Still voice-less, I pointed toward the last box I’d packed before going to bed, and he pulled out the first aid kit, placing it on the counter beside me as he went to work on my knee. I couldn’t muster enough shame to be embarrassed by how I must look, with my soggy tee shirt sticking to my body, and my hair plastered to my head, but I could certainly find the lechery to be turned on by the sight of Avery with his soaked tee shirt clinging to the ridges of his abs as he carefully cleaned and bandaged my scraped knee.
“Why the hell did you come running outside like that without any shoes on? You’re lucky this was just your knee, you could have broken a wrist or something with the way you fell.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t want you to leave like that.”
“Well, until you came sprinting into the rain like a crazy person, you could have fooled me.” He secured the bandage with one last piece of tape, then sighed as if he was relieved to be done.
“Thank you,” I said, looking up to try to meet his eyes. It came out of nowhere, and certainly didn’t seem like enough, even though only a complete asshole would have left me outside. But he could have left, just deposited me back at my doorstep and gotten the hell away, so maybe that’s what I was thanking him for. For not leaving me.
He shrugged it off though. “It’s just a scrape.”
I shook my head. “It’s not just a scrape.”
“Tori, it’s—”
“Listen to me. It’s not.”
How did I get him to understand — without seeming like a complete lunatic— that it wasn’t about my knee, and what he was fixing for me was more than just a scrape?
Tentatively, I cupped Avery’s chin. He shied away at first, looking annoyed, but I insisted, scooted forward on the counter until my body was pressed right up against his. He wouldn’t look at me, but I kissed him anyway. Softly at first, barely brushing my lips against his as I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him closer, then pressing harder, until finally he responded in kind.
“I’m supposed to be pissed at you,” he said against my neck as he nipped my skin. “What are you doing to me?”
“Trying to show you what I feel.” Then, I was pulling the dripping tee shirt over his head, and attacking the buckles, and buttons, and zippers, and whatever else was keeping him from being inside of me. I lifted my hips so he could pull my panties down over my legs, then closed my eyes, nestling my head against his neck as he entered me. When he remained still, I opened my eyes and looked up, meeting his.
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
I raised an eyebrow, whimpering as he moved, to thrust deeper. “Question?”
He lowered his mouth to kiss me, hooking his elbow under my knee for more open access as he began to stroke, long, slow, deep strokes that made me gasp at the end of each one. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you? About wha— Ah!” My eyes rolled back as he buried himself completely. I squirmed against the fullness and pressure, but he held me tight, covering my mouth with another hungry kiss.
He gently suckled my bottom lip, nipping it between his teeth before he looked me right in my eyes, and said “Science and algorithms.”
Oh. Yeah.
Between quick, panting breaths, I managed to blurt out “Self preservation.”