Chapter 5 Because I Want to Taste You

• OLIVIA
• There's this strange phenomenon that happens sometimes, the kind where the whole world seems to press pause, and everything just... stops. The music fades into background static, the chatter of partygoers becomes white noise, and all you can register is the thud of your own heartbeat hammering against your ribs. I look up from my phone, and there he is. Aiden Blacksmith. Those dark brown eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that makes my stomach flip upside down, and for a moment that stretches way too long, it feels like the universe has shrunk down to just the two of us standing in this crowded living room. Which is absolutely insane, because we're talking about Aiden fucking Blacksmith, the biggest player in our entire school, the guy who probably has a rotation of girls he keeps on speed dial.
• "Olivia, I am literally so happy for you right now," Ashley's voice cuts through my daze, her breath warm against my ear as she leans in to whisper. Her excitement is practically vibrating off her skin.
• I shrug one shoulder, trying to play it cool even though my insides feel like they've been replaced with jelly. Of course Ashley is thrilled about this. She's been dropping hints for weeks, making little comments about how she just knows something is going to happen between Aiden and me. She's got this sixth sense for these things, or maybe she just wants to live vicariously through me. Either way, her enthusiasm isn't helping my nerves right now.
• A shadow falls over me, and I don't need to turn around to know who it is. My gaze travels upward, past the broad shoulders, past the sharp line of his jaw, until I'm meeting his eyes again. My fingers curl into my palms, nails digging into my skin as I suddenly become hyperaware of everything about myself. Am I standing weird? Is my hair a mess? Do I look like some awkward middle schooler who stumbled into the wrong party, or do I actually look like someone he might want to spend time with? The insecurity crashes over me in waves, and I hate that he has this effect on me.
• "Ladies first," Aiden says, each word rolling off his tongue with that smooth, unhurried quality he has. His voice carries this low, easy confidence that makes my knees feel a little weak.
• I manage to nod, pushing myself up from the couch and keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead as I start walking toward the private room. I refuse to look back at him, but I can feel his presence behind me like a physical weight. Every step I take, I'm painfully aware that he's watching me. Is he checking out my ass right now? Does he think it looks good? I mean, I've been doing those squats consistently for months, but what if he's the kind of guy who prefers something different? What the hell is wrong with me? Since when do I care what Aiden Blacksmith thinks about my body? These intrusive thoughts have officially taken over my brain, and I can't seem to shut them up.
• This is actually happening. I'm not dreaming, not hallucinating, not stuck in some weird alternate reality. I'm about to be alone in a room with Aiden. My sister Sarah's best friend. The guy who's been a constant presence at family dinners and holiday gatherings for years, the one who's always treated me like I'm just his friend's annoying little sister. And now I'm voluntarily walking into a closed room with him, with my heart racing so fast I'm worried it might give out.
• The private room is smaller than I expected, just a king-sized bed pushed against one wall and a cheap wooden desk crammed into the corner. There's a lamp on the desk that casts a warm, dim glow across the space, and the curtains are drawn so tight that no outside light filters through. Whoever owns this house definitely had some specific intentions when they set up this room. It's the kind of space that practically screams privacy, and that thought alone makes my mouth go dry.
• I hear the door click shut behind me, followed by the distinct sound of a lock turning. The noise echoes in the small space, and suddenly all I can hear is the frantic pounding of my own pulse. It's so loud in my ears that I'm convinced he must be able to hear it too. There's no way he can't. My heart is practically trying to escape my chest.
• Aiden starts moving toward me, his footsteps measured and deliberate on the hardwood floor. I don't know what comes over me, but my body reacts before my brain can catch up. I step backward, trying to create some distance between us. He keeps coming, that blank expression on his face giving absolutely nothing away. I keep retreating until my back hits the wall, the cold surface pressing against my shoulder blades through my shirt. There's nowhere else to go now. I'm trapped.
• I hold my breath as he continues closing the gap between us, his pace never slowing. Each step brings him closer, and each step makes my heart beat faster. I can smell his cologne now, something woodsy and warm that makes my head spin. What is wrong with me? Why am I reacting like this? I've known this guy for years, and I've never once felt like this around him.
• "Hey, Olive," he says, and the nickname hits me like a slap. The way he says it, all casual and familiar, makes something twist in my gut.
• I try to respond, to tell him to stop calling me that stupid nickname, but my throat has closed up. The words are right there on the tip of my tongue, but they won't come out. I stand there like an idiot, completely mute, unable to form a single syllable. This isn't me. I'm the girl who always has a comeback, the one who never backs down from confrontation. But right now, I can't even manage a simple sentence.
• Aiden leans in, planting his hands on the wall on either side of my head, caging me in. His face is so close to mine that I can see the individual flecks of gold in his brown eyes, the slight stubble shadowing his jaw. His breath ghosts across my lips, warm and faintly minty.
• "Are you scared?" he asks, and there's something in his voice that I can't quite identify.
• That's it. That's the moment something snaps inside me. Enough of this. I'm not some timid little girl who falls apart because a boy gets too close. I've faced down mean girls in the hallway, teachers who didn't believe in me, my own mother's disappointment when my grades slipped. I can handle Aiden Blacksmith.
• "Why would you think I'm scared?" I manage to get out, and my voice sounds steadier than I expected.
• "Then why is your heart racing like that?" he counters, and that little smile plays at the corner of his mouth. "And why can't you even look me in the eyes?"
• "I don't know," I mutter, and I'm horrified to feel my bottom lip pushing out in a pout. I didn't even mean to do that, it just happened.
• Aiden's fist connects with the wall beside my head, the impact loud and sudden in the quiet room. "Fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to rest against the wall for just a second. "Don't do that."
• I almost open my mouth to tell him to say it again. The way he pronounced that word, rough and desperate, sent this weird flutter through my stomach. I need to get a grip on myself. These hormones are going to be the death of me.
• Raising an eyebrow, I force myself to look at him. "What are you talking about?"
• He lifts his head, and his eyes are darker now, more intense. "The way you pout your lips. It drives me crazy."
• I don't respond. I can't. My brain has officially short-circuited. Aiden Blacksmith just told me that I drive him crazy. That's not something I ever expected to hear.
• A few seconds pass in silence before he speaks again. "Sarah would kill me for this. You know what? Let's just pretend like we don't know each other for a few minutes."
• "Why?" The question slips out before I can stop it.
• "Because I want to taste you," he says, and the words tumble out like he couldn't hold them back any longer.
• His eyes have gone completely dark now, and there's something in them that I've never seen before. It's raw and hungry, and it makes my breath catch in my throat. I know exactly what's coming next, and I don't try to stop it. Some part of me, the part I usually keep locked away, wants this just as badly.
• "God damnit," Aiden growls, and then his lips are on mine.
• This kiss is nothing like I expected. It's rough and demanding, all teeth and desperation. His hands come up to cup my face, tilting my head to deepen the kiss, and I feel like I'm drowning in the best possible way. I've never been kissed like this before, never felt this electricity crackling through my veins. My arms wrap around his neck, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.
• His hands slide down my sides, gripping my waist before traveling back up, tracing every curve of my body. He lifts me off the ground, and I wrap my legs around his waist, our mouths never breaking contact. It's like we're both terrified that stopping means losing something precious. He carries me across the room, his steps sure and confident, and deposits me on the bed without ever pulling away.
• Aiden breaks the kiss to look at me, his chest heaving. He reaches for the hem of my shirt, his fingers brushing against my stomach as he starts pulling it up. Then he pauses, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes me feel exposed in ways that have nothing to do with clothing.
• "Should I stop?" he asks, his voice rough and low.
• "No," I breathe out, and I hate how desperate I sound, how needy my voice comes across. But right now, I genuinely don't care. All I want is for him to keep going.
• A slow smile spreads across his face. "Good girl."
• Those two words send a shiver down my spine, making my skin prickle with awareness. I stay perfectly still, watching him, waiting for his next move.
• "Up, Olive," he orders.
• I raise my arms, letting him slide my shirt over my head and toss it somewhere on the floor. I keep my eyes locked on his, refusing to look away. His gaze drops to my chest, fixing on the front clasp of my bra. That smile appears again, slow and sensual, and I wonder what exactly is going through his head. I want to ask, but I can't find my voice.
• He leans down, his body pressing against mine, and I feel the heat of him everywhere. His lips brush over the curve of my breasts, soft at first, and then he presses a kiss to each one. His mouth travels lower, kissing the skin of my stomach, and his touch is so gentle that it contrasts completely with the roughness of our kiss earlier.
• He lifts his head, his teeth catching his bottom lip for a second before his mouth finds mine again. Our bodies fit together like they were made for this moment, every curve and angle aligning perfectly. He pulls me closer, pressing my center against his hardness, and I can feel exactly how much he wants this. Somebody should pat me on the back for this, because I actually made Aiden Blacksmith hard.
• His hands keep moving, exploring every inch of my body, and I never want him to stop. I might actually lose my mind if he does. The way he kisses me leaves me breathless, my thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. He's so good at this, so skilled and confident, and I feel like I'm drowning in sensations I've never experienced before.
• "Aiden."
• The voice comes from outside the door, muffled but clear enough to penetrate the haze around us. I nearly groan out loud when Aiden lifts his head, pulling back just enough to break the moment. His eyes are still dark with desire, his breathing ragged. I'm trying to gather my thoughts, to make sense of what just happened and what might happen next, but everything feels fuzzy and disjointed.
• One thing I do know for certain, though, is that I want more. I don't care about the consequences, don't care about my sister finding out, don't care about the fact that this could ruin everything. Right now, in this moment, all I want is Aiden.