25

Aiden’s body pushes into mine. It’s subtle as if he’s just leaning in to tell me a secret, but there’s nothing secretive about the way he’s gripping me. In a fruitless attempt to get away from him, my back hits the wall. Aiden grabs both my wrists in a death grip against the cold wallpaper. He manoeuvres my legs so they’re lying on his hard thighs. With this position, it’s impossible to fight him off. Every time I try to squirm free, he digs his fingers into my wrists until I wince in pain. Damn him and his brute strength. I curse my stupidity for locking myself between him and the wall. Why the hell do I always find myself trapped with him? He plants his large palm on my thigh in the small space between my skirt and my stockings. A wave of that strange awareness shoots down my spine. My skin heats and prickles with the tension crackling in the air. My body’s reaction to him isn’t funny anymore. How the hell does he push those buttons? “Aiden,” I hiss through my teeth. “Hmm, sweetheart