It would have been a travesty.
“Alright, that’s it, guys. Thank you.” Bill dismissed us.
Avery ripped the drawing from her notebook and handed it to me. “I made something for your fridge.”
“That was thoughtful,” I said dryly. “I look forward to glancing at my impending death every time I want some OJ.”
“See?” She grinned. “I can be nice.”
I grunted.
We walked in silence back to my office. It was nearing ten in the morning. I was supposed to meet Amy for lunch a few blocks over, so I had some time to kill. I went into my office and hit the return key on my computer.
“Do you need me for anything?” Avery popped her head in my office. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her to bend over my desk.
She was right.
I was a horrible human being.
Would probably rot in hell.
But damn, she was pretty.
Her eyes narrowed. “Stop that.”
“What?” I grinned wickedly and shoved a pen in my mouth, sucking on the tip.
Her chest rose and fell a bit faster, her cheeks reddened. “The Lucas Thorn effect doesn’t work on me, sorry.”
“It does, you just won’t admit it.”
She stomped into my office and slammed her hands onto my desk, leaning over so far that I could see down her blouse. Hell, she had nice tits. “Look at me like that again and I’m putting Ex-Lax in your coffee, then locking all the bathroom doors.”
“Graphic.” I licked my lips, craning my neck so I could look into her large green eyes. “Also false.”
“Excuse me?” Her teeth clenched, snapping together as if she wanted to take a bite out of my head.
I got a bit closer, my mouth inches from hers. “You wouldn’t do that to me. You’re too nice.”
She grinned and then shoved at least two weeks’ worth of files off my desk. “How’s that for nice?”
“Mature, Avery.” I let out a series of curses.
Avery bit her bottom lip and then sighed. “Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best idea since you’re assessing me on this internship.”
“Now you think that? After the damage has already been done.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and then her nostrils flared as she narrowed her eyes at me and lifted her chin. “It’s a business relationship. Check my ass out again, and I’ll report you for sexual harassment.”
I stared at her in silence for a minute before I pointed down at the files. “Your job is in the palm of my hand, Avery Bug . . . Maybe next time play nice, or who knows what I’ll be forced to do. I’d hate to give you a bad review—after all, I know how much you hate not being perfect.”
It was a low blow.
She knew it.
I knew it.
All her life she’d been trying to measure up to her older sisters, and I’d just made her aware of it all over again.
I opened my mouth to apologize, but she turned on her heel and left. On her way out of the office, she flipped me off with one hand and waved good-bye with the other.
So much for getting work done. It would take me at least an hour to organize all my files again.
But for some reason, when I got down on my knees and started shuffling them together, I smiled the entire time.
She had fight in her.
I had to give her that.
“Hey,” Amy mouthed, waving me over to the dimly lit booth. She was wearing a short black dress with capped sleeves, and her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. Little smile lines formed around her mouth and eyes. She was beautiful in a mature way, a way that Avery would never understand.
Damn it. I needed to get Avery out of my head before I started calling out her name midorgasm or something.
Which had never happened.
But something told me that if I kept thinking about her like that, it would. And while some women would forgive the whole Hey, I date other women right along with you thing, I was pretty confident that calling out “Avery!” at the wrong moment would be crossing the line.
“Hey, gorgeous.” I kissed her full on the mouth as her arms wrapped around my neck, forcing our bodies to connect and giving me a nice tease until I could get her naked and underneath me. “Mmm, you taste good.” Amy was an amazing kisser. In fact, I was pretty sure she was the best I’d ever had, which was saying a lot.
I didn’t typically kiss many of the girls I was with.
I made an exception for Amy.
Any living, breathing male would.
“Busy day?” She tilted her head and waved down the waiter.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” I winked. “So, lunch and then my place?”
“Sounds great.” Her hands shook a little as she reached for her water. Frowning, I watched in fascination as she chugged half of it and then nearly spilled the rest onto the table.
“Look.” I reached for her right hand and grasped it in mine. “If it makes you nervous, we can just talk.” Damn me to hell, I needed sex. I needed Avery out of my head. Fast.
“No, no. You’ve been so . . .” She nodded way too many times for her words to be believable. “I’m fine, completely fine. You’ve been so patient with me, and ever since Sam died, I just . . .” Her eyes welled with tears. “I think this is best, like ripping off a Band-Aid.”
My chest clenched as I stood and moved to her side of the booth, pulling her into my arms. “Amy, the last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable. Not only will it be a horrible experience for both of us, but you’ll feel guilty. I want you to be free.” I kissed her soft cheek. “I want you to allow me to please you, to bring you pleasure, nostrings-attached pleasure. I’d like to be the first man to do that since his death, but if I’m not the right man for the job, we can end this, no hard feelings.” What the hell was in the water? I meant every word, but damn, losing two girls in one week?
“No.” Her voice was firmer this time. “No.” Her grin was shaky. “I don’t want food.”
The waiter approached just then, and at Amy’s words he hunched his shoulders and walked off.
“I want you.” Her eyes lit up with excitement. “But I may be horrible.”
“It’s been a while.” I nodded thoughtfully. “Let’s just take it one step at a time, alright? You have the right to feel anxious.”
“Lucas Thorn.” She breathed my name. “One day you’ll tell me what turned you into this, but until then . . . I’m going to be grateful for it, even if it was horrible, because I don’t think I could do this with anyone else.”
I didn’t want to talk about my past. That was another thing I made sure my girls agreed to: they were never allowed to utter the question, Who hurt you?
I never talked about it.
And if one of them persisted in asking, I kicked her out of my bed and replaced her, but with Amy, it was different. She needed an emotional connection; hell, she just needed to be needed. Up until her husband’s sudden death she’d been a stay-at-home mom. Her new life was scary, and she was used to having a man depend on her for everything. Now she was back in the workforce and the dating field at the same time. I knew it was terrifying for her.