Final Call (The Call #2) by Emma Hart

gradually soaked up by the towel,
and a pair of boxer briefs hangs low on his hips.
    He towels me off
tenderly, making sure every part of me is dry, and instructs me to
lift my arms and legs until he’s certain there isn’t a drop of
water left on my skin.
    “Wait here.” He
disappears into his closet. I’m sitting naked on his bed, the only
light the city lights flooding through the window, and I’ve never
felt more comfortable.
    He emerges from the
closet, a pair of panties in hand.
    “Is that…?”
    “I ordered more.” He
hands them to me with a knowing smirk.
    “That’s impossible. It
was like”—I glance at the clock on the nightstand—“six hours
ago.”
    “And I called while you
were getting ready and had some stuff delivered. My housekeeper put
it away.”
    “Your housekeeper?”
    Holy crap. Someone else
touched my panties.
    Someone who isn’t
Aaron.
    He pulls them up my
legs, making me stand, and lightly smacks my ass. “Don’t worry. She
only comes in when no one is here. Her schedule will be different
now.”
    I roll my eyes and
climb into his bed. Soft. Warm. Sex-smelling.
    Aaron-smelling, rich
and musky and woody and masculine.
    He gets in next to me
and pulls me into him. Our legs tangle. His arms go around me and
he holds me tight. I press my face into his neck, breathing him
in.
    “How am I doing on the
making it up to you?” he mutters after a long moment of
silence.
    “Not bad.” I smile
against his skin.
    “Not bad?”
    My smile widens, but I
say nothing. If I justify it, I’ll let him in further than I need
to. I’ll tell him what he doesn’t need to know yet. He still has
work to do. He still has to prove everything to me, make me know
we’re solid and that everything we have is secure. That it’s really
for real this time.
    “Thank you for looking
out for me tonight,” I whisper, snuggling in even farther. I could
be under his skin and it wouldn’t be close enough.
    “Oh,” he breathes,
kissing my head. “I’ll always look after you, Dayton. Always.”
     
    ***
     
    Aaron opens the car
door and lets me climb out. “You could stay at my apartment.”
    “I need to be here. I
need to pack,” I remind him, patting his chest. “Besides, I don’t
want to put any crazy moving ideas in your presumptuous little
head.”
    “God forbid.” He drops
his head and brushes his lips across mine. “I’ll be back when my
meetings are over to pick you up.”
    “What if I want to stay
at my place tonight?”
    “Then I’ll make sure to
get some spare clothes before I come over.”
    I raise an eyebrow.
“Did I invite you to stay over?”
    “You don’t need to,” he
mutters, running his thumb along my jaw. “I’m going to anyway.”
    “Is this part of making
it up to me?”
    “No. This is part of
making sure you can’t walk away again.”
    “By being together
almost all of the time?”
    “Yes. Get used to it,
sweetheart. It’s not changing anytime soon.”
    He kisses me chastely
and moves me to the side. He climbs back in the car with a wicked
smirk, leaving me standing on the sidewalk as it pulls away.
    “Bastard,” I mutter,
pulling my keys from my pocket and unlocking the door. My voicemail
blinks at me, and I jab the button as I walk past.
    “ Dayton? Call me
when you get this. We need to talk. ” Aunt Leigh’s voice is
sharp and to the point, as always, and I sigh. Talking with my aunt
right now is the last thing I want to do.
    I reach for the phone
when it rings again. Her name flashes on the tiny screen.
    “Hey,” I answer.
“What’s wrong?”
    “Oh good. You’re in.
Where have you been?”
    “Uh…”
    “Dayton.”
    I cringe as I answer.
“With Aaron.”
    “Mmm. Monique called.
Will you be at home in ten minutes?”
    “Yes. I just got
back.”
    “Good. Stay there. I’m
coming over.”
    Fantastic.
    The line cuts before I
can say goodbye, and I drop the phone with another sigh. There
isn’t a single part of me looking forward to this. I know