Final Call (Call #2)(25)
Author: Emma Hart

I can feel the thump of my heart against my legs, the hectic rise and fall of my chest. And the fear. The very real fear, racing through my body and taking hold of me.

The fear of losing everything.

Of losing my control. Of losing the relationship I have belief in. Of losing the man I love.

But if I leave him, Naomi loses her trump card.

If I leave him, he’s safe. She can’t hurt him or the business.

If I leave him, I’ll slowly but surely destroy us both.

I dig my fingernails into the inside of my thighs. That isn’t an option. We have things to work through and things to prove, but I can’t walk away from how far we’ve come or how far we have to go.

I turn off the taps, lie back, and sink beneath the water. It sloshes around me as I move, and I lift my legs out of the tub and rest them on the edge. I lean up for a breath before dropping my face back down again.

Beneath the water, it’s silent, and it quiets the crazy in my mind. It calms the beating of my heart until it settles to the steady rhythm I know so well, and the tension seeps from my body in the hot water.

Two hands grab my arms and lift me from the water. “Jesus, Dayton!”

Aaron pulls me into his chest. I’m still sitting in the water and he’s still in his suit. His hands shake against my bare back.

“What the f**king hell were you doing?” he rasps into my wet hair, holding me tight.

“Relaxing,” I whisper.

“You know most people watch TV or have a glass of wine, right? They don’t ignore their calls and submerge themselves in water.”

“I’m not most people.” I wriggle from his hold and climb from the tub.

He hands me two towels. I wrap my hair in one and the other around my body before walking into my bedroom.

“I know that. Shit, Day.” He grabs me again. “I’ve been calling you for an hour. I’ve been so worried about you.”

“Wait. How did you get in? You didn’t bash the door down like you did on the boat, did you?”

Aaron pulls back, a smile on his face despite the worry in his eyes. “No, I didn’t break your door down, sweetheart. You didn’t lock it.”

I bite my lip. “Oops.”

He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment on it. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

A thought crosses my mind. “How did you get my new number?”

“Irrelevant.” He dismisses it with a wave of his hand.

I grab some underwear and walk back into my room to find him leaning against my headboard, his jacket discarded and his shoes kicked off on my floor.

“Mmph. Okay.” I clasp my bra and slide my thong up my legs. “I was in the bath and didn’t hear it ringing upstairs.”

“For a whole hour?”

“Time ran away from me. I had a bad day.” I rub my hair with the towel and grab the dryer from the top of the dresser. The bed creaks behind me, and a second later, Aaron’s hand closes around mine.

“What happened?”

“Just stuff.” I shrug and turn on the hairdryer. Aaron flicks the switch on the wall, cutting the hot air.

“Dayton.”

I meet his eyes in the mirror. “I had a bad day. It sucked. End of discussion.”

Something in my tone must tell him that pushing me won’t work this time, because he backs off with a sigh. I lean over, turn the power back on, and perch on the end of the bed.

I can feel his eyes on my back as I blast my hair dry. The irony of this situation doesn’t escape me. I’m holding out on him and berating him for keeping something from me, yet here I am doing the exact same thing.

And the same woman is at the center of both.

I should turn around and tell him. I should tell him about her showing up and blackmailing me—but that will do nothing except give her what she wants. I know that, when it comes down to it, Aaron will do whatever it takes.

He already said that there isn’t a price he wouldn’t pay for me.

Two and a half million is a steep price, but he’d pay it without blinking.

I don’t want him to do that. I don’t want her to have that control over him any longer. She held that for long enough, dictating and holding back on something that should have been sorted. She controlled far too much of his life for far too long.

Now, the only person who gets to have any semblance of control over him is me.

I place the hairdryer back on top of the dresser and run my brush through my hair. He’s still sitting on the bed, and now his tie is sitting on my nightstand. The top button of his shirt is open, but my focus is on the material stretching across his shoulders and the way it clings to his body. It’s on the smatter of dark hair peeking over the top of his shirt and the faint outline of his abs. It’s on the pleasure and release I know he can provide. The release I know he will selflessly provide me.

The few seconds of pure nothing.

He rests his cell facedown next to his tie and peers at me through heavy eyelids when I crawl up the bed. His eyes darken, roaring with heat, when I straddle him and grab his collar.

“Dayton.” My name is a low growl, a warning, a threat, a promise.

I roughly press my lips to his, and his hands slide up my thighs and curve round my ass. My tongue flicks against his lips, demanding they part for me, and I slide my hands in his hair. I tug a little, pressing my core against him, and he groans.

Our tongues meet in a heated desperation driven solely by me. If I’ve ever needed him, truly craved his touch, it’s right now. I need the sweet release and spiral of bliss I know Aaron can provide for me.

His fingers dig into my backside, holding my hips to his. His erection presses against me and I rub against him, each gyrate of my hips hardening his ready c**k further. I make quick work of the buttons of his shirt and shove it over his shoulders. His skin is smooth and hot beneath my fingertips as I run them down his body to his belt. My knuckles brush my throbbing clit as I unbuckle it.

I shove his boxers down with his trousers, leaving them around his knees, and reach between us. I wrap my fingers around the silky pink skin of his shaft and stroke him almost roughly. Aaron groans again and grabs my hand, moving it so the head of his c**k rubs against my clit.

My juices coat him in seconds, and when the first clench takes over my body, I ease myself onto him instead.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans into my shoulder.

I wind my fingers back in his hair and move against him. My lips part and my breathing speeds at each movement. This isn’t like before—even when it’s been rougher. There was always endless passion and seduction.