“Please what, baby? What do you want?” He picked up the intensity of his fingers inside me. “Tell me.”
“Touch me.” It was a cry, a plea.
“I am touching you. My fingers are inside you. Can’t you feel them?”
I moaned. “Touch my . . . touch me with your thumb. Please. So close.”
“Here?” His thumb skimmed just below where I needed him. “Like this?”
“No. Please. And harder.”
Finally, finally, he moved to the small bundle of nerves, pressing with the perfect intensity that I craved. My heart raced into a crescendo as pleasure gripped me, spreading out from my center to infuse every inch of my body.
“Give me more, baby.” Liam didn’t stop moving. He withdrew his fingers and used them on my clit, not giving me even a second to recover before he brought me up and over the edge yet again.
The elevator began to ding, a repetitive, ear-splitting sound protesting the stop of motion. Liam stroked me once more and then moved his hand, smoothing down my dress.
I was boneless, hanging onto him as he reached to disengage the button. When the elevator began to move again, he bent to scoop me into his arms.
“Nobody’s going to think anything about me carrying you now that we’re upstairs.” He stepped out when the doors glided open. “Our room’s right here. Can you get the key out of my jacket pocket?”
I ran my hands over his chest until I felt the thin plastic card. Pulling it out, I unlocked the door, and Liam gave it a gentle kick so we could pass through. He lay me down on the bed, and I closed my eyes.
“Don’t you dare fall asleep.” Liam kissed my forehead, and I slitted my eyes open, watching him undo his tie and take off his shoes. “I have plans for you. And they involve you being wide awake.”
He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it over a chair. I turned to my side and propped my head up on my hand. I knew I was practically falling out of my dress, lying like this, but I noticed Liam didn’t seem to mind.
He unfastened his pants and let them drop to the floor. The boxers he wore beneath didn’t do much to disguise the bulge between his legs. Suddenly I was wide awake.
“Come here.” I crooked my finger at him, smiling.
Liam sat down next to me, cupping my cheek as he gazed down at me. “Look at how beautiful you are.” He leaned down and touched my lips softly with his. “I love you, Ava Catarine.”
I twined my arms around his neck and pulled him down to me. “I love you, too, Liam Edward. And I’m going to make you feel so good.” I rolled us over and sat up, straddling him. He reached up to run his hands down my arms, and I traced the knots of muscles in his shoulders, across to his chest. Just looking at him, the definition of his pecs and abs made me feel as though I might die if I couldn’t touch him. I remembered the early days, when we were just friends and being around him had been like hell. For so long I’d denied myself permission to admit that I wanted my hands on that body. Now I could run my fingers over him whenever I wanted, and I didn’t take it for granted.
“Let me take down your hair.” He slid his fingers beneath. “Damn, those pins are in there tight.”
“Yeah, they don’t mess around with wedding hair. Hold on.” I lifted my hands to the updo and began the process of hunting for pins, which I dropped into Liam’s hand. “I think that’s it.”
He threaded his fingers through the thick black curls. “I love your hair hanging like this.”
“It feels good to have it down.” I shook it back over my shoulders.
“I bet this dress feels a little uncomfortable, too.” Liam nodded, as though in sympathy. “Why don’t you let me help you get it off?”
“You’re always thinking of me, aren’t you?” I held up my hair so he could get to the zipper. When it was released, the front of the dress sagged, and Liam grinned.
“Why, look at this.” He pushed the material out of the way and palmed both of my breasts. “I’ve been imagining holding these gorgeous tits all night. All week. Reality is so much better than my imagination.”
I moved to the side and let the dress slide the rest of the way off me. Crawling back over to Liam, I dropped my lips to his chest and gave myself the pleasure of kissing every inch of warm skin I wanted.
“Your hair tickles.” Liam’s voice was husky, low.
“Want me to stop?” I paused, my mouth hovering over one flat nipple.
“God, no. Never.”
“Good.” I resumed my meandering, this time sucking the small brown nub into my mouth. Liam clutched my head to his chest, making a soft noise in his throat. I moved to the other side, to suck and lick it, too. He tasted like summer days and musk, and I only wanted to breathe in his scent as long as I could.
I wandered down his stomach, dropping small kisses along each ridge and running my tongue in circles as I sank lower, following the trail of light brown hair. When his erection brushed against the side of my face, I re-positioned myself to sit on his thighs, letting my hair fall in curtain around my face. I took him in both hands, holding the base and then stroking down with the other hand. My thumb circled the head, mimicking his earlier moves on me.
Liam held himself tense, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. I bent slowly, taking his swollen cock into my mouth a little at a time. His hands moved back to my hair, soothing, encouraging as I took him deeper and deeper, reveling in the texture of smooth skin over the hardness.
When he hit the back of my throat, I lifted back up, sucking in my cheeks until my lips circled just the head again. I swirled my tongue around it, kissing down the hot column of soft skin over the throbbing steel. Taking him back fully into my mouth, I stroked up and down with increasing speed.
“Ava—God, Ava. You’re incredible. Ahh . . . wait. C’mere.” He gently nudged my head back up. “I want to be inside you. I want to look into your eyes when I come.”
I slid back up his body, and once my face was level with his, Liam flipped me onto my back and held himself above me. His chest was heaving with short breaths as he stared down at me. There was something new in his eyes, something intense and serious. He smiled at me and then lowered himself slowly to take my mouth.
As much urgency as I’d seen in him a moment before, this kiss was slow, filled with love, promise and so much tenderness that I felt tears well in my eyes. He swept his tongue between my lips and touched mine so lightly, it almost tickled. He pressed in a little bit harder, tracing a line around my lips. Pulling back slightly, he bestowed small caresses on both corners of my mouth, my nose and my chin.
His mouth continued its journey down my throat, pausing to lick at the pulse on the side, and making its way to the center of my chest. He laid his head down between my breasts, and I shivered when I felt his breath against my skin.
“Do you know how much your boobs turn me on? It makes me crazy when I can see them and can’t touch. And when I see other guys checking you out, I just want to punch their fucking eyes shut.”
“But you’re the only one allowed to see them. And touch them. Doesn’t that make you feel better?”
“Hmm.” Liam cupped one and kissed the sensitive skin underneath. “Yeah, definitely.” He took the pink nipple into his mouth and sucked, hard, so that I felt it in a straight shot down between my legs. I arched my back and held his head, running my fingers through his soft brown hair.
“Feels so good.” I gasped as he bit softly and then moved to the other side, repeating everything he’d just done. “Liam . . . so good.”
He smiled and whispered against me. “Wanna bet I can make it even better?” He slid his hand between my legs again. “Mmmm . . . still wet.” Two fingers closed in a pinch around my clit, and I raised my hips, undulating against his hand to find the perfect rhythm. He was relentless, never stopping as pleasure built up once more until I thought I’d die.
As the orgasm gripped my body, Liam pushed up to kneel between my legs and thrust into me. He lifted my hips, adjusting the ang
le so that his cock hit just the right spot inside me. I gripped the sheets beneath me in clenched hands and tilted back my head.
“No—look here, at me. Right in my eyes, baby. I want you to see how much I love you and feel it right down to your soul, in every inch of your body. Look at me. Look into me.”
I fastened my eyes to the steadfast blue of his as I rose to another climax. Love infused all of me, every movement he made, and when at last I cried out his name, my inner channels spasmed around him, and Liam’s body tensed into one hard muscle as he came.
He fell next to me onto the bed. The wine, the long day and a body that was replete with satisfaction caught up with me, and I felt myself sliding toward oblivion.
Liam wrapped his arms around my stomach and pulled me back against his chest. He nuzzled my neck, and I hummed in appreciation.
“Don’t leave me, okay?” I was only half-awake and still a little drunk, but nevertheless, I knew that falling asleep in his arms after a week apart felt so good. I covered his hands with my own and held on tight.
“Never, baby. I promise. Never.”
NO MATTER HOW LONG I’d been with Ava, shared her bed, lived in the same house . . . I never got tired of waking up with her in my arms. I loved watching her sleep, her face relaxed and her hair messed up. Usually I was the one who’d messed it up, so maybe that was part of it, too.
I wasn’t ashamed to admit that her being away the week before had been excruciating. We’d been spoiled over the past few years, in that we hadn’t had been to be apart more than maybe a night or two. And even that was rare. I had a lot of faults, but being stupid wasn’t one of them. Once Ava was really and truly mine, I was smart enough to make sure I held on tight. She was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I wasn’t ever going to let her go.
Which brought me back to the small black velvet box that was shoved deep in my duffle bag.
I’d always pictured myself getting married one day, but it hadn’t been more than a hazy dream until I’d met Ava. And then it became my goal. I knew we had to wait a little while, because when I’d made the decision to go to grad school right after college, it meant turning my back on the career my parents had laid out for me—and saying good-bye to their financial support, too. My job at the university was great, but it didn’t pay enough yet to support us. Ava’s salary helped, but Id wanted more for us before we made it official.
And then when my mom found out that my father was cheating on her—and had been for a long, long time—and filed for divorce, I’d made up my mind to wait until things settled down. I still wanted to marry Ava, but getting engaged and planning a wedding while my parents were at each other’s throats didn’t sound like fun to me. I wanted to spare us all that mess. Not to mention, the local press had picked up the story of my mom and dad’s divorce. It was the kind of tabloid shit they loved, and no way was I dragging Ava into that any more than she had to be.
Unfortunately, my parents were both dragging the whole thing out, and it didn’t show a sign of ending any time soon. And I’d decided I wasn’t waiting anymore.
Ava was mine. It was time to make it official.
I had a plan. It involved a moonlight walk on campus, hitting all the spots that meant something to both us and ending up on the bench just outside the dorm I’d lived in during junior year. That was where I planned to drop to one traditional knee and propose.
I’d already talked to Ava’s dad. It hadn’t been easy to get Mr. DiMartino by himself; the family was always there, together, everyone talking all at once. Since we visited her family once a month or so, I’d gotten used to it, and I even liked it now. But all that togetherness made private conversation tough. I’d managed to do it finally one Sunday when Ava, her mom and her sister-in-law Angela went out together to do some shopping for baby stuff. Ange was pregnant, and they’d just found out she and Carl were having a boy. Apparently that meant they could plan the nursery now, or so all the women said.
I’d stayed behind at the house with Ava’s dad and her brothers, Carl and Vince. There was a Phillies game on TV and a huge platter of antipasto on the coffee table. The family restaurant, Cucina Felice, was closed on Sundays, making it the one day of the week I was likely to find Anthony DiMartino away from his kitchen.
I waited for ten minutes after the women left, just in case they came back for anything. And then I took a deep breath and cleared my throat.
“Mr. DiMartino?”
He glanced my way. “Yeah?”
“Uh, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute.”
His eyes stayed glued on the screen. “Sure. What’s up?”
I swallowed hard. The DiMartinos had taken me into their family without hesitation. I was treated like a son, like a brother, and for that I was grateful. There was more affection and acceptance than I’d ever known from my own blood relations, who were reserved and cool. But still . . . I knew how they all felt about Ava. She was the princess of the family. The only daughter left to them after Antonia had been killed by a drunk driver some years back. They liked me, sure, but I was still nervous as hell.
“Uh, I was wondering . . .” I rubbed my hands over my jeans. Suddenly my palms were sweaty. “Um, could we maybe talk . . . in the other room?”
Now all three men were looking at me. Vince’s brows were drawn together, a certain sign that he was getting annoyed—probably because I was interrupting the game—but Carl grinned at me.
“Oh, so that’s how it is, huh?” He laughed and reached over to slap me on the back. “‘Bout time, man.”
Mr. DiMartino stood up. “Sure. Come on in the kitchen.” He picked up the nearly-empty platter. “I’ll cut some more meats and cheese for us.”
I followed him across the room, while Carl continued to chuckle and Vince asked, “What’s going on? What’re you talking about?”
In the kitchen, Ava’s dad opened the fridge and began pulling out packages of cold cuts. “So, go ahead. Talk.”
I took another breath. I’d practiced this in my head, but doing it for real was harder than I’d thought. Especially with my girlfriend’s father standing across from, holding a large knife as he sliced salami. “Um, okay. I hope you and Mrs. DiMartino know how much Ava means to me. And how much it means that your family has been so great to me.” I licked my lips. “Ava and I’ve been together for over two years now, and I’m going to be done with grad school this summer. Birch has already offered me a full-time job in the history department. It won’t be a lot of money at first, but it’ll be a good start, I think.” I stared at a spot on the counter, just beyond Mr. DiMartino. “I’d like to ask Ava to marry me.”
Mr. DiMartino had moved on to slicing a block of provolone cheese, and to his credit, he didn’t flinch. “Aha. I see. And you’re coming to me why?”
I frowned. “I wanted to ask your permission. To . . . to propose to your daughter.” The words finally sank into my mind, and I spit them out. “I’d like your blessing to ask Ava to marry me.”
Now a broad smile spread across the man’s face, and he set down the knife. That was a good sign, right?
“Liam, my boy, thank you. Not many young men would have the respect nowadays to ask the father for the daughter’s hand. It means something.” He reached out and offered me his own hand, which I took. He closed it over mine in a tight grip and shook it.
“Ava Catarine is special, you know. She has it in her head that Antonia, may God rest her soul—” He crossed himself, and I wished I could do the same. I wasn’t Catholic, and though I went to Mass with Ava regularly, I still felt self-conscious about a few things, like kneeling and crossing myself. The Presbyterian in me froze up at those points.
“Ava thinks Antonia was the smart one. The one with the plan.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “It’s true that before—everything happened, with Frankie, Antonia had drive, and Ava was more relaxed. We used to call Ava our laughing girl, did you know that?”
I shook my head, smiling. “No
, she’s never said that.”
He shrugged. “No, she thought she was less because of not being so serious. We never thought that. Frannie and I love all our children. We miss Antonia. Every day, we miss her. But we’d never ask Ava to take her place. She has her own place. The ideas she got, that she had to step into Antonia’s shoes, those was her own thinking.
“But still, we’re proud of her. She’s smart, and she’s beautiful. But I worried, because our laughing girl had stopped laughing so much. I told my Frannie that. We talked to her about it, but she only worked all the harder.
“And then . . . she brought you home. And that first weekend, when all she said to us was, ‘Oh, Ma, we’re just friends—’” Mr. DiMartino’s voice took on a high pitch as he imitated his daughter. “We knew. There was something in her face when she talked about you. And we saw how you were with her. How your eyes never left her. How you wanted to be touching her all the time—no, don’t worry, I don’t mean in a bad way. I mean, you held the door, you touched her shoulder, her arm. We knew. And what made us happy these last few years, Liam, is that we got our laughing girl back. You gave Ava back her laugh.”
I blinked back embarrassing moisture in my eyes. Last thing I wanted to do in front of my girlfriend’s father was cry like a baby. But Mr. DiMartino didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care. He pulled me into a strong hug, patted my back three times and then yelled out into the living room.
“Boys! Get in here. We need limoncello. We got something to celebrate.”
I smiled now, remembering that day. I’d told them that I was going to wait until after Julia and Jesse’s wedding was over. I didn’t want to take anything away from their big day, and Ava was so busy with work and with all the wedding prep for her friend that we barely had any time together anyway. But now . . .
I wrapped one of her black curls around my finger. Ava sighed in her sleep and snuggled closer to me. Her fingers found my hand, still resting on her middle, and wove her fingers through mine. Her lips relaxed into a slight smile.
I lay there for another few heartbeats. It was still relatively early; we didn’t need to check out until noon, and it was just nine now. I lay my head back down on the pillow and let my eyes drift shut, inhaling deep of the sweet, enticing scent that was uniquely Ava.
I Choose You (Perfect Dish Romances Book 3) Page 6
