‘Oh. So you did get me back to your apartment, then?’
‘Not quite. I got you in the bathroom on launch night.’
‘I screwed you in the bathroom of a show home? Oh God!’ Her forehead falls onto my chest and rolls from side to side in despair. ‘That’s not like me. I don’t do things like that.’
I smile and wrap her in my arms, savouring the moment of her being so close. She wasn’t like that. I know. That was one of the things I loved about her. Problem is, she’s still that young woman in her mind. ‘It was incredible. The want thrumming from your body, mirroring mine. We were inevitable, baby. A spark just waiting to explode. And, trust me, we exploded.’
I swallow, my face in her hair, my body coming to life just talking about that moment in our history. The moment she gave in. The moment the explosion happened.
As a result of my thoughts, my cock starts to stiffen, and it can’t have escaped Ava’s notice, since she’s sitting on the damn thing. She better not move; I can’t promise I’ll be able to hold ba—
She shifts, and I suppress a growl, not very successfully. I’m iron behind my jeans. My veins are hot. My heart jumping. It’s not a good place to be when any kind of Jesse-style fuck is off the table. Lips straight, she finds my eyes, and I see that dormant lust lingering in their depths. She swallows and drops her gaze to my lips. Fucking hell, I’ve never been so starving for her. Never been so desperate to take her. Never felt so paralysed by desire. She’s just staring at my mouth, her body now unmoving on my lap, her mind clearly racing. She wants to kiss me. Wants to taste me.
‘Are you ready to stop fighting it now?’ I ask, being catapulted back to Lusso when I finally got to take what I so badly wanted.
‘I need all of you. Say I can have all of you.’ She immediately looks confused by her words, but I’m fucking elated, because even though she doesn’t know where these words are coming from, they’re coming, and that’s really all the hope I can count on right now.
‘You can have all of me,’ I tell her quietly, even though she already owns every fibre of my being.
She slowly drops forward until her lips gently meet mine. It’s a beautiful moment, one, along with many others, that I will cherish for as long as I live. I don’t take the lead, deciding that I should let her take it at her own pace, and I’m more than happy with her pace. It’s slow. It’s soft. It’s gentle and loving and everything that it should be. It’s everything that I feel.
The sofa melds around my back, and Ava melds into my front, my head resting back, my mouth and my tongue lax to easily follow her movements. My hands keep a firm hold of her hips, just enough to tell her that I’m here and I so desperately want to be. I haven’t tasted her in over a week. It’s the longest stretch I’ve ever gone without kissing her, feeling her, and maybe that is why every sense feels heightened. She tastes more potent; my skin feels hypersensitive to her touch. It’s perfect. So perfect, I never want it to end.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask against her lips when she pauses a beat before resuming her exploration of my mouth, her palms holding my cheeks as if she’s scared I’ll move and break her flow.
‘You are such a good kisser,’ she mumbles, pushing her front into me, not helping with the situation behind the fly of my jeans. Kissing, yeah, great, but I’m not sure if she’s ready for more just yet. ‘It feels like we’ve done this a million times, got it down to a fine art.’
‘We have done it a million times,’ I say, quickly cursing myself when she breaks our lips and pulls away.
‘Of course.’ Her cheeks are flushed, and I’m struggling to fathom whether it’s with embarrassment or desire. ‘Sorry, I got a little carried away.’
Oh, the strength it takes for me not to bark my frustration nearly breaks me. ‘Don’t apologise,’ I order as softly as I can, taking her chin and directing her face to mine. ‘Thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘For that amazing kiss.’
She smiles, almost shyly. ‘Thank you, too.’ Her blush is heartbreaking because it signifies the loss of our time, and deeply gratifying because I can at least make her blush again. She was so used to me after all these years, nothing I said or did fazed her any more.
‘I want to take you out tomorrow,’ I tell her. ‘Do you think you can manage it?’
‘Where are you taking me?’
Reaching for her hair, I push a stray lock over her shoulder. ‘A little trip down memory lane.’
She says nothing, just smiles as I rise from the couch with her still attached to my front. Encouraging her to find her feet, I turn her by her shoulders and push her on. ‘Go get ready for dinner.’
‘Bossy again,’ she muses.
‘Like I said, get used to it.’ I release her at the bottom of the stairs and watch as she takes them slowly, constantly glancing over her shoulder at me. I cock my head, lifting my eyebrows when she tries to hide a secret smile. ‘What’s tickled you?’ I call.
Her delicate shoulders jump up in a small shrug, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. She felt something powerful just then. Something in our kiss that reinforced the rightness of her being here with me. She was lost in that moment, and her mind was blank for all the right reasons.
Chapter 19
The next morning, I’m all set. I’ve called Dr Peters to ensure I’m not pushing her too far, and he reassured me that my plan to revisit some of our past is a good idea. Just to take it easy with her, which was a stupid fucking thing to say. We also chatted briefly about all these small hints of memories, all the words, and he seemed thrilled by that. All in all, I’m feeling pretty good.
I know where we’re going, what we’re doing, and I’m really looking forward to it. That kiss last night. It was just a kiss, but it was earth-moving. I felt like she was breathing hope into me. It made sleeping alone again that little bit more bearable.
‘What are you looking at?’ I ask as Ava performs a full assessment of me in the hallway, her eyes roaming up and down my tall frame.
‘You just don’t seem the type to wear leather trousers.’ She’s thinking so hard she’s frowning. ‘Then again, you didn’t seem the type to own a sex club, either.’ Looking up at me, she shrugs a little. ‘I guess they go hand in hand.’
Laughter so rich and loud spills out of me. ‘It isn’t what you think,’ I assure her, chuckling as I produce another set of leather trousers. ‘These are yours.’
‘Oh God, next you’ll be pulling out a whip.’
I recoil, my arm dropping limply to my side. ‘There’s no whip.’
‘Oh shit.’ Her mouth snaps shut, her disposition quickly awkward. ‘I’m guessing whips are a no-go zone for us.’
‘It’s not the most thrilling part of our history.’ I hand her the trousers, and she takes them, if a little cautiously, not because she’s still wondering what we’re doing and why she’ll be wearing them, but because her mind is whirling about that horrid time.
‘You told me that I punished you, too,’ she says, looking at the leather in her grasp. ‘You punished yourself by being whipped. So how did I punish you?’
I flinch, the cracking of leather across her back echoing through my skull like the perfect kind of torture. Though her reasoning at the time eventually made sense to me, it didn’t make it any easier to accept. Anger sizzles, threatening to surface as I eye her with caution and collect my keys and shades. ‘I’d rather not revisit one of the most horrific moments in my life.’ My answer only seems to enhance her curiosity, and in true Ava style she pushes on.
‘Something tells me that I didn’t dump your arse for a few days. Or give you the silent treatment. So how did I punish you?’
‘It’s not important.’ I make my way to the door, eager to end this conversation. I’m a fool. Evading questions and distracting Ava in the early days of our relationship was what got me in such a mess in the first place. Haven’t I learned?