause to hand him the paper, then continue. “I, um, want to give you my personal cell number.” Lifting his chin with my fingers so our eyes meet, I see he appears to be as sad as I feel. “I want you to call me anytime, day or night, if you need me. You understand?”

He nods, hands me his phone, and I promptly type in my number. Taking the cell back, he bites his lip, seemingly gauging whether to say something or not, and I wait, not wanting to push him.

Eventually, having made his decision, he asks, “Do you… do you want my number? You know, just in case…. Hell, I don’t know… just do you want it?”

Fuck yes, I want it. Even better, I don’t want to have to use it because you’re right next to me.

I answer with a smile. “Of course I do. Maybe we can talk sometime. I don’t know, maybe about movies or something.”

He looks happier at my answer. It gives me some comfort that I can do that for him.

Sighing, he says, “I guess I should get going. I probably have to be at work tomorrow. Dad won’t be giving me the week off.”

I can’t help it. I want to stay in his presence. If only long enough to take him home. “Do you want me to drive you?”

“No, I’ll just take a cab, I think.” I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. I had hoped that he would want the time too.

Disappointed, I agree, “Oh, okay.”

I walk him to the door and we pause there. I’m unable to resist, and I grab the back of his neck, attacking his lips with a fierce kiss, as I pour into it everything I’m feeling right now. I moan loudly as he deepens it, trying to do the same thing, I think. Pulling away, breathless, he grasps the handle, opens it, and whispers good-bye.

In the next blink, he’s gone.

After showering, I head to work. The dreary, gray day suits my mood perfectly. Sitting down in my office, images of Aaron flood my mind, and I feel the weight that was in my stomach travel to my chest. Taking a deep breath, I pick up the phone and get to work. I have to get over it because Aaron will never be mine, can never be.

Several hours and calls later, I’m fighting the urge to contact him. I want to, and I keep looking down at my cell as if willing it to ring. Giving in, I text him, using the only excuse I can think of….
Did you get home okay?

I wait, hoping for a response. A few seconds later, he does, and I have a goofy grin on my face at the thought of him doing so quickly. That has to mean something, right?

Home safe and sound. Thanks for checking :)

Did you give your dad the note?

Not yet, headed there soon.

Unable to think of anything else to say, I sigh and set the phone down on my desk. Grabbing some paperwork to busy myself, I start to read, when I hear my phone signal another message.

Viewing it immediately, I read,
How is your day going?

Feeling absurdly excited he’s trying to continue the conversation, I answer,
It would be much better if it was yesterday. I enjoyed our time together.

Me too. I’m sorry things aren’t different. I wish they were.

Same here.

I try to shake myself out of the sad mood I’m finding myself in.

Fuck! Stop torturing yourself. It can never be. He told you as much.

That’s enough; I don’t say anything more.

Much of the week passes as uneventfully as it can get in my line of work. Everyone is bitching about my sudden attitude problem. Fuck them—I don’t give a shit what they think. I’m here, I’m doing what I’m supposed to, and that’s fuckin’ enough. I don’t have to act like I’m happy to be here.

The one highlight of my day on Wednesday is that Aaron texts me again, and we talk for a few minutes through messages. It’s the only thing that saves an asshole in my office—some lame loan holder has come in here trying to get an extension. Hearing his stupid excuses is grating on my nerves, and I let him go so I can see what Aaron wrote.

Why did you do that?

Knowing he has read what was written in the note I sent to his father, I answer.
Because I wanted to. You’ve seen my reasoning?

I did, thank you.

Not ready to stop talking, I ask a generic question.
So what have you been up to this week?

Oh, not too much. I’ve been catching up with Chloe and working mostly. I came across
Groundhog Day
on TV today. It made me think of you.

Happiness fills me that he’s thinking of me.
Yeah? I’ve been thinking of you too. I’ll never look at ice water the same way again.

LMAO, that was so funny. I never thought you would scream like a girl :P

Oh, that little shit! I’m chuckling as I type,
I did NOT scream like a girl! That was YOU when you were caught ;)

Mmmm, I liked getting caught.

I suck in a sharp breath, and arousal shoots through me at the thought of what happened when I caught him. Even more of a turn-on is that he is thinking about it.

Fuck! You made me hard with that one sentence. It’s going to be tough getting through this next meeting.

:D My work is done here then. Have a good day. I have to get back to my guest.

I’m on a high for a few moments since he had been flirting with me, and I loved it. I feel like myself for the first time all week. Then my mind starts in on me. Who is this guest? Is he on a date? Nah, he was talking and flirting with me. He wouldn’t do that if it’s somebody important or a date.

Tired and ready to be finished with my day, I go home. Once there, I take a quick shower and climb into bed. I’ve been arriving home late every night this week, and I know it’s because I’m avoiding being here without Aaron. It’s silly, really. He was here for one great weekend; that was it. Why my home feels so empty now, I don’t understand. Lying in bed, I glance over at what in my mind is his side of the bed. Sighing, I turn over, facing away from it.

When I get to work on Thursday, I know this is going to be a day from hell. Exiting my car, I see the bastard Natives have tagged my building. I thought I had sent a strong enough message to Sam.

At the reception area, Addison is fidgeting and looking nervous. There’s only one person that causes that reaction from her…. Thomas. Just fuckin’ great—his visits are never good news.

Stepping into my office, Thomas is holding court while sitting at my desk. Flanking him is my father, John, and Mike—two of his best kiss-asses. Off to the side, I observe he’s brought some muscle with him, too: Donovan and Joe.

Steeling myself for what’s to come, I ask, “Thomas, how can I help you?”

He leans forward, giving me a hard stare. “You’re seriously asking ‘How can I help you?’ when those animals have spray painted my building with graffiti?”

Yeah, I knew it was a stupid question, but I have no clue what to say to this jerk. “I just got here and plan on handling it immediately.”

Tsking, he stands up and walks until he’s directly in front of me. “Liam, I sent you once already to ‘handle it,’ and this is what happens.”

“I did take care of—” He cuts me off with a growl and backhands me across the face.

“Don’t you sass me, boy. I know you have no enthusiasm for your job, but when I tell you to do something,
you do it
!” I’m furious—shaking with it, in fact—but I stand there. “What, Liam? You want a piece of me? I can see it, and I don’t think you want me to show you my special skills with knives. They don’t call me ‘The Surgeon’ for nothing.”

Taking a deep breath, I reply, “No sir, I just want to tend to the situation at hand.”

The bastard reaches up and pats my cheek. “Good boy, that’s more like it. Now, I have it on good authority that a young man by the name of Evan did this, probably proving himself or some shit. Make him understand he proved himself an idiot—understand?”

“Yes sir,” I reply as Thomas turns to his entourage.

“Let’s go. Liam has a job to do.” Glancing back my way, he reinforces his warning. “This is your last chance to show me you can do your job. If not, your punishment will be swift and harsh—I believe in no other kind.”

Moving hastily, I have Addison call Luke and Tristan. I talk to one of my intel guys to get the location of this Evan person. We find him in an alley with Adam. They’re probably dealing dope or something, knowing these losers. The alley is perfect, though, because it’s out of the way and a dead end.

Wasting no time when we step into the passageway, Luke and Tristan secure Adam. Evan runs, but I expertly catch him and teach him a lesson. Punching him repeatedly, I let my fury and anger from earlier take over, as I pour all the frustration from this week into every blow. Soon, Evan is on the ground, barely coherent.

I grab a fistful of his hair and shout at him, “This is what happens when you’re dumb enough to tag my building with your stupid shit. I will kill you if you do anything to piss me off next time, you hear me?” He barely nods, and I let him go. Turning to Adam, who has been putting up one hell of a struggle against Tristan and Luke, I say, “Learn this time. I will kill you if you push me again.”

He glares at me with hate. “I hope you feel like a big man, beating up my little brother.”

I’m surprised this is his brother, but I don’t feel bad for either of them. “Well, maybe you should be teaching your brother to stay in school instead of messing with this gang crap. Don’t blame me, you put him in this situation.”

Leaving them, we head back to the office. Luke drives himself in his car and Tristan rides with me. We’re both quiet, but Tristan keeps glancing my way. I know he wants to say something, but he holds his tongue.

Friday rolls around, making me think of the weekend coming up with no Aaron. By the middle of the day, I find myself texting him again.
You’re pathetic. You need to let him go.

How’s your week been? Because mine has been shit without you.

It’s been okay. Finally getting out of the house tonight. Having coffee with Kyle. I’m looking forward to it.

With that statement, I know I’ve lost him. He’s slipped right through my fingers and into the hands of that jerk, Kyle. What little hope I had is gone. Anger and pain flood me. Screaming, I throw my phone against the wall, causing it to break into pieces.

“God damn it!” Not done yet, I throw a chair across the room.

Tristan bursts into my office, gun drawn. “What the fuck is goin’ on here?”

Coming out of my fog, I look at him as I try to swallow the lump in my throat, and shake my head. Tristan puts his gun away and closes the door.

Putting his hand on my arm, he says, “You need to tell me what the fuck is going on with you. You’ve been an asshole to everyone this week. You’re my friend, I want to help. I can’t if you don’t talk to me.”

I take a deep breath and let it out as I answer him. “It’s, um…. Aaron. I can’t see him anymore.”

“The guy you were with at the club? You looked like you were getting along more than fine to me. What happened?”

Oh yeah, we definitely were “getting along fine.” That’s the fuckin’ problem. I don’t want to let that go, and I know better.

“He’s too good for me, Tristan. He’ll never fit into this life, and besides, it’s too dangerous.” Even as I speak the words, my heart rebels at the idea. When the fuck did I become such a damn romantic?

Tristan looks at me disbelievingly. “So you broke it off with him?”

“It was mutual. It hurts, man. I really wanted to be with him. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” I stop when I hear my voice waver.

He squeezes my arm in a way to give comfort. “This happened Monday?” I nod, and looking confused, he asks, “So what set you off a few minutes ago?”

Feeling embarrassed, I mumble, “I’m still texting him. He told me he has a date with that asshole from the club.”

He sighs, frustrated and starts pacing. “I think it’s time we have a talk, so you’re going to sit your ass down and listen. You got me?” I sit down, curious as to what he has to say. “Now, I’ve watched you over the years, denying yourself everything because of this business. I know you had no choice joining this outfit, but you do have a choice here to be happy. I saw the way you were looking at him—it’s how I look at my Addison. He was looking at you the same way. Are you sure it’s a date? Was that his exact wording?”

Clearing my throat, I answer, “No, he said he was getting coffee with him.”

“Okay, then he could be meeting as friends.” I know he’s trying to convince me, but I’m not so sure he’s right. “As far as fitting into this life? He doesn’t have to be a part of it. There is a certain level of danger involved, I’m not going to lie, but you have the resources to protect him. Do you want him, Liam?”