by Amarie Avant
He was watching her from his peripheral while undoing his belt. Her hands went over his, and Donavan let her take control. She was hardly five feet two and had to ascend on her tippy toes. Her thick lips pushed together seductively. He turned his head, allowing her mouth to kiss a trail along his neck as she finished pulling off his belt. She unbuttoned his pants.
As Boobies descended to her knees, Donavan closed his eyes, but he couldn’t imagine that she was the woman who had his heart. She smelled good, but not like her. She was a warm, eager body, but he was never one for confusing people. Half the time, a person had to fight for his love.
But dammit, did this young woman get his dick hard. Her grip was perfect, not too tight, not a scary delicate touch; he hated timid.
“You are huge,” she marveled, working his cock in her hand. She wasn’t exaggerating. The tips of her thumb and middle finger didn’t have half a chance of meeting. She gave him a good stroking, her hand slowly extending up and down his lengthy cock. Her other palm expertly rolled his balls around. “Let’s see if I can get you all in.”
He was stoic just waiting for release.
As Donavan’s cock grew to its magnificence, her mouth became slack like a foodie at an all-inclusive buffet, unable to figure out just where to start. Her fingertips caressed the thick veins at the base of his cock.
At first, Boobies closed her lips over the head and moaned like he was the perfect popsicle on a hot summer’s day. The warmth of her mouth further stiffened his shaft. Her head bobbed as she began to suck him down, each stroke pounded against her tonsils, causing him to finally feel the moment. Donavan’s hand gripped into her hair and provided her with the perfect rhythm. With each stroke of his cock down her throat, Boobies took him deeper.
The back of her throat gave a mind-blowing, titillating sensation. Her tonsils banged against the crown of his head, then squeezed around it, back and forth, banging and squeezing.
“Shittttt,” Donavan grumbled. “Little Mama, I’m gonna come all down that throat.” He wasn’t offering her a chance to pull out. With no concern for how hard he yanked at her hair, he continued to lead, and she eagerly followed.
Her super long lashes fluttered upward, and she grinned, proof that she craved his cum. He took on an even wider stance, ready to erupt. The woman drunk every last drop of him. A few minutes later, when he handed her the pile of clothing she dropped on the floor, she wasn’t even angry.
“Next time?” She arched an eyebrow.
Donavan shrugged. “I’m not the promising kind.”
~~~
It was Friday, almost seventy-two hours since Donavan had drunkenly texted Avery. Since then, she’d texted about dinner and called a few times, but Donavan hadn’t responded. He hadn’t done much searching for Willie, and Palmer was hounding him. But this morning, he found himself in the kitchen making pancakes for the arrival of his nephew, Joshua.
With the paper-thin walls, he could hear Carly arguing with the boy as she jiggled the keys into the front door. The bacon was crackling, and a short stack was already ready for the little guy. He flipped his wrist, and another pancake landed on the last one.
“—How many times do I have to tell you to brush your teeth, Josh. Everyone looks at me—the kid who had the baby—like I don’t take care of you, but you are not making it easy. Brush your teeth; comb your damn hair. Your ass is getting too old,” she reprimanded her son.
“Mom, I did brush my teeth,” he whined.
Donavan turned around ready to chuckle at the two. They were always arguing. For only nine years old, little Josh was almost to his mother’s shoulder. Both had the same frizzy hair and buttercream skin tone. Carly was dressed in light blue scrubs that complemented her eyes. Josh had on his favorite pair of jeans, a white shirt, and he wore the baseball cap Donavan had bought him, which made the boy’s thick hair bush up around his ears like a miniature fro.
Instead of cracking a smile, Donavan reached over, turned the flame off on the burner, and went to hug Josh. His hand went to the boy’s head, flicked the cap off, and he palmed his hair like a father who’d just came home from a long day’s work, or better yet, a proud father who’d just watched his son score his first home run.
“Sheesh, you just saw us last week.” Carly bypassed the scene for a piece of bacon.
“Hey, uncle Donnie,” Josh looked up at him with bright blue eyes. Donavan wondered what color his son’s eyes would have been—a hazel like his own or a pristine brown like his mother’s.
“Go brush your teeth,” he ordered.
“I did.”
The look on Donavan’s face warranted no argument, and Joshua went running toward the bathroom.
“Thanks for stepping up to the plate.” Carly played with the strap of her purse. “Dad’s loopy today. Friggen holiday on Monday, then it’s teacher conferences today and next daggone Monday. Then schools out in two weeks. What am I going to do?”
Donavan sat down at the table. “Bring him here.”
She sniggered. “Oh, yeah, thanks. Not sure if I’m grateful that you’re always available, because, on the one hand, you’re not even using your potential. But on the other hand, you are always available. You know, if you stop messing with Palmer and get a real job, I’ll pay for summer school. Just let me know to start saving my pennies.”
Leaning back in the chair, Donavan gave her the middle finger salute, to which Carly laughed and stole another piece of bacon. Like a big brother ready to argue, he made his case. “I don’t’ know my potential? Okay, Carly. I can always watch my nephew, and if he has a summer camp that he wants to attend, you let me know because my little thing I have going with Palmer can pay for that too.”
She flicked her blond hair and headed toward the hallway while having the last word over her shoulder. “You’ll be rethinking the easy money if you ever want to get . . . Oh, never mind.”
“Get what?” Donavan stood abruptly and followed her toward the front door. “Usually your last word packs a punch. I guess I won—”
“Avery.”
The moment Carly said her name the competitive smile on his face diminished. “What are you talking about?” He rubbed the back of his neck, firmly aware that he and Avery were going nowhere fast.
Carly huffed. “Nothing, I guess. It’s just that she was asking about you on Memorial Day, I think it was. Dad was awake long enough to talk to her. I thought the two of you might be . . .”
He stuffed his hands into the pocket of his jeans, attempting not to be perceived as restless.
Carly gripped the knob and started out onto the porch. “Even with you being a douche bag, she does her best with Josh. She’s a good godmother, and dammit, the best thing you ever had.”
He let his adoptive sister have the last word. Her statement had packed enough punch to shut him down.
A little while later, Donavan had finished scrambling eggs. He had two plates in his hands, placing one before Joshua and sitting across from him. “OJ, apple juice?”
“Soda?”
“Water?” He countered.
Joshua huffed. “Soda water?” The glare in Donavan’s eyes forced him to grin and add, “Okay, uncle Donnie. I’ll take OJ. But you’re supposed to be cooler than my mom.”
“Oh, but I am, little Josh,” Donavan gave a wink as he went to the cupboard. “We gotta get you in beast mode for baseball. Orange juice is a good call. I’ll add a little protein to help bulk up those muscles. Those shoulders are too damn tiny and—”
Donavan stopped talking as Joshua cut in, exclaiming, “Hey! It’s my god mom!”
Donavan glanced over at the refrigerator door with a confused expression. He wasn’t sure where Joshua’s outburst had come from until he noticed his nephew swiping his cell phone that had been sitting next to his plate.
Joshua was already speaking into the receiver. “Hey, god mommy!”
Donavan arched an eyebrow while grabbing the Minute Maid. “Hey, don’t ever answer my phone without my
permission—”
Joshua’s eyes widened, but he wasn’t scared of Donavan’s threat; he was listening to the other end of the call. “Uncle, AC is hurt!”
“What?” Donavan dropped the container onto the counter and started for his nephew.
With shaky hands and saucers for blue eyes, Joshua screeched, “Sh-she said she might die. Come quick.”
Donavan snatched it. He expected a relay operator, but she’d called him directly.
“Please, Donnie. I need you . . .” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Donavan had already started out the front door.
Though Donavan had a truck, he grabbed his helmet, ready to ride like crazy. At the sound of Joshua closing the front door and running down the steps, Donavan recalled what he was supposed to be doing today. “Can you stay home alone?” He asked, pressing the kickstand on his bike.
“I never have.” Joshua’s pace faltered. It was clear the thought of being left alone scared the little guy.
Donavan tossed his helmet over to Joshua. He didn’t have time to get the spare. Just as Joshua placed the helmet down on his head, Donavan yanked him by the waist and placed Joshua behind him.
“Hold tight!” He ordered.
CHAPTER 21
Avery
She’d finally done it. Taken the plunge. Much to her dismay, Avery now worked part-time at LaChelle’s piano company. The hours were good; the pay was phenomenal. The snotty kids with expensive tastes and bad attitudes would ultimately provide her with enough money for to remodel the Baudelaire home. So what that it’d take forever. She was persistent. She’d written everything in her planner. Finishing one room at a time, she’d be done with the place by the time she turned forty-five. That was if her calculations about living on a budget, watching the Home Improvement Channel, and utilizing various YouTube DIY channels helped. She wouldn’t skimp on the materials though.
If she stopped and thought about it long enough, her stubborn could maybe just have her smackdab back in that place she hated—Sunnymead Resort. But she’d take it easy. As long as her goal of fulfilling her great-grandmother Franny’s wishes didn’t become an obsession, she’d be safe. So, with this ornery tenacity, Avery stood in the west wing master suite at the Baudelaire mansion.
There was an electric hotplate in the humongous kitchen downstairs if the antique stove was not working. She’d packed most of her stuff from her parents’ guesthouse and was prepared to get started. This was the room she planned on freshening up first. She planned to hammer down a few missing wooden boards on the floor by the end of the day, then add a fresh coat of paint. Most of the bedrooms did not need much work.
With an en suite bathroom that had a claw-foot tub and running water, she was motivated to see Franny’s dream to fruition, no matter how long it took.
She’d thoroughly went through Salvador’s home on Wednesday. Taking only items she had bought for herself, she left things that he’d kept at her guesthouse, which didn’t amount to anything as they had always slept at his house
She had never fully let him in. Avery felt sad about it, wondering if it would’ve been as easy to walk away from Salvador if she’d had loved him whole heartily.
Avery took the lace blanket off the bed with care. It was now off-white due to age but still very beautiful in her eyes. She planned to put fresh sheets on the bed. She started to fold the blanket, wondering if Franny or another ancestor had made it when she sneezed.
The sneeze turned into a cackling, hacking cough, and Avery stepped back, to get away from the dust mites that shimmered in the sunlight from the bright windows.
If Avery had been able to hear, she would have heard the CRACK. It was a big sound, filling the house. A second later, her right foot plunged into the wood flooring. The splintering wood took some of the skin from her calf, all the way up to her thigh.
“Shit!” She gasped. With one leg stuck in the floor, Avery twisted her other leg around until she appeared to be kneeling. She took a gulp. She was sure that this master bedroom was above the ballroom. If she fell through . . .
Hands shaking, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She considered calling the cops, but Alexander was still in town.
She’d rather have a broken leg than ask him anything.
Salvador?
She’d just broken his heart. And Avery wasn’t quite sure he had returned from Florida yet.
Her mom would have a heart attack and argue on her way over while leading a Calvary of ambulances, an entire fire crew, and more. Most likely, when Verdrena arrived, she’d notice the luggage downstairs and put two and two together that Avery planned to live at the plantation indefinitely!
Donavan hadn’t answered her since his stupid texts on Tuesday night.
Her body jolted down another foot. Now, her entire waist was being scratched by the wood splinters.
She dialed his number and begged to God that he’d answer.
The phone clattered from her hand and fell to the ground.
While inwardly groaning about even thinking about falling through the floor rather than calling her dad, she watched as the screen brightened.
“Calling mobile,” the phone indicated.
Then as soon as the call connected, one second, two seconds, she was shouting. “Donnie, I’m at the Baudelaire mansion!”
In fear that her screaming might push her through the hole even more, Avery continued in an urgent whisper. “I’m falling. Please, please come. I might die.” She hoped she sounded convincing but didn’t want to shout for fear that the wood would continue to cave in.
Ten minutes later, her shirt was torn, and she had to use all her upper body to leverage herself from falling through. Her forearms were beginning to shake. This is karma being a bitch, Avery, she told herself, you broke up with a good, good guy. You said it wasn’t over another man. But dammit, you are an idiot!
Avery’s eyes shut tightly. Her teeth crunched together as she concentrated all her strength on keeping from falling. She’d always kept her stamina up, but upper body strength? The last time she used that she’d gotten into a fight with some chick whose boyfriend was fighting Donnie, and the bitch thought it was okay to jump in. So what that she wouldn’t have won if both guys had stopped fighting, mesmerized by a catfight. Donavan ended up hauling her over his shoulder since it had been clear that she wasn’t coming out victorious anytime soon.
Avery perceived a presence and opened her eyes.
Joshua Hardy! He stopped dead in his tracks at the doorway to the room, knobby knees shaking with worry for her. But where was Donavan? The little guy wasn’t nearly strong enough to pull her up.
“Donnie told me to stay put. But you have to let go, AC,” he mouthed from the door.
“Let go?” She hissed. Was this her imagination? It should’ve taken Donavan longer to get here. Granted she was grateful that Joshua—or the ghost of him was here—if a human could have a ghost, but how had they gotten here so quickly?!
“I can’t let go,” she bit out the words.
“Donavan is downstairs. He promised he’d catch you.”
“I . . .”
“He didn’t know if he’d make it here in time. AC, just let go.”
“No,” she shouted just as the boards broke, and she was swallowed through the opening. A high-pitched shriek echoed throughout the empty rooms of the seventeen thousand square foot mansion. Afraid to look, Avery closed her eyes. Her heart dropped as it seemed she was falling forever from the twenty feet plus ceiling. She fell straight into Donavan’s big, strong arms. Her savior held her close to his thick chest.
Eyes wide with fright, Avery caught her breath.
“You’re okay.” A murmur passed through his beautiful, kissable lips. His warm hazel eyes seemed in shock too.
At the slight hint that Donavan cared, walls resurrected around Avery. She’d reached out to him for the past three days. Hell, he’d left her. Regardless of the dynamics, he wasn’t making it easy for them to b
e friends. Did he want to be friends? That didn’t matter now because she was the only one making an effort.
The fear on her face contorted into a controlled smile. “Thank you.” She wriggled within his large grasp, expecting to be placed down but he didn’t.
“You’re welcome.”
“Now put me—”
His lips started to crush down onto hers. She could taste the maple syrup in his kiss. How convenient? He had the most perfect lips in the entire world, that felt like a puzzle piece against her own, and his mouth tasted sweet like pancakes. The ruthless bastard. Just as his tongue began to caress her own, Avery slapped him like a prized, fatted pig. The ramifications of his strong jaw to her palm felt like she’d wrapped her hand around an M-180 firework while it was going off. She bit her tongue to fend off the pain.
Without so much as flinching, Donavan offered something of an apology. “I forgot. Miss Castle is off the market. When you’re in my arms, my mind is on one thought.”
“I didn’t slap you over another man, Donavan. I slapped you for trying your luck after the way you’ve treated me. I’m no longer with Salvador as if that just automatically gives you the right . . .” Her tone went dead. She pushed herself from the tight grip of his strong arms.
Yeah, diarrhea of the mouth. She’d placed her foot in her mouth the day they’d reconnected when she told Donavan she had a man without being prompted. The last time she’d opened her mouth to divulge additional, unnecessary information, she was thirteen and had realized that her best friend was super-hot.
“Thanks. I’ll be seeing ya.” Avery strutted toward the grand entrance of the ballroom ready to escort him to the door of the estate if he had forgotten.
Before she got ten yards away, Donavan was standing before her on the scuffed-up dance floor. “I just saved your life—or your legs at the very least. So, what’s with the cold shoulder?”
“I thanked you for that, so go!” Although she looked like she’d just gone through a grinder, Avery was astonished at the strength in her legs as she pressed her hands against the immovable wall that was his chest. She ended up leaning forward for more leverage, but Donavan didn't budge. He just glanced down at her, a very sexy arched eyebrow on such a beautiful face. There was stubble on his jaw today that made his usual baby face seem more dangerous.
