by J. L. Beck
He walks us to the front door and unlocks it without ever letting go of me. I’m a little more awake and a little less drunk now that I’ve had a short nap and some fresh air.
“What’s going on between us?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
Vance is suddenly so different. Less angry and brooding but I can’t figure out what’s changed aside from his attitude. It’s almost like he’s repressing his feelings. Is he sick? Has he hit his head? It’s kinda like he’s the old Vance, like he’s my friend and not my enemy.
Oh God, maybe I’ve missed him so much over the years, that suddenly now I’m imagining him being nice to me. But I can’t possibly be imagining his gentle hands or soft voice. He helps me up the stairs and all the way into my room where he navigates me to the bed before pushing gently on my shoulders to make me sit.
“What do you mean what’s going on with us?” he finally asks, startling me. I had almost forgotten I asked him a question.
Sighing, I blow out a big breath. “I mean, you’re being nice to me, helping me…”
Rolling his eyes, he ignores my question and instead asks his own, “You need help getting undressed?”
“Who are you and what have you done with brooding, angry, Vance?”
Vance wants to smile, his lips trying their hardest to tug up at the sides.
“Clothes, Ava. Do you want them off? I’ll help you if you need me to.”
I don’t really need help, I could probably manage on my own, but I want him to help me. I want to feel his hands on my skin, burning a blazing path of fire all the way down to my center.
Giggling, I say, “I bet you would…” And because patience has never been Vance’s strong suit, he leans down and grabs the hem of my shirt.
“Lift your arms,” he orders.
I do as he says as he pulls the shirt up and over my head. Cool air hits my heated skin, and I shiver, a light dusting of goosebumps blanket my arms.
“So bossy,” I mumble under my breath.
He ignores my comment and instead reaches for my shoes, pulling them off and placing them on the floor. Green eyes meet mine, there’s a hunger in those depths, but it’s nothing that scares me, or even worries me.
It’s a normal Vance look, intense, and possessive, and made to be felt. He gently nudges my shoulders, making me lie back on my bed. My pulse is racing, my heart slamming against my rib cage like it’s trying to escape my chest and fly away.
Then he flicks the button on my jeans and pulls them down my legs slowly, so damn slowly I’m pretty sure he’s trying to kill one of us. Probably me.
Once he’s done, I’m left on the bed wearing nothing but my black lace panties and a bra, and somehow even that seems to be too much clothing. I want every inch of fabric gone, and I want Vance to lose his clothing too, so it’s nothing but our heated bodies, skin to skin.
I twist in the bed, hoping that he won’t leave just yet when the stupid underwire of my bra digs into the side of my boob. Stupid bras, who made this damn contraption anyway.
“You probably don’t know this…since you’re a guy and don’t have a pair of tits, but bras get really uncomfortable after a while. Definitely not something you want to sleep with…” My voice trails off. I’m staring up at him, unable to remove my eyes from his smug, arrogantly, ridiculously handsome face.
“Is that right? Are you asking me to take your bra off? Because I must say, I’ve never had a chick ask me to take her bra off just so she can go to sleep. Most of the time, I’m not touching their tits.”
I start nodding halfway through the question.
He peers down at me for a few seconds like he’s weighing his options, considering if it’s a good idea or not. Do it. I think to myself, secretly tempting him.
Do it. Touch me.
As if he’s made up his mind, he sighs and leans over me, slipping a hand underneath my back. His fingers are warm, and I shiver again at his gentle caress. I arch my back to give him better access, but mainly so I can tease him by pushing my boobs into his face. I’m impressed when he quickly unhooks the bra with one hand without even seeing the hooks in the back.
“Impressive, Mr. Preston. You’ve got some mad skills there,” I taunt teasingly.
“You haven't seen anything yet.” The mischievous glint in his eyes tells me I probably haven’t. Vance is way more experienced than I am. I’ve had sex with one guy, and it was all fumbling and awkwardness. Nothing like I know sex with my bully, my enemy would be.
Before he has the chance to straighten and pull away, I snake my hands around his neck and make an attempt to pull him down on top of me. He’s huge, tall, and muscled, and all I can seem to think about is the weight of his body on mine, our skin touching, his fingers digging into my hips while he thrusts his hardened cock into me.
Ugh, I need to get laid, and by someone that isn’t Vance.
Anticipating my next move, his fingers wrap around my wrists, halting any further advancement. Oh, shucks. It seems the asshole as grown a conscience.
“You’re drunk. Go to sleep, Ava.”
“You’re drunk. Go to sleep, Vance,” I mock, sticking my tongue out at him.
“Sassy. Not much has changed about you, has it? You still make me want to throttle you,” he says heatedly.
“Well, I feel the same about you too,” I say before slipping out of my bra, and flinging it across the room. I can feel my nipples tighten now that they are free from the bra and I know if he would touch them, touch me, they would harden to stiff peaks.
Excitement and lust pulse through me at the thought.
“Stay with me,” I whine, giving him my best pout. I don’t want this precious, unhateful moment to end between us. It’s too soon. I’ve only got a taste of the old Vance and I’m not ready to give him up yet. “Please…” I say a second later, because the apprehension flickering in his eyes tells me he doesn’t want to give in.
He exhales all the air in his lungs, and his jaw tightens. He shakes his head as if he’s telling himself he shouldn’t do it, shouldn’t stay, but just like me, he can’t let go of whatever is happening right now. So instead of leaving, he starts to take off his clothes. Gulping, I swallow down the groan forming in my throat.
His shirt is the first to go and when the simple t-shirt is pulled away, he extends it to me.
“Here, put this on.” There’s a seductiveness to his voice that calls out to me.
“Do you have a problem with boobs?” I tease, feeling light-hearted and free. He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip, letting his eyes run over my bare chest. Of course he’s not shy about looking. My tits aren’t huge, more like a handful each, but they aren’t bad either. I mean boobs are boobs, right?
“Nah, your tits are perfect. Now put the shirt on, before I put it on you myself. I’m a man of my word, so for tonight your virtue is safe with me.”
“You’re so bossy, and I’m not a virgin, there is no virtue to save,” I grumble, pulling on his shirt awkwardly before shoving down into the pillowy mattress.
“Virgin or not, it’s not happening, so stop being a pain in the ass.”
I watch him intently as he gives me my own personal striptease. My mouth starts watering and moisture builds between my thighs with every piece of clothing he tosses to the floor.
Once down to his boxers, he slides into the bed beside me, the bed is a queen, but with his bulking frame in it, it feels like a twin. He pulls the blanket up and over both of us. Feeling extra brave, I slide across the sheets and over to him until my body is pressing up against his side. He starts to move, and all I can think is, shit, he’s about to push me away, but instead he does the opposite and slides his arm under my head the motion drawing me closer to him, if that’s even possible.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, suddenly feeling like I need to apologize even though it wasn’t me who made myself look like a giant ass tonight. Kidding aside, we should really talk about it. The giant elephant in the room. It’s weighing heavily on bo
th of us. I don’t know Vance as well as everyone else, but I do know that he wasn’t acting like himself at that party.
“Shhh…” Vance whispers as if he doesn’t want to hear my apology. Pressing my cheek against his red hot skin, I inhale deeply, sniffing him. Damnit. Even his skin smells good like soap and cloves, and I kinda want to take a bite out of him like a chocolate chip cookie.
But even his scent can’t mask the exhaustion I’m feeling. All this fighting, pretending, it’s wearing me down. The wakefulness I felt a few minutes ago evaporates, and I yawn into Vance’s side, none too lady-like. My eyelids droop, fluttering open and closed a couple times. I’m about to doze off with hopes I don’t drool all over his chest when Vance’s deep rumbling voice fills my ears.
“What happened…like really happened, that night five years ago?” With my eyes still closed, I answer him.
“You dared me…remember?” I ask sleepily. Maybe he did hit his head if he can’t remember what happened that night.
“Yeah, and then? What happened then? What happened after that, after you went into the house?”
My brain is like a cookie jar that you can’t see the contents too, my hands digging through the memories trying to place the right one. It seems to take me an eternity partially because I’m drunk, but mostly because it’s not a memory I’m really all that fond of.
“I-I snuck into the house…” I take a deep breath, almost falling asleep during my pause, but for some reason, I still manage to get the rest of the words out. “I went into my parents’ bedroom…”
“And?” he questions, his voice a low hum, his fingers playing with a couple strands of my hair. It’s all too much, his gentle caress, body being so near, all the exhaustion, and my mind starts to shut down mid-sentence.
“I saw them…” The words come out as a whisper, so softly I’m surprised that even I hear them.
“Saw who? Who did you see, Ava?” Vance’s panicked voice bleeds in my subconscious but I’m too far gone to answer him, sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness, deeper and deeper into his arms.
37
Vance
The sun starts to peek up over the horizon, little glimpses of it filtering through the window blinds in Ava’s room. I shouldn’t have stayed last night, hell, I should get up and leave right now. But I can’t. My body physically will not move. It’s like I’m in a trance, weakened beyond measure by her presence.
After what she said to me before she fell asleep, there was no way I was going to get a wink of sleep. My mind was running a mile a minute, trying to figure out who and what she saw. I even tried to wake her up, but she was too exhausted and too drunk to open her eyes, and batted my hands away in protest. Which leads me to where I am right now.
Staring at her like a peeping tom.
Watching her sleep all night, her pink lips parted, her mousy brown hair splayed across the pillow and my chest while the tiny strands tickled me, it was worth staying for. Never had I watched another person sleep, let alone a woman. I realize then that Ava could be my first and my last. No. She can’t.
I let my gaze fall over her bare thighs, my shirt riding up. Fuck, she looks good in my shirt. She’d probably look good with my cock in her too. I lick my lips envisioning it, fuck yeah, she would. My cock hardens to steel instantly, and I try and think about anything other than Ava’s perfectly sized tits, creamy white thighs, or pink lips.
Old saggy tits. Clark’s asshole.
Ahh, fuck what’s the point. It doesn’t matter what I think about, my dick knows Ava is lying next to me half naked.
Just when I think it couldn’t possibly get any worse, she starts to stir beside me, her leg sliding over my thigh inches away from my dick. Fuck. I try to move my leg, inching it away from hers, but all she does is move closer, like I’m her personal pillow.
She snuggles deeper into my side, her knee inching closer until it actually grazes my dick. I can’t help but close my eyes, biting back a groan that I know will surely wake her up. An explosion of pleasure floods my body. I can’t believe that single touch felt so good.
Realizing that she’s stopped moving, my lid’s flutter open, my gaze dropping to her face, where I find two emerald green eyes staring back at me. A warm flush creeps up my throat. The knot of anxiety tightening in my belly.
We need to talk, but the last thing I want to do right now is talk, unless it’s with my cock. Her fingers trace over my washboard abs lazily.
I damn near gulp at the sensation, my body humming. If she doesn’t stop touching me, I won’t be responsible for whatever happens next.
Fuck me is a bad idea. We shouldn’t do this. But I want to. I want to so bad.
“We should…” I start, but the words are cut off, as Ava pushes up off the mattress, and covers her mouth with my own.
For one split second, I’m shocked, so shocked I can’t even move my lips.
What are we doing?
Every single rational thought that doesn’t center around sex flies right out the window when she tosses a toned leg over my body and straddles me, centering her warm pussy against my abs. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I have to stop this. I don’t deserve her, and we need to talk. I go to push her away, but she sinks her nails into my chest like a kitten, the little sparks of pain taking a beeline straight to my cock. My resolve snaps and my fingers weave into her hair as the exact opposite of what I intended. Deepening the kiss instead of pushing her away. If I’m going to have her, then I’m going to have her completely, every single gasp, moan, plea is going to be mine. Her pelvis grinds into me, her wet heat sliding over my skin.
I pull back a fraction of an inch. “If you don’t want me to fuck you, then you need to stop this right now.”
That’s the only warning I’m giving her. If she keeps her slickness on me, or swivels her hips one more time…
“Pretty sure the entire reason I’m straddling you is because I want you to fuck me.” The cheeky grin that forms on her lips is one I want to replace with pleasure.
“Fucking, that’s all this is.” My heart constricts inside my chest at the words.
She licks her lips and says, “Give me your worst, Vance Preston.”
My name falls from her lips like a prayer. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, and my cock is straining so hard I’m pretty sure I have the worst case of blue balls ever, I reach for her and slide my hands underneath the t-shirt she’s wearing until my fingers make contact with her hips.
Then I trail those same fingers downward and slide the fabric of her panties to the side revealing her pink pussy spread open for me like rose petals, each one begging to be plucked.
Perfection at its finest.
Dragging my fingers through her wet folds, a shudder ripples through me before I sink two of my thick digits into her tight entrance without warning. Her green eyes widen, squeezing together at the intrusion, and for a moment I worry I’ve hurt her. She said she wasn’t a virgin, how long has it been since she fucked a guy?
When she doesn’t say anything, the thought disappears and I pick up my pace, scissoring my fingers, angling them in a come-hither motion.
“Fuck, Ava, look at this pussy… so fucking wet for me. Tightening with every stroke. You want to come, don’t you?”
She nods her head frantically, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her pebbled nipples straining against the thin fabric of my t-shirt. Her reaction to me is everything I had hoped it would be and more.
Pumping in and out of her tightness, I keep my eyes on hers. She fists the sheets at her sides and bites into her plump bottom lip while I stretch her to accommodate my length. She’s tight, so fucking tight and it’s going to be an even tighter fit.
Most of the time, I don’t take the time to prepare the women I fuck. But Ava isn’t just some random to me, she’s everything, the beginning, the middle, and the end. And I’m going to make this good for her, even if I die trying.
With two fingers inside her, I take my thumb a
nd press it against her diamond hard clit. I’m ready to be inside her…so fucking ready.
Pulling my fingers out of her, I earn myself a whimper. When she comes, it’s going to be around my cock, so I can feel every spasm and quiver her pussy makes.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get to come soon enough.” Gripping onto her hips, I push her off of me, laying her down on her back. Hooking my thumbs into her panties, I drag them down her legs, my knuckles running against the supple, soft flesh.
Her shirt goes next and I throw both pieces of clothing onto the floor. Pausing for one single moment, I drink in her naked body before me. Everything about her is perfect. I want to look at her for hours, explore every inch of her body, but my cock is done waiting. I have patience but when it comes to her, I’m like a small child giddy with excitement as he reaches into the cookie jar.
Pushing my boxers down over my hips, I free my length. The head of my cock is swollen and an angry red. Poor fucking guy. Wrapping my hand around the angry giant, I stroke myself a few times, pleasure pulsing from my balls to the tip of my cock with each stroke.
Ava looks up at me with hungry eyes, watching me like a hawk.
Then I realize something… Shit!
“I don’t have a condom.” I groan. I have some in the car. I could go and get one, but I don’t think I’m physically capable of leaving her here right now. “I’ve never gone bareback before, so if you’re…” I let my voice trail off. I don’t want to ruin this moment between us, but there isn’t any way I’m going to put myself in a situation where I have to worry about knocking her up. I wouldn’t ever consider fucking without a condom but in my heart, I know Ava’s worthy of this moment.
“I’m on birth control,” she squeaks.
Thank fucking, fuck!
