Trust in Me

She clutched my arms, my sides as she moved restlessly and when I put my mouth to her down there, she came apart in a way that almost undid me right then.

I was shaking like a weed in the middle of a storm as I rose, positioning myself between her thighs. Wrapping my hand around myself, I lined up our bodies. The first contact with her wetness sent shards of pleasure through me.

There was a point when you couldn’t stop and I was at that part, my body trembling with need, but I waited for her. I gave her time.

“I love you,” I told her, resting my hand to her cheek. “I love you so very much.”

Her arms wrapped around me, holding me tight, urging me forward. “I love you.”

Dropping my hand to her hip, I deepened the kiss as I rolled my hips into hers. She stiffened under me, and her soft gasp of surprise went straight to my soul.

I stilled. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

I didn’t want to hurt her and I knew that had to hurt. I remained still, deep inside her. My heart hammered out of control as I kissed the corner of her lip and then the other. Her mouth opened, and I slipped inside, slowly tasting her, giving her body time to adjust.

I groaned as she tilted her hips tentatively, creating startling friction between us. “Av . . .”

She did it again, and I rocked back. A cry of pleasure ripped from her as she gripped me in her tightness, wrapping her legs around my waist. Between that and the way she moved her hips, I lost myself in her in the most glorious way possible.

God . . . nothing felt like her and nothing compared to the feeling of her, of how she invaded every cell of my being. There was no me. There was no her. As we moved together, our mouths clinging to one another, our hands exploring and our hips sealing together, there was only us.

Avery broke under me, throwing her head out and crying my name when I slid a hand between us, touching her as I ground against her. Feeling the tight spasms, the way she held on to me was too much.

“Avery,” I grunted, burying my head in her shoulder as my release blew through me, shocking in its intensity.

The release felt like it kept coming in tight waves. I rested above her, my body jerking every couple of moments. Forever went by before I trusted myself to move. A deep sound came from my chest as I eased out of her.

I kissed her and fuck if I didn’t feel a burning sensation in the back of my throat. I shook my head, dumbfounded by the force of what I felt. “That was . . . there are no words. You okay?”

She placed her hands on my cheeks and they trembled slightly. In her steady gaze, I saw the mirror of what I was feeling. “Perfect. You were perfect.”

The truth was, if I was perfect, it was only because of her. It would only ever be because of her.





Twenty-Nine

That’s where I need to be.

Those were Avery’s words as she’d spoken to the other girl. Molly. I had struggled not be angry when I’d seen the red mark on her cheek. The only thing that helped was hearing those words.

Shortcake finally got it.

The healing she needed did rest in the truth, in speaking out to her parents and to talking to Molly, but she had begun to heal all the way back in February, then again in April. Going to Texas was something she felt she needed to do and she had done it.

So I brought her home and here we were, back in the somewhat cooler state of West Virginia, the night before Avery would start her summer classes and I’d start working with the kids during camp.

Shortcake sat on the kitchen floor across from me, bare legs tucked under her. She wore one of my shirts and that was all. I had a hard time thinking about anything other than that.

Between us, Michelangelo and Raphael were currently head-bobbing each other.

“It’s like a tortoise version of smack talk,” she said, brows pinched. “I’m not sure they like each other.”

I grinned as I leaned back against the fridge, running my hand over the bare skin of my abs. “They still need some time. And Mikey-Mike is territorial.”

“Oh, blame it on my tortoise.” She rolled her eyes. “Yours started the head-bobbing crap first.”

The timer dinged, and I climbed to my feet, heading over to the stove. “He was just showing yours who’s boss.”

“Michelangelo is boss.” Shortcake picked up her little guy, setting him back several feet.

Eyeing the chocolate cookies and finding them done, I quickly washed my hands, then retrieved an oven mitt I was sure Shortcake had never used. The tag was still on it. Grinning, I tore it off and then removed the tray from the oven. The cookies were super-sized, golden and oh-so gooey-looking.

“Are they ready?” She looked up, eyes gleaming.

“You’ll burn your tongue.” I tossed the mitt aside. “Again.”

She grinned. “But it is so worth it.”

“Uh-huh.” I sauntered up to her, enjoying the way her cheeks still flushed when her eyes dipped below my navel. Swooping down, I kissed her upturned lips. “Give them—”