Avery huffed, and tossing the iPad on the sofa cushion between them, threw her hands up in frustration. “We are not starving. Parker does not go without anything. And can we please not fight over this right now. You’re going to wake him up.”
“Alright,” Brody conceded “but this conversation is far from over.”
“Like hell it isn’t,” Aver mumbled, and picked up the iPad. She slid her finger across the screen, unlocking it, and touched an icon labelled Photos.
“What’s that?” Brody leaned in closer to get a better look.
“Pictures.”
“Of Parker?”
No, these are pictures of my nephew,” she replied smartly.
“Why on earth would I want to see those?”
“I’m joking, you fool,” Avery teased, and playfully slapped him on the shoulder. “These are Parker’s baby pictures.”
Brody slid closer to Avery on the sofa, watching in wonder as pictures of Parker as a newborn flashed across the screen.
Chapter 4
“I wish you’d told me, Avery,” Brody repeated for what felt like the twentieth time. He tossed the uneaten pizza crust in the box and stretched out across the sofa, clearly making himself at home. “I could’ve done something to help, to make life a little easier for you and Parker. You didn’t have to go through it all alone.”
“I wasn’t alone. I had my family.”
“Yeah, but it’s not the same thing and you know it.”
As much as Avery hated to admit it, Brody was right. Having the help of her family wasn’t the same as having a man around the house or having a father figure for Parker to look up to.
Brody glanced at a framed picture on top of the TV. It was a photo of a man sitting with Parker in his lap. There was no denying it. The thought of some other guy raising his son made his blood boil, but he pushed the thought aside, trying not to jump to any conclusions. Pointing a finger at the photo, he asked, “Who’s that, the boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” Oh my God, no,” Avery laughed. “That’s my brother-in-law, Parker’s uncle.”
Brody didn’t know whether to be relieved that some other guy wasn’t raising his son or be happy about the fact that the guy in the picture wasn’t the infamous boyfriend he’d conjured up in his mind, and a sense of relief washed over him. But the question still remained. Did Avery have a boyfriend? The only way to find out was to ask, bluntly. “So, are you seeing anyone?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Avery replied sheepishly, and for good measure, added, “Just like your divorce is none of my business.”
“Perhaps your personal life is none of my business, but who’s raising my son is my business.”
Avery wanted to dispute the fact that her personal life was none of his concern, but thought better of it. It was late and she was tired. So rather than make an issue out of it, she answered him honestly. “No, I’m not seeing anyone,” she replied, and taking a deep breath, she swallowed back her apprehension, because her next statement was one that she didn’t care to admit, not even to herself. “As a matter of fact, there hasn’t been anyone since you.”
“You mean you haven’t even…”
“No, not even that,” she confessed, and bashfully looked away.
Brody sat there in silence, carefully calculating his next move. He could either leave now before things between them got even more complicated than they already were, or he could do what he’d been longing to do for almost five years. Wordlessly, he stood up and took Avery by the hand, pulling her gently towards him and coaxing her from her spot on the sofa.
For one brief moment Avery hesitated. But who was she kidding? Ever since running into Brody at the Starbucks he’d consumed her every thought and brought memories to the surface that had lain dormant for so long. And so without further hesitation, Avery followed Brody down the hall and towards the bedroom.
Avery paused at the threshold to her room, unsure if she was doing the right thing. Sure, it had been a really long time since she’d had sex and she was horny as hell, but this was Brody, the father of her child, a man that she hadn’t seen in almost five years Sex would only complicate things, wouldn’t it? But this is Brody, she reminded herself. What are you waiting for, a written invitation? Without further hesitation, Avery followed him into the bedroom.
Everything was exactly as he’d remembered it. A large wooden dresser sat against the wall, a threadbare Persian carpet covered the timeworn hardwood floor beside the bed, and a full length mirror hung on the wall by the closet. The only noticeable differences were the pictures. Framed pictures of Avery and Parker now took the place of concert posters that had once been taped haphazardly to the walls. Releasing Avery’s hand from his grasp, Brody wandered over to the large framed picture that hung above the dresser. It too portrayed the same happy family as the photos in the living room. But soon, very soon, he would see to it that it was replaced by an equally happy picture of the three of them.
“Do you like it?” Avery asked as she approached him from behind.
“I do,” Brody nodded “but it doesn’t do you much justice. You’re much more stunning in person.”
Avery felt goose bumps rise on her forearms, and she shivered, not out of uncertainty, but because she wanted this as much as he did.
Brody turned to face Avery and was momentarily taken aback. Her subtle lips, the contours of her cheeks, and the warmth in her eyes looked even more spectacular in the faded light of the bedroom. Her lips—those sensuous, kissable lips—drew him to her like a magnet. He raised his arms and caught her face in his hands. Their bodies crushed together like two long lost lovers destined to find happiness in each other’s embrace.
His greedy tongue traced the faint outline of her mouth, and Avery’s lips eagerly parted, granting him the entry that he so desperately desired. Their tongues mated wildly against each other and their skin reddened from the forcefulness of the kiss. With every caress she could feel Brody’s arousal growing, matching her own, and they stumbled blindly towards the bed.
The mattress squeaked and sank beneath their weight as they fell on top of it, a sweaty mass of over clothed limbs. Brody made quick work of his t-shirt, hastily peeling it off and tossing it to the floor before hoisting Avery further up the bed and positioning himself between her legs.
“This will never do. You’re wearing way too many clothes,” Brody groaned, and his mouth, still enflamed by their kiss, formed a sly smile. His hands swiftly moved to the top button of her blouse, undoing one and then another and then another. He slipped it from her shoulders and it fell to the bed. She lay beneath him, her breathing erratic, clad in only a pair of jeans and a bra. But she was still wearing too much. The tips of his fingers brushed the side of her breast as they trailed across the firm planes of her abdomen, stopping when they reached the waist of her jeans. Hmm… she’s been working out. Brody smiled and leaned over, placing a kiss to her navel and dipping his tongue into the small, round crevasse.
Avery wriggled beneath him, every one of her senses heightened by her state of arousal. But when Brody fumbled with the button on her jeans, she stilled. She grabbed his hands and gripped them tightly, preventing him from lowering her zipper any further.
“What’s wrong?” he breathed, wondering if he’d done something to upset her.
“Would you mind turning off the light?”
Brody looked up at Avery and cocked his head to the side, confused by her unusual request. Since when was she insecure about her body? If anything, Avery was in better shape now than before. “Why?”
“I told you,” she sighed. Avery averted her gaze and stared blankly at a spot of peeling paint on the wall. “I have scars, nasty scars.”
Of course, the c-section. Brody squeezed her leg reassuringly. “Do you honestly believe something like that would bother me? You got that scar from giving birth to a beautiful baby boy. You should wear it proudly. You’re a tiger that’s earned her stripes.”
Reaffirming that what he said was true, Brody ignored Avery’s protests and continued to undo her jeans, shimmying them down and off her legs along with her panties until the only thing covering her body was him and a pink satin bra. His lips found the thin line of raised skin that ran from one side of her body to the other. The scar was a bit longer than he’d expected, but it would act as a constant reminder of all that Avery had to go through alone to give birth to his son, a constant reminder to the gift she’d given him, the one unspoken desire that his heart had longed for, a child of his own. Brody smiled and murmured against the soft curve of her hip as he placed a row of heated kisses along the length of her scar. “You’ve never been more beautiful than you are at this very second.”
At the sound of Brody’s words, Avery came undone. Any apprehension she’d felt vanished and was replaced with need, a need so powerful that it caused her body to tremble in response. She spread her legs further apart, inviting Brody to do as he pleased, and moaned unashamedly when he slid a finger deep into her core.
“Mmm… yes.” Avery tilted her hips higher, pushing his finger further into her. His touch was exactly as she’d remembered, gentle and firm.
“God, you’re so responsive, and so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, and shifted further down the bed, but his steady in and out pace did not falter once. With Avery’s legs now draped gracefully across his shoulders, he slid a second finger into her warmth, satisfied when her back arched off the bed and her wetness pressed into the palm of his hand. “I hope you’re not in a rush because I’m going to take my time with you tonight.”
Avery felt Brody smile against the silky skin of her thigh and couldn’t help but return his smile with one of her own. “You have all night to do as you please.”
“I’m afraid that one night isn’t nearly enough time to do everything that I have planned for you, Ms. Carmichael.” A wicked glint flashed in Brody’s eyes as he lowered his head and his mouth found her sweetness. His tongue captured the pearlescent drops of cream that escaped her, and he could feel Avery’s body clench his fingers, readying itself for release. He pressed his mouth to her, sucking her bud between his lips, and sending Avery toppling over the edge. When her muscles had sufficiently relaxed around him, Broody released Avery from his mouth and slid his fingers from her warmth before lying on the bed beside her. His hand moved lazily across her hip, up her stomach, and to the apex of her breast, leaving a glistening trail of cream in its wake. Hooking a finger around Avery’s bra strap, he lifted it up and swiftly released it, smiling a satisfied smile when it slapped loudly against the bare skin of her shoulder. “I think you’re still too overdressed.”
“I think you may be right,” Avery giggled, and reached behind her back to unclasp the hooks, but Brody stopped her mid-way.
“Allow me to do the honors.”
Avery propped herself up on her elbows, giving Brody enough room to reach around and unhook her bra. She’d always felt self conscious about her scar, not that any other man had seen it, but laying here in front of him, naked and completely at his mercy, Avery felt comfortable. Maybe because it was Brody that she’d bared herself to, or maybe it was the want that reflected in the depths of his chocolate brown eyes, but whatever it was, Avery felt at ease. Brody had a way of making her feel sexy and confident. Purposefully, she raised herself into a sitting position, pushing Brody onto his back in the center of the bed and straddling his hips. The tip of her tongue peeked out and she drew it across her upper lip, knowing from past experience that this simplistic gesture drove him crazy. His growing erection pressing firmly into her leg only served to prove that her theory was right.
“It’s my turn now.” Avery unfastened the button on Brody’s jeans and lowered the zipper, not at all surprised that he was going commando. But the sight of his magnificent arousal was not what intrigued her most. What caught and held Avery’s attention was the yellow lotus flowed tattooed just about his pelvis, decorating the small patch of skin where their bodies met when they made love. It perfectly matched the tattoo that adorned the top of her foot. Absentmindedly, she reached out and traced the black outline of the tattoo. Intertwined within the design, her name had been printed in elegant script. Avery looked at Brody expectantly, hoping for some sort of an explanation.
“Not all scars are visible to the human eye. The worst scars are the ones that mar the soul and can only be felt by the heart.”
Brody’s reply was heartfelt and honest and gave Avery a glimpse of how much of an impact their all too brief weekend had made on him. Against impossible odds, he’d fallen in love with her over the course of two short days and she’d repaid him by not retuning his calls and keeping him from his son. Tears stung the back of her eyes and she turned away as they began to flow freely down her cheeks.
“Hey, don’t cry,” he whispered, and cupped Avery’s chin in the palm of his hand, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “What’s done is done and there’s nothing we can say or do to change that. It’s time to focus on the future, okay?”
At a loss for words, all Avery could do was nod.
“Come here,” Brody ordered, and grasped Avery’s shoulders, drawing her towards him. He rolled over until she was underneath him, pinned to the bed by his bulky frame. “Now, where were we?”
“Hmm… I think I was about to return a favor.” Avery laughed in spite of the feelings of remorse that still lingered, but Brody was right. The past was the past and he was her here and now. She had to let it go for now. There would be plenty of time to figure things out later.
“I think,” he groaned, and kissed the crook of her neck “that as much as I appreciate you wanting to reciprocate, I’d much rather have you than your mouth, for tonight anyways.” Brody flicked his tongue along the sensitive patch of skin behind Avery’s ear. He loved how her body was still so responsive to his touch, just as his body would always recognizes hers as the other half of a whole. Using one hand to balance his weight, Brody used his other hand to tug his jeans down and off, and tossed them onto the growing mound of clothes on the floor beside the bed.
The plump head of his shaft pressed firmly against her warmth, begging to be let in. Avery was only too happy to oblige. She heard the tell tale sounds of a condom wrapper being torn open, and her body hummed with anticipation. She tilted her hips upwards, inviting Brody to do as he pleased with her, and groaned hungrily when his erection slid between her slick, wet folds, lubricating him with the cream he’d drawn from her.
“Slowly,” he growled, and bowed his head, taking her breast into his mouth. Moving as unhurriedly as he possibly could, Brody entered her, pausing when he was met by resistance. The tightness of Avery’s body and its reluctance to accept him was evidence of her years of abstinence. But he fully intended to take his time with her, reacquainting their bodies, because even if it took all night, he would draw out her pleasure for as long as his body would allow.
Avery dug her nails into Brody’s back and wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him forward, but his body remained unwavering as he torturously thrust into her as a snail’s pace.
“Faster,” she whimpered, but was met with his sly grin.
“No,” he replied, and inch by inch he entered her, only to retreat before repeating his excruciatingly measured movements.
“Please.” Her voice trembled.
Brody wanted to take his time making love to her, to bestow upon Avery as much pleasure as humanly possible, but her pleas caused his resolve to falter, and he increased his pace, each stroke swifter and harder than the last.
Avery’s body quivered as she neared release and she clenched him tightly. The sensation of Brody filling her so completely was almost more than she could bear.
Brody returned his mouth to her breast, rolling her taut nipple between his teeth. He reached between them and the pad of his thumb found her bud, engorged and ready to explode. With one stroke of his finger, Avery found her release. Her body convulsed and she drenched him as waves o
f orgasm skittered through her body. Her muscles gripped him like a vice, milking him until Brody found his own release, spilling himself in the depths of her warmth.
The first faint hints of the impending sunrise began to filter in through the open bedroom window. They lay sated in each other’s arms, Brody stroking her long tendrils of flaxen hair, and Avery sleeping peacefully with her head resting on his chest. But the hacking cough of a child startled her from her sleep and she sat upright in the bed. Parker’s coughing fit ended just as quickly as it had begun. Avery sat perfectly still, listening for any signs that her son had woken up, but the only sounds to be heard were coming from the street below. When she was satisfied that Parker was still fast asleep, she leaned back into Brody, who was now sitting upright beside her on the bed.
“Maybe I should go before he wakes up,” he offered reluctantly.
“I think that’s probably a good idea.”
Brody knew that Avery was hesitant about introducing Parker to men. Her refusal to date proved that, but he wasn’t just some guy. He was Parker’s father. “I want to meet him. I want you to properly introduce us.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I don’t want to confuse him.”
“How is introducing him to his father going to confuse him. It’s not like you have a parade of guys in and out of here every weekend. Besides, I have a right to met him. He’s my son. It’s not like we have to tell him I’m his father, not yet. I just want to meet him and get to know him a bit better.”
Parker was one of the shyest children that Avery had ever known, and he didn’t take well to strangers, but once again, Brody was right. Parker was his son and it was his parental right to see him. She’d denied Brody of his rights for too long and the time had come for them to meet. “Alright, but I have a few conditions.”
Inked Page 5
