behind her bulk purchase at the adult superstore.
Right after he made her come all over his hand—which, selfish bastard that he was, happened to be his fantasy du jour.
Reaching deep, he curled his fingers and stroked over his favorite hidden spot inside.
Another broken cry, and he did it again.
Ava’s hips were starting to buck, his own breath unraveling fast with his control, because,
damn,
the sounds she made!
Continuing to stroke, he flicked her suit jacket open, banded his free arm across her torso, and took her breast in hand. She fit exactly right, filling his palm when he kneaded and cupped her. Catching her nipple through the silk and lace, he rolled the stiff tip and stroked again. Harder.
That was it.
“Sam!” she cried, her inner walls clamping down on him as her legs lost their strength and he carried her through to the end.
And then she was panting in his arms, turning slowly in his hold so she was looking up at him with those huge brown eyes, soft and sweet and sated. Sexy as fuck.
How was she still single?
That gorgeous red mouth spread into a wide grin. “Okay, I’m convinced.”
Letting out a tight laugh, because, well, he was still hard as a spike, he raised a brow. “You sure? Because if you’re not, I’d be happy to try again. Give it another go.”
“No, I’m sold.” She looked away, the hot blush riding up her cheeks almost enough to distract him from the flash of something he’d seen in her eyes the second before they left his. He brought her chin back up with the crook of his finger.
“You okay?” he asked, searching for whatever had been there the moment before. “If this isn’t what you want, we can stop. I know it sounds nuts to say that now. But you know, anytime, you only need to say the word and we go back to just friends.”
Sam hadn’t exactly been playing fair when he got this ball rolling. He knew it. But after he’d seen those boxes. After he’d seen her eyes—
shit.
Maybe he’d pushed too hard.
Only Ava didn’t seem to be freaking out. She wasn’t backing away. She was just smiling up at him, letting her hands drift over his chest and arms, then lower to his abdomen. “I know. I don’t want to stop.”
In a way it was weird, because this was Ava and he’d been telling himself “no” for twenty years where she was concerned. But in another way, it seemed like the most right feeling in the world. Because there was no one he was closer to or more comfortable with. He didn’t have to guard his thoughts when they were together; he didn’t have to break the eye contact because it was starting to creep him out and make him wonder what the girl he happened to be with was trying to find.
With Ava, she already knew what was inside him. She knew his darkest secrets. She knew his shame and his pain and all the things he’d never been able to let another person see. No one but her.
She knew everything.
Walking them over to her couch, Sam dropped into the seat and pulled Ava to stand between his legs.
She was looking down at him, that spill of midnight hair streaming over her shoulders, her eyes intent on his.
Reaching for her jacket, Sam eased it from her shoulders and tossed it onto the chair across the way.
“So let’s have it, Ava,” he prompted, taking in the silky spaghetti-strapped top and the way the pattern of the lace showed through at her breasts.
Fucking hot.
“What’s the first fantasy?”
Ava bit her lip, more sexy red tinging her cheeks. “I’m pretty sure I’m living out my most recent one right now.”
Could he get any harder?
“Yeah?” He moved to her skirt, the one he’d had hiked above her waist while he fingered her senseless. He loved this skirt. Carefully he unhooked the catch and lowered the zipper, letting it glide down her hips to where she could step out of it.
“Yeah. Because the only thing I’ve been able to think about was how much I wished we could do this again.”
She pulled off the creamy cami as he
Right after he made her come all over his hand—which, selfish bastard that he was, happened to be his fantasy du jour.
Reaching deep, he curled his fingers and stroked over his favorite hidden spot inside.
Another broken cry, and he did it again.
Ava’s hips were starting to buck, his own breath unraveling fast with his control, because,
damn,
the sounds she made!
Continuing to stroke, he flicked her suit jacket open, banded his free arm across her torso, and took her breast in hand. She fit exactly right, filling his palm when he kneaded and cupped her. Catching her nipple through the silk and lace, he rolled the stiff tip and stroked again. Harder.
That was it.
“Sam!” she cried, her inner walls clamping down on him as her legs lost their strength and he carried her through to the end.
And then she was panting in his arms, turning slowly in his hold so she was looking up at him with those huge brown eyes, soft and sweet and sated. Sexy as fuck.
How was she still single?
That gorgeous red mouth spread into a wide grin. “Okay, I’m convinced.”
Letting out a tight laugh, because, well, he was still hard as a spike, he raised a brow. “You sure? Because if you’re not, I’d be happy to try again. Give it another go.”
“No, I’m sold.” She looked away, the hot blush riding up her cheeks almost enough to distract him from the flash of something he’d seen in her eyes the second before they left his. He brought her chin back up with the crook of his finger.
“You okay?” he asked, searching for whatever had been there the moment before. “If this isn’t what you want, we can stop. I know it sounds nuts to say that now. But you know, anytime, you only need to say the word and we go back to just friends.”
Sam hadn’t exactly been playing fair when he got this ball rolling. He knew it. But after he’d seen those boxes. After he’d seen her eyes—
shit.
Maybe he’d pushed too hard.
Only Ava didn’t seem to be freaking out. She wasn’t backing away. She was just smiling up at him, letting her hands drift over his chest and arms, then lower to his abdomen. “I know. I don’t want to stop.”
In a way it was weird, because this was Ava and he’d been telling himself “no” for twenty years where she was concerned. But in another way, it seemed like the most right feeling in the world. Because there was no one he was closer to or more comfortable with. He didn’t have to guard his thoughts when they were together; he didn’t have to break the eye contact because it was starting to creep him out and make him wonder what the girl he happened to be with was trying to find.
With Ava, she already knew what was inside him. She knew his darkest secrets. She knew his shame and his pain and all the things he’d never been able to let another person see. No one but her.
She knew everything.
Walking them over to her couch, Sam dropped into the seat and pulled Ava to stand between his legs.
She was looking down at him, that spill of midnight hair streaming over her shoulders, her eyes intent on his.
Reaching for her jacket, Sam eased it from her shoulders and tossed it onto the chair across the way.
“So let’s have it, Ava,” he prompted, taking in the silky spaghetti-strapped top and the way the pattern of the lace showed through at her breasts.
Fucking hot.
“What’s the first fantasy?”
Ava bit her lip, more sexy red tinging her cheeks. “I’m pretty sure I’m living out my most recent one right now.”
Could he get any harder?
“Yeah?” He moved to her skirt, the one he’d had hiked above her waist while he fingered her senseless. He loved this skirt. Carefully he unhooked the catch and lowered the zipper, letting it glide down her hips to where she could step out of it.
“Yeah. Because the only thing I’ve been able to think about was how much I wished we could do this again.”
She pulled off the creamy cami as he
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