Secret Pleasure. Taryn Leigh Taylor
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By the time she was sixteen, they were nothing more than polite acquaintances, discussing things no deeper than how school was going and summer plans. But he was still the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
Tonight, though. Tonight, Aidan had looked at her like he’d looked at Natasha all those years ago. With heat. With lust.
And it had felt incredibly good to inspire something other than pleasantness in him. Even if he had no idea she was the one doing it. She knew it, and she would let the rush of it wash over her for a long time.
After shutting off the taps, she dried her hands with some paper towels and headed back to the dressing area. One of the other girls loaned her a simple black jersey skirt, and she donned it before stuffing herself back into her corset.
She’d sneak out the side door and wait outside until her Uber arrived to take her home. Of all the nights not to drive herself. But last Friday, one of the other performers had let her know some creep had been checking out her Audi, and Kaylee had decided it might be safer to get a ride this week. A woman couldn’t be too careful.
She skirted along the billiards area, glad that most of the attention remained on the stage, and Ginger Merlot’s performance, where it belonged.
She was almost at the side door, almost all the way to freedom, but she couldn’t resist a final backward glance at the man who’d made tonight one to remember. The pillar would probably block most of him, but she tried to discern the sleeve of his jacket from the post anyway. The creaky metal door to her right swung open and the sound stole her attention a split second before she slammed into someone. Someone big and solid. Someone wearing a leather jacket. Someone whose strong hands steadied her, warm against her arms.
She recognized the scent of him on a primal level.
His proximity did funny things to her pulse.
She couldn’t look away.
Neither of them said anything.
It took her a moment to realize he was still holding her, that she should pull back. But as she looked up at the man who’d starred in many of her girlish fantasies, she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. Because the rush of hormones and lust, the thrill of being so close to him and having him looking at her that way—like he felt some of the maelstrom of desire churning in her belly—was heady...like a wet dream come true.
And suddenly she wanted that dream. Wanted it desperately.
The seductive siren song of rebellion wound its way through her bloodstream.
What would it hurt?
He obviously hadn’t connected her alter ego with her real self. And there was no reason he should.
It was a great wig. She had her contacts in.
Why shouldn’t they both have what they wanted?
And he wanted her. She could feel it in the flex of his hands on her skin the second before he let go of her. Could see it in the flare of his eyes, the tightening of his jaw.
And she definitely wanted him. Always had. But there was nothing girlish about it anymore. It was a triple-X, adult-content-warning kind of want.
Kaylee was high on the rush of a live performance, of their public flirtation, so why shouldn’t it be Aidan instead of her detachable showerhead that made her come tonight?
She licked her lips, and his eyes dropped to her mouth.
Slowly, he dragged them back up her face. And the wicked, dangerous gleam she saw there made her wet. She didn’t want propriety or duty or sweetness from him.
She wanted passion.
She wanted him to want her.
The air grew thick and heavy between them. She could feel her pulse everywhere, as though her skin was beating with it. She didn’t see him reach for her hand, didn’t remember reaching for his, but suddenly there was skin to skin contact as their palms slid together, and the warm roughness of his hand around hers sent an arrow of lust right through her core. The next thing she knew, he’d turned and was tugging her along in his wake. She had to run to keep up with his long strides. Aidan spared a quick look around the bar before he pushed through a door marked Employees Only, and she followed him inside.
Because in that moment, Kaylee would have followed him anywhere.
THE STORAGE ROOM was dark and smelled faintly of chemicals. After a moment, Aidan found a light switch, and a single yellow bulb buzzed to life, revealing a small room filled with cleaning supplies and paper products lined up on four shelving units.
Kaylee didn’t have time to notice anything else, though, because Aidan grabbed her hips and pushed her back against the door, and then finally, he was kissing her. His lips crashed down on hers, his tongue driving into her mouth with a hungry urgency that shocked and delighted her. He tasted a little bit like beer and a lot like sex, and she couldn’t help a groan of satisfied pleasure at the culmination of her longest-held fantasy. Kissing Aidan Beckett.
Take that, Natasha Campbell.
Kaylee buried her fingers in his thick hair, raking her nails over his scalp, running her fingertips along his neck and across his shoulders before she pushed his jacket down his arms and he let go of her long enough for it to fall to the floor with a satisfying thump.
Then his hands were back on her hips, and he’d spun around, walking her backward until she collided with a shelving unit.
He stared down at her, and Kaylee shivered at his hungry look. He shifted closer, cradling her jaw as he lifted her face to resume their kiss. His fingers flirted with the edge of her hair, and some part of her recognized the danger even as his mouth tried to drag her into an abyss of pleasure.
Kaylee had to distract him, keep him away from the wig. She covered his hands with hers, pulled them down her neck and over her collarbone to the top of her corset. Aidan pulled back, but the moment of worry that he’d figured out this wasn’t her hair dissipated as he stared down at her, ran a finger over the swell of her cleavage, the look on his face almost reverent. Kaylee watched as he set about unhooking the closures of her bustier, his long, blunt fingers surprisingly deft on the tiny fasteners. She was mesmerized by the look of concentration on his face as he worked diligently on his task. Just him and her, and an understanding born of heavy breathing and no words.
Her corset joined his jacket on the concrete floor, and she bit her lip to keep from mewling with frustrated pleasure as he cupped her breast, running his thumb across the sparkly black pasty that kept her nipple from basking in the attention it craved.
He was so goddamn gorgeous. The years had been kind to him, darkening his golden hair, turning his features more rugged, widening his shoulders and sculpting his body. He was all man now, and proving her younger self wrong, for teenage Kaylee hadn’t believed there was a way to improve on the perfection of him.
And now he was hers to kiss, to touch, and she didn’t want to miss anything.
She