Sexy As Sin

by Julie Kriss

  “It wasn’t the blow job,” I said out loud, my voice a low growl in my silent penthouse. The light was dim as the rain came down harder. I paced to the window and looked out, thinking. If Ava was mad at me, she wouldn’t hide; she would let me know. I’d get a visit, or at least a phone call, in which she gave me hell for whatever stupid thing I’d done. I was sure I hadn’t hurt her feelings, either. Which meant that whatever was happening, her silence wasn’t about me.

  If something was bothering Ava, and it wasn’t me, that meant it was something bad. Something that mattered. The only thing that could make Ava go silent, dim her bright light, was her mother. And then I remembered her question at the pool yesterday, right before she’d rocked my world: Do you think I should visit my mother while I’m here?

  “No,” I said out loud. “Oh, no, Ava. What did you do?”

  But I already knew the answer. I grabbed my keys and walked out the door.

  I knew where the memory-care home was. I’d helped Aidan shop for it when it became clear that his mother couldn’t live on her own anymore. We’d looked at all the options, seeking the best one. It was so fucking easy when money wasn’t an object.

  The home was in the suburbs, away from the city and set in a green landscape with man-made ponds. It was gated, just in case any of the patients got out. The home itself was large and stately, styled like a grand mansion instead of a concrete prison. I knew that the staff inside was kind, considerate, professional, and vigilant. They treated the patients with care, but the halls and rooms were also equipped with cameras and multiple locked doors. Memory care patients could wander at any time of day or night.

  I buzzed for permission at the front gate and when it opened I drove the Lexus through. I moved slowly up the winding drive toward the large front steps of the building, my wipers slashing through the rain on my windshield. I was about to park and go inside, ask anyone I could find about Ava, when I noticed a single figure sitting on a concrete bench in the rain, her blonde hair soaking around the edges of her hood.

  I swore, threw the car into park, and got out, jogging toward her. It was Ava, sitting alone, staring at nothing. She was wearing a full-length skirt and a raincoat, sandals made of thin straps on her feet. In her hand was her phone, sitting cradled and dark in her palm, the rain falling onto the face of it.

  I knelt in front of her, looking up into her face. Her skin was pale, her eyes red. If she’d worn any makeup, it was long gone. She blinked at me, slowly recognizing me as she came out of her trance of misery.

  “Dane,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “What are you doing here, baby?” I asked, making my voice gentle. “You’re sitting here all alone.”

  “I was going to call a cab.” Ava looked down at the dark phone in her hand. “I took a cab here, and I need to get back to the hotel, and I was going to call one. Any minute.”

  She seemed so lost in that moment, soaking in the rain. How long had she been sitting here? Half an hour? More? She was more lost than any of the patients inside. I put my hand over hers. “You don’t have to call a cab,” I said. “I’m here. I’ll drive you.”

  Ava paused, then nodded, but she didn’t move. She looked at me and her breath hitched. “Dane, it was so awful,” she said, her voice starting to shake. “I thought it would be… but it wasn’t. It was so awful. I couldn’t…”

  Her breath hitched again, like she was fighting back sobs, and my chest wanted to crack open. She’d come here all alone? Faced this all alone? Of course she had. She’d faced everything in life all alone. It was the only thing she knew.

  God only knew what had happened in there. I knew a lot about what was wrong with their mother from what Aidan had told me. Memory loss, health problems, a change in personality—it must be hard for Ava to see. Even though she’d been a mother who had been distant and not very loving, she didn’t deserve to get sick this way. And Ava didn’t deserve this either.

  “It’s over now,” I said, putting my hand over Ava’s. “I’ll drive you back to the hotel.”

  Ava ignored my tug on her hand. “She didn’t know me,” she said, rain running down her cheeks. “I kept talking to her like an idiot, hoping she would remember. She would tune out, and then she’d ask me who I was again. Then she got angry. She said I couldn’t be her daughter, because she didn’t have a daughter. She said…” Ava wiped the water from her cheeks, but the rain just wet them again. “She said that she never had a second child. She had an abortion instead.”

  Jesus Christ. “Ava,” I said.

  Ava shrugged again, that gesture that contained so much angry hurt. “In her mind, she’s leading a different life now. One where she got what she wanted. One where I never existed at all.”

  This time, she let me tug her hand. I stood up and gently pulled her to standing, then led her to the car. I put her in the passenger side and got in the driver’s side.

  “I’m dripping on your nice leather,” she said as I pulled away from the hospital.

  “I don’t care,” I said.

  She was quiet for the rest of the ride. I drove to the Langham and let a valet take the car as I walked her inside. She didn’t protest, only followed me in silence. I could feel the grief coming off of her, the confusion and exhaustion. She didn’t want to talk, to listen to me try to console her or lie to her about how everything was going to be okay. She didn’t want any words at all right now. I knew what that felt like, so I stayed silent.

  In her hotel room, I took her raincoat from her and went to the bathroom for a towel. I came back and dabbed her face, her hair, her hands. I dried off her wet cell phone and put it aside. “Your skirt is soaked,” I said.

  In response she slid her arms around my waist and leaned against me, tucking her face against my neck.

  In an instant, my body was on fire. Ava smelled like rain and tears and vanilla, and her arms were warm around me, her breath soft against my skin. I could feel the pressure of her breasts against my chest, and all I wanted was her. I wanted to strip everything off of her and feel every inch of her skin, make her breathe and moan and forget every bad thing that had happened to her. Make her forget everything except me and how I felt inside her. She’d just been through hell, and that was the only thing I fucking wanted.

  She shivered a little, and I felt it. She was still chilled from the rain. I put my arms around her and rubbed my hand up her back, between her shoulder blades and up the back of her neck. I was trying to be comforting, but there was no way she didn’t feel how hard I was in my jeans. Ava shivered again and I pulled her tighter. She shifted against me, and she pressed her hips against mine. She could definitely feel me, and she wasn’t shying away—instead, she was moving closer.

  She pressed in to me again, tilting her chin so she was looking up at me. I stilled with my arms around her, making a last effort to be a gentleman. Ava sighed against my skin, and then with deliberate intent, her hands lifted the hem of my hoodie and T-shirt and her palms slid along my bare back.

  I knew Ava. She was hurt and she was damaged, she was looking for comfort, but that wasn’t all this was. She’d never been weak or needy, at least with me. This had been building up for days, and it wasn’t going to be stopped now. She didn’t want it to, and neither did I.

  I tilted her chin and kissed her, taking her mouth deep and hard. Ava kissed me back, taking everything I gave her and asking for more as her hands curled against my skin. Her nails scraped me lightly and the blood pulsed thick in my veins at the sensation, the feel of how badly she wanted me. My teeth scraped her lip, she pushed up the hem of my shirt, and then we were on fire.

  I was done waiting. I was done playing.

  It was time to get what I wanted, no matter what the cost would be.

  Seventeen

  Ava

  * * *

  I wanted him, and it was the only thing I cared about anymore. The only thing that mattered was Dane Scotland putting his hands on me. His scent, the feel of him, the scrape o
f his beard on my skin and his big body against mine. The only thing that mattered was that I get naked and get this man inside of me as soon as possible.

  He didn’t argue that I was upset, that I wasn’t thinking right. I was thinking right, maybe for the first time in eleven years. The pain I’d just been through, as harrowing as it was, had stripped away a lot of my lies and self-deceptions. It had robbed me of my defenses and rubbed me raw. It hurt—I’d have scars—but alongside the pain came a strange kind of truth. I didn’t just want comfort or a few minutes without the pain. I wanted Dane—only him, all of him. And I was going to have him.

  His hands were on my waist, my hips, then my breasts. He paused only for a second as I pulled his shirt and hoodie off over his head, dropping them to the floor, and then he unzipped my dress and let it fall. He took my wrist and led me to the bedroom.

  We were naked in seconds, and it was easy. So perfect. Why had I ever thought this was hard? Why had I ever stressed about what my body looked like or wondered whether a man would like it? I couldn’t remember what that felt like right now, with Dane pressing me back against the bed, his big hands moving my thighs apart as he dipped his head between my legs. I couldn’t remember what it was like not to feel sexy, like a goddess. I couldn’t remember what it felt like not to be confident. Dane’s thumbs pressed into my inner thighs and his mouth came down on me, and my fists gripped the sheets as my back arched and I pressed down on him. Pressed against his mouth, wanting more, harder, right now. This man knew every inch of me, and he was proving it right now as his tongue slid over my wet folds and his beard rubbed my skin and his thumbs pressed me. I closed my eyes as the sensation washed over me, and I let go.

  It was everything I wanted, everything I needed. Dane knew how fast to go, how deep to go, how to use his amazing fingers. How to make me build until I was gripping his hair and gasping his name. And then, when I was completely lost, he knew how to make me come so hard my whole body shuddered and my back lifted off the bed.

  I dropped limp, panting, but we weren’t done. Dane kissed my lower belly, my hipbone, then moved up my body, his tongue tracing a line on the underside of my breast. His mouth fixed on my nipple and I groaned, the sensation almost too much. He moved to my other nipple and then I was wet again, a pulse low in my belly. I was aching for him. I’d been aching for him since he answered the door that first time, but only now was I willing to admit it.

  He kissed my neck and then my mouth, and I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him down against me. Dane was bigger now, his body heavier with muscle, his weight pressing me into the bed in the most delicious way. But he was careful with me, keeping his weight on his arms, lowering gently until his hard stomach was against mine, the hairs on his chest rubbing my oversensitized breasts. He broke the kiss and moved his hips against me, his cock rubbing through my wet folds, long and slow. I wrapped my arms around his lean waist, gripping his ass, and our gazes locked.

  We had an entire conversation in that second. Dane wasn’t wearing a condom. I didn’t even know if he had any, and neither of us moved to go find one. We hadn’t used condoms eleven years ago once I’d gone on the pill, though I’d used condoms with every guy afterward. The experience with the pregnancy had left me too burned.

  Now we spoke without words as he moved his hips again, rubbing the head of his cock against me. In his expression I could see that he wanted me, he trusted me, but he was making sure. I could see his certainty. He knew what I was asking, and I didn’t have to speak.

  “Is this what you want?” he asked me softly.

  I leaned up and kissed him, sliding my tongue along his lip, feeling the tremble in his entire body as I did it. “You know what I want,” I said.

  Dane moaned, moved his hips again, and pushed into me.

  I had never felt anything so good. I gripped him hard and Dane moved, his muscles bunching under my hands, his biceps flexing, his head dipping. I moved with him, taking him deeper as I got accustomed to his new body, as I ran my hands over the muscles that had never been there before. We’d tried to slow down eleven years ago, but the fact was, we’d usually gone fast and hard, unable to get enough of each other once we started. I felt that same frantic instinct again, in him and in me, but now both of us fought it. Dane paced himself and I dug my nails in, holding on, feeling it build.

  And it built. High and fast. Sweat beaded on Dane’s neck and I gasped against his skin, holding on. My body went haywire, every nerve raw, every inch of my skin alive with pleasure. I angled my hips and he rubbed me the right way, just like that, and he took no mercy on me.

  I came first, falling apart around him, squeezing him. Then it was his turn, and I felt all of the familiar signals—the way his breath came short, the way his muscles locked and his hips slowed. I knew exactly what Dane did when he came, and nothing had changed. I felt him deep inside me, and then we both slowly relaxed, Dane moving his weight off me to rest on one side.

  He put his arm around me, heavy and warm, and I closed my eyes and took a breath. Everything washed through me: pain, humiliation, want, unbearable happiness. And last of all, hope. It inflated my chest and made my blood sing. I didn’t want to feel it, and yet I still did.

  “Dane,” I said.

  His voice was a low rumble beside me, deep and satisfied. “I know.”

  “I know you know, but I have to say it.”

  “I know.”

  “We understand each other, but I have to say it. I have to put it out there. I can’t just let it go unsaid.”

  Dane was quiet, waiting.

  I opened my eyes and took a breath. “I’m not on the pill,” I said.

  He moved, rising onto one elbow and looking down into my face. He didn’t look afraid at all. Then again, Dane Scotland had never been afraid of anything, including this.

  “I know,” he said, and kissed me.

  Eighteen

  Dane

  * * *

  I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. I walked out of the bathroom and through my penthouse toward the kitchen, where I caught the smell of coffee.

  “Do I dare drink any of this?” I asked.

  “Very funny,” Ava said from the sofa. “My coffee skills have improved, thank you very much.”

  I grabbed a mug, pausing to look at her. She was relaxed on the sofa cushions, wearing an X-Men T-shirt of mine. Her blonde hair was down and tousled and she wore no makeup. She was staring at her phone, and one bare, perfect leg was propped on the sofa back, her ankle turned and elegant, her toes pink. This was how I’d kept her—tousled, freshly orgasmed, and nearly naked—for the past three days.

  Three freaking days. We’d spent the first day in her hotel room, and when I’d needed to come back here to get some clothes and a toothbrush, she’d come with me. Before I could pack a bag we’d ended up on the kitchen counter, Ava’s skirt pushed up and me between her sexy legs.

  We hadn’t bothered leaving after that. I’d had the concierge send up food and some essential supplies, and we hadn’t left the penthouse. Actually, we’d barely left the bed, except to do it in the shower. Twice.

  It wasn’t nearly enough. I’d never get enough of Ava—I had years to make up for. And judging by the way she went soft and hot every time I touched her, she hadn’t had enough of me. But it was the last day of her assignment, and Kaito Okada was scheduled to arrive in town in four hours. According to the schedule I’d received from one of his underlings, our first meeting was to happen at seven o’clock tonight in the lobby bar of the Four Seasons, where Okada had booked the entire top floor. I had suits. I had shirts and ties. I even had shoes and underwear. I had manners and I knew how to eat sushi. I was ready.

  So what would happen next?

  I didn’t fucking know. I tried not to think about it, and three days buried deep in Ava Winters was helping me forget that we weren’t really a thing. That she lived in New York and had her own life. That she’d given no hint she wanted me for an
ything except a few days of sex before she went her own way again.

  Except Ava wasn’t on the pill. If there was a baby, she wasn’t getting rid of me. Hell, even if there wasn’t a baby she wasn’t getting rid of me.

  But first, I had to meet with Okada and do the job my partners expected me to do.

  “Okay, nerd,” Ava said, tapping something on her phone. “Let’s test your knowledge. What is Kaito Okada’s birthplace?’

  “Osaka,” I said, sipping my coffee. She was right—her coffee skills had improved. When she was nineteen, you took your life in your hands if you let Ava anywhere near a coffee maker.

  “His first business?”

  “Sushi restaurants in Tokyo train stations.”

  “And then?”

  This one I knew. “He invented a program for air traffic control systems. It speeds up the delivery of data and provides comparative analysis so air traffic controllers can make better on-the-spot decisions without their network slowing down. It’s fucking brilliant, and it was adopted by nearly every air traffic control system in the world. Okada programmed the entire thing himself, working on a single computer in a rented apartment. They estimate he made four hundred million dollars on it the first year.”

  There was a pause, and Ava stared at me. She bit her bottom lip. “Okay, first of all I didn’t really understand that. Secondly, I think you like him more than you like me. And third, even though it was nerd-speak, that was kind of hot.”

  I put my coffee cup down. “I don’t like him more than I like you. I just admire his programming skills.”

  “And he admires yours.” Ava rolled her eyes. “So it’s going to be a nerd bromance. Great.”