But mostly, I want to remind her—myself—that she might have been his once, but she's not his anymore.
"Take off that dress," I say softly.
Her eyes widen, and she hesitates. I smile, standing and approaching her. "That asshole hurt you—and he deserves to be slowly flayed for that. I'd take you back and protect you from that, if I could. But I can't. All I can do is remind you that he can't hurt you anymore—that I won't let anyone hurt what belongs to me. And you, sweetheart, belong to me."
Fear flickers in her eyes. "For now."
Rage and denial fill me. I shove my hands into her hair and hold her still as I kiss her. Until she's panting and moaning against my lips. "You’re mine, Avery."
Her eyes are a little glazed, hungry and wanting, when she looks at me. I want her looking at me like this forever. I want her in my bed and my life, forever.
I strip her slowly, teasing her nipples, trailing kisses down her body until she arches against me. Lower my head and nibble at her clit until she's writhing, shaking on the cusp of orgasm. And pull away. She moans, thrusting against me, and I rise up above her. My cock slips along her wet pussy, the heat searing into me. It takes everything not to bury myself in her heat.
"Look at me," I demand. Slowly, her dazed gaze meets mine. I reach between us and slip my fingers into her, and she arches. "You’re mine."
She shakes her head, and I frown, pulling my fingers out and kissing her slightly, a barely there kiss. She's whimpering. "Say it. You’re mine."
"Yours. I'm yours," she gasps, and I thrust into her. My groan mingles with hers, and then I lose track of thought, her name a whispered chant as I push us both toward that edge of pleasure. It's bittersweet, even as she's muffling her orgasm against my shoulder. Because she's mine.
But I don't get to keep her.
Avery
If I'm honest, I'm running. Because that wasn't our normal sex—it was him, claiming me, and I'm not ready for that. Even if part of me wants it more than anything.
The house is quiet, but I can hear voices, and I follow them outside.
Amelia is sitting with Kevin on the back porch swing. Or I assume its Kevin. Hopefully there isn't more than one guy wandering around the house looking at my sister like that.
She smiles when she sees me, and he looks away from her, belatedly. I offer my hand. "I'm the maid of honor."
"Avery," he says, his voice warm. "It's so good to finally meet you."
I grin. Amelia is watching us, and then: "Sweetie? Do you think you could get us a drink?"
Kevin glances at her quickly, and something passes between them before he nods. "Sure."
I watch as he vanishes back into the house, and then take his place on the swing next to Amelia. "Good guy you've got there," I say.
She smiles and nods. "He is. I'm more interested in the guy you've got."
I shrug. "Not much to tell."
"He's the first guy you've brought home since the wedding, Avery. There is something to tell."
"There wasn't a wedding," I say, automatically. There wasn't. A wedding is meant to bind two people together. That never happened.
"Damn it, Avery. Don't fucking do that. I just want to be here for you—you haven't talked about a guy in years, and this is the first time in forever that you've brought one home. Talk to me! At least let me know he's getting the job done in bed."
I blush, but smile, a self-satisfied smirk. "He's got that covered."
She laughs and leans her head on my shoulder. "Good. It'd be awkward if I had to send Kevin to give him pointers."
"He's a good guy," I say, and she grows still against me. "But it's not serious, sissy. Don't think it can be."
"Why not?"
"There's too much keeping us from being serious. We knew that going in."
The door slides open, and Kevin comes back onto the porch with two large glasses of tea. Atticus is trailing him, and I can't help the little jump my heart gives when I see him.
I wish that things were different.
Chapter 21
Atticus
The sun hasn't finished rising. It's creeping through the windows, painting Avery's lush skin a brilliant hue, and I can't keep myself from leaning down and pressing a kiss against her shoulder.
She groans. "Go away. It's too early to get up."
"Yeah? Then why the hell did you tell your sister I'd play golf this god-awful early?"
"Because you can't go with me to get my nails done. Besides, it's good for you to play nice with others. You like Kevin."
She pushes up off the pillow, her head craned back for a kiss, and I get a quick, tantalizing flash of bare breast before I kiss her and she snuggles back into the bed. "I'll see you in a few hours."
I leave her on the verge of sleep and clatter down the stairs.
Andre and Kevin are waiting in the hall, with Josh. My jaw tightens, and I almost turn around and go back to bed. But this is important, and she's right—I do like Kevin.
I force a smile. "Y'all ready?"
We're on the fourth hole, its motherfucking hot, and I suck. Which doesn't bother me much—Kevin sucks too, so we're at least sucking together.
Josh and Andre, though, play like they've been playing doubles for years, and it pisses me off. Mostly because, who the fuck is golf buddies with the guy who broke his daughter's heart?
"You don't golf much, do you?" Josh says, when I hit the ball into the sand trap. It's the third time in four holes.
I give him an unfriendly look. "Not really my game. I prefer football."
"Did you play?"
"In college, a little."
Josh lines up his shot and drives the little white ball. The little shit lands neatly on the green.
"I guess that's where you got your ink," he says.
I can feel Andre eyeing me, but screw that. I won't feel guilty for my tattoos, and I don't owe this shithead an explanation.
"Actually," I say, "I got the tattoos for my father."
"What does he do?" Andre asks.
"Nothing. He died, four years ago," I say shortly.
Kevin, standing behind me, squeezes my shoulder, and I see sympathy flicker in Andre's eyes.
"And you? What do you do?"
He already knows. I haven't made a secret about what I am—neither has Avery. "I'm in research."
"Not a lot of money in that," Josh says.
I don't point out that I have a sizable trust fund. I know where this is going. Me pointing out that I have plenty of money to offer isn’t going to change Josh’s or Andre's mind.
"Avery hasn't complained."
"I worry about my daughter," Andre says.
I look at Andre, and finally, finally, let it out. "I worry about your daughter, too. I worry about a girl whose father would allow a man to break his daughter's heart, and not care. I worry about a girl so uncomfortable at home, she won't go back. I worry that you let him think he has any right to say anything about her life."
Kevin makes a low noise of surprise, but I'm too pissed to care.
"You think I'm a bad father?" Andre says, disbelief filling his voice.
"I don't know, sir. I don't care. I do care that you invited this asshole here, knowing how Avery felt about him. The only thing I care about is that girl and her well-being. Excuse me if my salary, or lack thereof, pales in comparison to his emotional abuse."
"You are really close to pissing me off," Josh snaps.
I smile, slow and dangerous. "Dude, I would love for you to come at me. You know, football wasn't my only sport in college. It's just the only legal one."
Josh pales, and I throw my putter into our cart. "If we're about done with this fun, I'm gonna find something to drink.
I'm in the bar, nursing bourbon on the rocks, when Kevin finds me. He eases onto the barstool next to me and grabs the bartender's attention. "Can I get a Heineken?"
The bartender flashes a white smile and scurries away, coming back with the beer and looking at me to mak
e sure I don't want anything. I wave her away.
"That was a little intense," Kevin says, grabbing a handful of pretzels.
"Sorry, man. This is your wedding week. I don't even know what happened."
He cocks his head to the side. "You got angry because someone hurt the girl you love. That's what happened."
I look away. There’s that word again. I haven't even used it with Avery yet. "I guess Josh took me by surprise."
"Him being here, or him in general?"
I look at him sharply, and he nods, almost to himself. "Amie didn't think Avery would share something like that with a summer fling."
"I'm not a fling," I growl, and Kevin's lips twitch into a smile.
"No, I don't suppose you are."
We sit in silence for a little longer and then: "Look, I'm sorry. I wish I could get rid of him, but at this point, I can't. Not without offending Andre, and the man is going to be my father-in-law."
"You know that's fucked up, though. Right?" I want someone to agree with me. The relationship between Andre and his daughter's ex isn't right. It makes me angry even thinking about it.
"No, its all kinds of jacked. And to be super fair, Amelia has been a part of it. She's supported the whole campaign Josh has going on to win Avery back."
I give him a distinctly unfriendly look, and he laughs, a soft chuckle. "That was the past. It's very clear how Avery feels about both you and Josh. Amelia's loyalty is to her sister, and mine is to Amelia. Josh won't be welcome in our home."
Oddly touched, I swallow hard and nod. Kevin grins. "So, let's get the hell out of here. My best man wanted to go diving anyway."
And that is probably the best idea I've heard all day long.
My face is slightly sunburnt when I stumble, half-drunk, into our room. Avery is sitting on our bed, her legs crossed under her as she types at her laptop. "Where were you?" she asks without looking up. "Daddy and Josh got back an hour ago."
"Kevin thought we should get out of there before I punched Josh in the face."
That jerks her attention up, and her pretty eyes widen a little when she sees me.
"Jesus, Atticus. You know they're going to take pictures, right? You couldn't like, put sunscreen on?"
Such a typical reaction. Not to the fact that I want to assault her ex—that doesn't even get a raised eyebrow.
"I did. It wore off, after a while."
She rolls her eyes and turns back to the laptop. "Do you want to change? I'm freaking starving."
"Can we eat here?" I ask, leaning into her and kissing her neck.
She wiggles a little, before relaxing into me. "No. Amelia wants to eat with me, and we're here for her."
I sigh, and she smirks, leaning up to kiss me quickly. "Be good, and I'll make it worth your while."
I get hard, and I groan against her lips. "Fine. But you better come through."
Avery
It's weird, being with Atticus in front of my family. In front of Josh. But the fact is, he didn't even bat an eye when I told him what happened. He hadn't looked at me with pity—maybe because of Nik and the divorce. Maybe because he really doesn't give a fuck. Either way, I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth.
Atticus leads me down the buffet and sits me next to my sister. "Where is Kevin?" he asks, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. I suppress a flash of jealousy, and my sister waves vaguely.
"He said something about getting me some food. He and Mark probably got distracted by something. They do that."
A grin turns up Atticus' lips, and he squeezes my shoulder. "You want a drink, babe?"
"Sure."
He's only half listening, already scanning the room for my sister's fiancé.
"So the boys bonded," Amelia says, watching as my boyfriend collides with her fiancé and the best man. They're laughing about something as they wait for our drinks. He looks good there, with them.
"Weren't they supposed to go golfing?" I ask, looking away. The dinner looks amazing, and I'm reminded again of how hungry I am.
"Didn't Atticus tell you?" Amelia says, curiously. The question yanks my attention back to her.
"Tell me what?"
"Well, they went to the golf course. And Josh was—well, Josh. You know how he can be."
I roll my eyes. That's a mild understatement—I know only too well what my ex-fiancé can be like.
"Anyway, Josh threw around some insults, Atticus put him—and Daddy—in their place and stormed off."
I blink. He argued with them? With my father? And hadn't mentioned it.
"Kevin followed him. He's never been crazy about the way Dad supported Josh after I told him about the wedding. And he thinks you’re happy. Which makes me happy, so yeah. Anyway, they ended up hooking up with Mark and going scuba diving."
I stare at my baby sister. "How long ago did you find all this out?"
She frowns—a pretty little furrow in her brow—and shrugs. "When we were at the nail salon?"
I almost start to stand, but Amelia puts a hand on my wrist. "Don't. Don't make a scene with Josh here."
I follow her gaze to where Josh and my father are entering the room. I choke down my anger. It's not fair to expect Daddy to drop all of his business connections because of my failed love life.
But a part of me—a large part—wishes he would.
"Do you need me tomorrow?"
She looks at me, and a smile turns her lips. "No, sissy. I think I can do just fine without you."
I smirk. Atticus, across the room with the other men, catches my eye, and I blow him a kiss.
I let him sleep late. It's our vacation, after all, and besides, what I want takes time. While he's sleeping, I sneak downstairs and put together a picnic lunch. Amelia catches me and gives me a sleepy smile. "Take the champagne and strawberries," she says, pouring two cups of coffee.
"Are you sure?"
"Kevin hates strawberries, and I'm not drinking the champagne. Y'all enjoy it."
I kiss her cheek, and she shambles from the room with her caffeine while I finish the picnic. I stow it in the back of Kevin's rented Jeep and hurry upstairs.
I've changed and pulled my hair up into a low ponytail when I wake him.
"What time is it?" he mumbles.
"Almost ten thirty." I trace the tattoo on his pectoral, and he catches my hand, stilling me. "Do something?"
"Anything." There is a sincerity in his tone that startles me, and I peek at him from under my lashes. He's staring at me, not at my low cut cover, but me. A soft expression in his eyes that makes it hard to breath.
"Spend the day with me. Amelia doesn't need me, and we can just get away for a little while, and it'll be just us." I'm babbling, "We don't have to sit on the beach, we could visit Port Royal or go diving or even rent a boat—whatever you want."
He threads his fingers in my hair, his thumbs tracing over my cheekbones as he frames my face and pulls me to him for a kiss, interrupting my flow of words.
I'm dazed and silent when he pulls away, but I make out his words, gentle against my lips. "I would love that, Avery."
We end up on a deserted strip of sand. It's in a cove, the air is stifling, and I can hear the screams of children diving from the cliff into the clear, deep water. Lying next to Atticus on the beach, the sun warming my skin, I can ignore them—I can pretend there is nobody here but us.
"I don't want to go home," I murmur. It's said so softly I think he won't hear me, but he does. Of course, he does.
"Why not?"
I shake my head and look away, my eyes closing behind my sunglasses.
"Avery. Answer me," he says.
"I'm not ready," I snap, annoyed. "I'm not ready for the school year to begin, for all of this to end."
"Why does it have to?"
I roll to my feet, my heart pounding. Sugar white sand stings my calves, sticking to my sweat-slick skin as I stalk down to the water. Splash into it.
Atticus is calling me, but I ignore him, plunging into the water u
ntil it's up to my chest, diving down. Here, there is nothing but the warmth of the ocean, the slight tug and pull. Here, there really is nothing, nothing but the wild nature.
I want to keep him. I haven't admitted it to anyone—certainly not to myself—until this very moment. But I am not ready to be nothing but a name on a roll call. Not ready to hear he refer to me in a cold, distant “Ms. Emili”. I'm not ready for the flood of classes and watching him flirt with his colleagues.
I want to keep waking up next to him, I want his kisses driving me crazy, his stupid sense of humor keeping me sane.
And it scares the hell out of me.
Atticus' arms slide around me, silently grounding me to the ocean floor, to him, holding me steady despite the rhythm of the water.
His lips press a kiss into the salty skin below my ear, and his voice floods my senses. "Why do you keep running?"
"Why do you keep chasing?"
He pulls me tight to him, and I can feel his erection pressing against my bikini. Heat floods me, and I whimper. "Because I want you, Avery. I'm not through with you."
"When you are, you'll leave," I say, and this is what the truth is. I can't stand the idea of him leaving. I'm not sure I can survive it.
His grip on me tightens, pulling me closer, if that is even possible. "I'm not him. I know he hurt you, and I would happily kill him for that—but I'm not Josh. Why can't you see that?"
Because Josh is all I've seen for so long—for too long. I twist in his embrace, and his lips collide with mine. The kiss has none of the grace and skill of the past—it’s raw hunger and desperate and almost begging. I can taste salt on our lips, and I'm not sure if it's because I'm crying or because of the ocean, and I don't want to find out—don't want to look too closely.
"Avery," he moans, and I bite down on his lip. One hand drops from my back, slips under my white bikini bottom and cups my ass. The heat of his hand contrasts sharply with the cool water, and I arch against him, grinding myself on the erection throbbing between my legs.
"Atticus, please. No games," I pant, and if I make any sense, it's a miracle. He laughs, the sound rumbling through me. Through us.
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