“What will you do if I do?”
Avery had no answer. Truthfully? She was sick of the hold Professor Leach had on her, but she’d do anything to help her father’s campaign.
“Please wait until after the election.” She tilted her beer back and finished it, hoping to wash away the dread deep in her soul.
Chapter Eighteen
Gino’s chicken piccata didn’t fail to impress Avery. Jason enjoyed watching her moan and squirm with delight with every savory bite. How would those luscious lips feel when pressed against his body? He could indulge a small fantasy, couldn’t he?
He didn’t need to keep interrogating her. Not when he’d already won the modeling job with the nutcase professor. It would be child’s play to ask around the fashion institute and find out who advised Avery. She deserved to relax, and so did he, especially since Gino’s food was living up to its reputation.
“Try a bite of my meatball,” he offered, spearing a jumbo “mooseball” and holding it in front of her mouth.
“You like to feed me, don’t you?” She took the wedge of meat and hummed at the taste.
“I enjoy putting things into your mouth.” This time, he let his eyebrows wiggle.
She blew him a saucy kiss. “You’re not even hiding what you want.”
“Neither are you.” He lowered his voice and drank her in with his bedroom eyes.
She sucked in a breath and shivered, wiggling in her chair. Her face was flushed a delightful pink, and she felt relaxed and approachable. Maybe she’d let him get underneath that hard shell of hers and start unwinding the grief that kept her tied up to the past.
Her luminous gaze took him in, and she fell silent, possibly considering her next move. Tempted. Definitely.
“I admire and respect you,” he prompted, reassuring her of his intentions. Hey, he was an honorable man, and there was nothing wrong with being straightforward.
A hint of a smile perked up a corner of her mouth. “You so obviously want me to admit something about you.”
“I already know you want me. You don’t have to admit anything.”
“You’re so arrogant.” She balled up a napkin and threw it across the table. It hit him in the nose, and she burst into laughter. “Nailed you.”
He saw it coming and could have ducked. But having Avery joking around, flirting and lively, and for the moment, not saddled with mourning, was worth a direct hit by a wadded napkin.
“Ow.” He mock-rubbed his nose. “That hurt.”
Her Madonna-like eyes widened briefly, and he wished he could capture that look of care and bottle it. But they narrowed when he grinned too triumphantly.
“Your pride’s hurt, because I’ve got quick hands and you didn’t see it coming,” she said in a sing-song voice.
“I could cuff you for assaulting a peace officer,” he reminded her.
“You seem to love saying that.” She raised her hands, crossed at the wrist. “I dare you.”
“Then, let’s go.” He signaled for the check, not waiting for the dessert menu. He would be her calorie-free dessert.
“Leaving so soon?” Gino winked and gave them hearty hugs. “Have I made an impression? Will you two be back?”
“I don’t know about him,” Avery said. “But you’ve won me over. It was fabulous.”
“I’m humbled, beautiful lady.” Gino kissed Avery on both cheeks, rubbing his bearded lips over her satiny skin. “Your dinner is on me if you bring my naughty nephew back.”
“Grazie,” she replied, returning the kiss. “Your chicken was so tender, and the bread was to die for.”
She annoyed Jason by kissing Gino on the other cheek. She seemed oblivious to the effect she had on older men, probably deeming them harmless. His uncle was a widower and a real lady’s man, and he wasn’t above enjoying the attentions of a sweetheart like Avery.
“You should stay for my tiramisu. That is heaven here on earth.” Gino’s bass voice was operatic in singing his own praises.
“She’s on a low carb diet,” Jason cut in. “She has a fashion show to prepare for.”
“Oh, but I’m no longer modeling,” Avery said. “I could share a bite with Jason over a cup of cappuccino.”
“Stay, stay.” Gino grabbed both of their elbows and steered them to the bar.
The next twenty minutes were excruciating torture for Jason. Uncle Gino poured a stylized heart over Avery’s cappuccino, and he hung around to watch her hum over the soft and delectable coffee-flavored dessert, heavy with cream over delicate lady’s finger cake.
By the time he was able to pry Avery from Gino’s bragging about his days slogging through the Vietnam rice fields during the war, Jason was fit to be tied.
He wanted those beautiful Madonna eyes on him and the praises that fluttered from her lips about him. He shouldn’t resent his uncle, but he couldn’t help it. Gino was obviously making the moves on Avery, offering free drinks, inviting her for special banquets, and offering her flowers from his centerpiece.
Jason carried the takeout containers and centerpiece while watching Avery hug Gino and promising to return soon.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Gino called out, waving heartily.
“Thanks! We won’t,” Jason said, flashing a grin, because truly, how could he possibly be jealous of the man who took care of his younger siblings after their parents died?
He was being ridiculous.
Avery didn’t belong to him. She wasn’t his girlfriend, and he couldn’t get too close to her, no matter how tempting.
He was out to catch a criminal, and a defense lawyer would have a field day if he was sexually involved with the victim.
Tempered by that thought, he opened the door to his car and handed Avery the takeout boxes after she belted herself in.
“What’s wrong?” Avery asked after he started the car. “You clammed up in there. Didn’t you like the tiramisu? You let me eat most of it.”
“I ate too much spaghetti. Want to go back to the city?”
She turned on her phone and frowned. “Looks like Chase has been texting me. He’ll be sure to check there first.”
“I’m sorry. I get why you don’t want to be confined, but why not go back to the mansion?”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Her tone was teasing on the surface.
“Never. I want to keep you safe, and I do have to do a little checking.” He turned north on the highway, away from the city.
“You mean work? I’m sorry. I can see I’m distracting you. You can drop me off at that motel.” She pointed out the window.
“I can do better than that.” He managed to squeeze a grin onto his lips. “How about a hunting cabin with lots of guns?”
“You have internet up there?’
“Of course. Plumbing and generator, but no hot water.”
“No hot water?” She hugged herself and shivered, but the smile was bright on her face. “Guess you’ll be taking a lot of cold showers.”
“Not alone, I won’t.”
Avery was being bad, and she didn’t care.
She’d been living like a clam, suppressing herself, paranoid and defeated for so long, she’d forgotten why she was still alive.
She was flexing her muscles and thrumming with the power emanating from Jason’s muscle car. She wished it was a convertible, and she could let her hair fly, but the rumbling of the sturdy tires and being shoulder to shoulder with Jason was more invigorating than the cappuccino she’d quaffed.
She was tired of being scared, and this evening, when that sedan stalked her in the orchard, she realized she’d been a mouse hiding in a hole.
She’d denied her senses, her tastes, her appetites, her passions. It was a wonder she was even able to design clothes, although the flashes of color and the bold strokes were the only signs of a prisoner still alive inside her self-imposed jail cell of fear.
Dusk had turned to darkness when they drove up a potholed road deep underneath the canopy of dense trees.
> “It’s so remote.” She was amazed at how rustic it’d gotten only a few miles up the Hudson River.
“We weren’t followed.” Jason pulled the car behind a stand of thick bushes. “There are two bunks in one of the rooms, so don’t feel obliged.”
Oh, she wasn’t obliged, not at all. He’d saved her life twice, but that had nothing to do with her wanting to spend time with him. There was something about him that she wanted to probe—a source of deep pain he’d kept cooped up inside of him.
She could sense it when he gazed at his mother’s beautiful paintings and the way his uncle had treated him with kid gloves.
He handed her a flashlight and let her go inside. “I have to turn on the water and get the generator going.”
“It’s okay. I like the dark.” She hated leaving his side, but the cabin was hidden, and she hadn’t seen any headlights or taillights once they’d turned off the highway.
He was back as soon as the lights came on. “There’s a thunderstorm brewing out there.”
“In here, too.” She sidled up to him and kissed him on his lightly bearded cheek.
His gaze on her was intense, focused, and hungry, and he paused a moment, lightly running the back of his fingers down the side of her face.
He wanted her, but he’d wait for a signal, and she appreciated it. He wasn’t the type of guy to put on the brakes for long. Heat radiated from his muscular body, and the piney, woodsy scent in the cabin along with the sexual tension crackling through the air was the harbinger of a furious storm.
“I want you, Jason,” she said, knowing he needed the verbal consent.
Their lips crashed together as thunderclaps rumbled outside and fat drops of rain splattered over the tin roof. Avery wasn’t ready for the power in Jason’s assault. The rough taste of his lips and the way his mouth devoured hers shot sparks over her entire body.
She clutched on to him, jockeying her mouth and tongue with his, wondering why no one had ever kissed her this hard. He was rough, wild, pushing her back until she was pressed against the wall. She’d always been treated like she was made of spun glass or delicate lace, and her response usually simmered slowly.
But this was like an explosion of dynamite. She grasped and grappled with him, digging her fingertips against his hard muscles. Heat flared and desire pooled between her legs. Her breasts tingled, perking up and crying to be fondled, and she surprised herself by sucking and licking his mouth and moaning like a porn star.
What was going on?
No time to analyze, because her hands went wild, crawling underneath Jason’s shirt and raking over his hot skin. She could visualize herself undoing his belt, but not yet; she’d never been that aggressive. She’d been a good girl, waiting her turn, but there was nothing good about her right now.
She wanted to savor this thing, take her time, but she was surrounded by a wild man. Impatient and so hot she thought she’d burn alive, she ripped his shirt open, popping the buttons. He groaned with undisguised pleasure when she ground her belly against his massive erection, and then, before she could catch her next breath, she was in the air and plopped over Jason’s shoulder.
He lumbered, caveman style, into a small room, and they both landed on a dusty mattress covered with a red-and-black checked hunter’s blanket.
Her tank top flew one way, and she kicked off her shoes. His mouth cupped over her bra, biting and nipping as she struggled with the clasp in back. He lifted her hips enough to yank her jeans down to her knees.
She surprised herself by whipping off his belt, and then, to prolong the suspense, she palmed the bulge of his crotch, marveling at how uninhibited she’d become. From the feel of it, she was about to unleash a monster.
Usually, men slowed her down right about now, but not Jason. Her strokes made him growl with ferocity, and he demolished the rest of her clothing in short order. His mouth lit her like a fuse, sucking and nibbling. She’d never been fondled with such need, and everywhere he touched, sensations sparked and arched, increasing her desire.
She was practically panting when he kissed and licked his way down from her neck. His hot lips encircled a taut nipple, drawing it to a peak, and he palmed the other breast, massaging and filling her with a melty, engorging fullness.
He plumped and sucked, nipping and giving each breast her due, and she was practically arching off the mattress, moaning with pleasure. How was this possible? This rawness, the roughness, the edge of pain that heightened her arousal?
She didn’t know how much more of this she could take, and her insides clenched and throbbed, needing to be filled. His giant shaft was still entrapped in his pants, and now was no time to be polite.
Her hands acted on their own accord. She whipped off his belt, surprising him as he reared up on his knees. And they both fought, hands and fingers busy to unzip and discard his pants.
Out popped the nightstick of her dreams. Hot, wet, with a thick, rosy tip she wanted to suck. She licked her lips and sat up, reaching for it, and he shocked her by shoving it into her mouth.
She laved her tongue over his enormous tip and gagged when it hit the back of her throat. She’d never been manhandled like this and instead of scaring her, it was thrilling and hot.
She’d given blow jobs before, yes, she had, but she’d always been the one giving it and in control. Brando waited for her to set the pace and was extra gentle with her. No, she wouldn’t compare. This was so freaking hot, the way Jason grabbed her head and jerked his hips, taking his pleasure, not holding back, unapologetically not a gentleman.
And she loved it. She clawed at his hips, pinched his butt cheeks and wondered if she dared to tickle his anus. What if she fingered him? Would he let her? She kept her nails short because she needed to stitch by hand. Instead, she cupped his balls, and he spread his legs.
His cock bulged larger than she thought possible, and his balls drew up tight. He had to be on the verge. She wished she could lick her finger to lubricate it, but what the heck. She stroked the junction behind his balls and without warning, jammed her middle finger into his puckered hole.
He exploded, jerking and quivering, and she swallowed through his orgasm, licking him clean.
“Ave, oh, Ave, damn you’re good.” He could barely catch his breath. “How am I ever going to let you go?”
She let his cock go and gave one last stroke of his prostate gland. “Why would you want to?”
“I won’t ever.” His mouth crashed down on hers, and he covered her with his body. She fought back with all she had, wriggling and biting, kissing and scratching him. His cock had come to life again, amazingly even larger than before, and she wanted him inside, wanted him to invade, wanted to be filled to the hilt with Jason Burnett.
She spread her legs, eager, and arched up against him, but he pushed himself away, leaving her high and dry on the mattress.
A wave of rejection crashed over her head and smothered her into the blanket. She covered her eyes with her arm, blinking back the sudden surge of tears. Why didn’t he want her? Why was he backing away?
“You okay?” Jason’s voice tore at her, and she rolled into a fetal position. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Was I too rough?”
“No, no. Why’d you stop? Do you think I’m bad? Did I go too far?”
“No, I was looking for this.” He dropped a condom packet into her hand. “You know you’re so insecure you’re cute?”
Her cheeks burned, but when had she become so unsure of herself? She’d always been attractive. That had been the bane of her existence. Pretty girls didn’t fare well when their fathers knew powerful old men. Pretty girls didn’t stay girls for long—not among the rich and endowed. And pretty girls didn’t tell tales.
Chapter Nineteen
Jason was in deep trouble.
He’d let passion cloud his control and shot far ahead of where he wanted to be with Avery. He’d freaking enjoyed her acting out, and he should have been grown up enough to realize she wasn’t ready.
>
“I’m okay. I swear I am.” Avery ripped open the condom packet and reached for his cock.
“No, we don’t have to. I mean, I should have held back.”
“Don’t you want me?” Her voice wobbled. “I want this. I want to reward you.”
Bingo.
This was wrong.
So wrong.
He didn’t want a reward, and he hated that she felt obligated.
He grasped her hand and twisted the unused condom from her fingertips. “Ave, we need to talk.”
She pouted, her lower lip so lush and cute. “I don’t want to talk. You’re treating me like I’m breakable.”
He tossed the condom across the room and stepped into his pants. “Put on some clothes.”
“Wow, just wow.” She pulled the blanket over her naked body. “You got your rocks off and you want to deny me.”
Jason had experience with trauma victims, and Avery was acting out in a typical manner. He pulled his belt tight and wanted to slap himself. He was supposed to protect her—not only physically, but also emotionally and psychologically.
He was the professional here, and he’d done nothing professional after the thrill of her escapade from her parents’ fortress led to the invigorating date at Gino’s.
“You have no idea how much you deserve a tongue lashing.” He yanked the buffalo plaid blanket from her and pulled her by the arm. “But not until we talk.”
It was excruciatingly hard not to stare or touch while pulling her tank top over her breasts. She didn’t help. But after trying to jerk free from him and rolling and kicking while he threaded each leg into her jeans, she settled down and allowed him to sit her in his lap while he zipped her up—without panties, of course.
A man, even one experienced with wrestling mental patients into their clothes, couldn’t be expected to keep to his objective while handling a lovely woman’s bra and panties without letting instinct take over—especially when his heart yearned to give Avery every pleasure her heart desired and more—like love and warmth and security.
Triggered by Love Page 14
