Aiden
The meeting had gone exactly as I had anticipated—efficient, sharp, and laced with an undeniable tension that had nothing to do with business. Eleanor Kensington was every bit as intriguing in person as she had seemed on paper. Beautiful, poised, but with an air of challenge that made her all the more irresistible.
She had barely spared me a glance, keeping her focus on the paperwork while I had stolen every opportunity to watch her. Those sharp blue eyes, the way she carried herself, the quiet confidence—she was unlike any woman I had encountered. When she extended her hand at the end of the meeting, I took the liberty of kissing her knuckles, watching the slight hitch in her breath before she withdrew.
It wasn't enough. I wanted more.
When she invited me to dinner at her penthouse, I had spent the entire day in an odd state of restlessness, pacing my office, checking the time too often, feeling a tight coil of anticipation low in my stomach. It had been years since I had felt this way over a woman—if ever. I hated the lack of control, but I also couldn't deny that Eleanor Kensington was a rare kind of temptation.
By the time I arrived at her place, the crisp February air had done little to cool the heat simmering under my skin. Eleanor greeted me at the door, barefoot, wearing an elegant silk slip dress that fell just above her knees. Her hair was swept back into a loose bun, a few strands framing her face. Casual, effortless—and entirely captivating.
"Aiden," she said smoothly, stepping aside to let me in.
I took in my surroundings—a modern, sophisticated penthouse with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. A fire crackled in the corner, casting a golden glow across the living room. The scent of something rich and decadent filled the air.
"Cooking for me?" I asked, arching a brow as I followed her toward the open-concept kitchen.
She smirked, pouring two glasses of wine. "Don't look so surprised. I enjoy cooking. And besides, this way, I know exactly what I'm feeding you."
I stepped closer, taking the glass from her hand. "And what exactly is on the menu?"
Her lips curled into a knowing smile. "Patience, Mr. Walsh. You'll see soon enough."
Dinner was an exquisite affair—a carefully prepared meal, a bottle of wine that neither of us seemed to keep track of, and a slow, teasing conversation that unraveled layers of tension between us. Eleanor was sharp, witty, and entirely too good at keeping me on my toes. She asked pointed questions, subtly testing the limits of my control, watching me with those deep blue eyes that saw too much.
After dinner, she led me to the balcony overlooking Central Park. The city stretched out below us, lights twinkling against the dark sky. A light breeze carried the scent of her perfume, something soft and floral, mingled with the crisp winter air.
"It's beautiful up here," I murmured, leaning against the railing.
She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. "It reminds me why I love this city. No matter how chaotic it gets, there's always something breathtaking if you know where to look."
I turned to her, my gaze tracing the curve of her jaw, the way the wind played with the loose strands of her hair. "I think I found something breathtaking tonight."
She inhaled sharply but didn't look away. The air between us shifted, thick with unspoken words, with a pull that had been simmering since the moment we met.
I reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering against her skin. She shivered, but not from the cold.
"Aiden..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.
I stepped closer, close enough that our breaths mingled in the cool night air. "Tell me to stop," I murmured, giving her the chance to pull away.
She didn't.
Instead, she tilted her chin up slightly, her eyes dark with something dangerously close to surrender. That was all the invitation I needed.
I cupped her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek as I slowly leaned in. The first touch of our lips was featherlight, testing, teasing. But the moment she exhaled against my mouth, I deepened the kiss, my hand sliding into her hair, anchoring her to me.
She responded instantly, her body pressing against mine, her fingers curling into my shirt. The taste of wine lingered on her lips, intoxicating, and when I traced the seam of her mouth with my tongue, she parted for me with a soft sigh.
Heat exploded between us. The kiss turned hungry, desperate. I pulled her flush against me, feeling every soft curve, every delicate line of her body molded to mine. She moaned into my mouth, her nails digging into my shoulders, sending a sharp spike of need straight through me.
I let my hands roam, skimming down her back, gripping her waist, reveling in the way she trembled under my touch. She kissed me back with equal fervor, her teeth grazing my lower lip before she sucked it between hers, making my restraint snap like a frayed thread.
I backed her against the railing, pressing my body into hers, the city lights forgotten as the only thing that mattered was the woman in my arms. My fingers traced the delicate strap of her dress, itching to push it down, to feel more of her skin against mine.
Then, suddenly, her phone rang, shattering the moment.
Eleanor pulled back with a breathless laugh, her forehead resting against mine as she tried to steady herself. "Perfect timing," she muttered, amusement flickering in her eyes.
I exhaled harshly, my grip tightening on her waist as I fought the urge to silence the damn thing myself.
She pulled away slightly, pressing a hand to my chest as she caught her breath. "I should get that."
I nodded, though every muscle in my body protested the loss of contact. As she stepped inside to answer the call, I leaned back against the railing, running a hand through my hair, forcing myself to get my breathing under control.
This woman was going to be the end of me.
When she returned, she smirked, her eyes still dark with lingering desire. "You should go before we do something we might regret."
I arched a brow. "Would you regret it?"
She hesitated, then shook her head. "No. But I like taking my time with things worth savoring."
My lips twitched. "You're going to be the death of me, Eleanor Kensington."
She chuckled, walking me to the door. Just before I stepped out, she caught my tie, tugging me down for one last, slow, lingering kiss. "Goodnight, Aiden."
I exhaled sharply, staring at her for a long moment before finally stepping away. "Goodnight, Eleanor."
As I walked to the elevator, my body still thrummed with heat, my mind already replaying every second of that kiss, every soft sound she had made against my lips.
And I knew, without a doubt, that this was only the beginning.