by Amarie Avant
He nudged his square jaw. Avery took a few steps closer. Donavan’s hand skimmed the flesh between her thighs.
“Do you know how fucking erotic your purr is?” he asked.
She offered a coy smile. When his thumb popped up, coaxing her clit, just on the opposite side of her panties, she took a tapered breath. The air fizzled past her lips.
He bit his lip. His cock seeped with pre-cum, but he needed to take it slow. Cherishing the feel of her, Donavan, using his fingertips, pushed her panties to the side and grazed the slick, wet folds of her pussy. His thumb worked its way into her coils.
“All that debating your ass does, damn, AC. The pussy is all wet for me." His face burrowed into her belly. The words were muffled against her skin.
Unable to understand what he’d said, she yanked softly at his hair. “Donnie, I want you so badly right . . .” Her voice became weak. A moan bloomed from deep within her body. He turned his hand so that two fingers rotated between rapidly and slowly loving her.
Avery’s eyes sparkled in a nervous type of way then widened in delight. He caught her attention. “My beautiful, Avery, I want to fuck you too. Just give me one good release first, sweetheart, and I will fuck you."
“I can hardly stand,” she begged, arching her hips, allowing his fingers to plunge deeper. Though her breathing came in moans and pants now, Avery held his gaze and kept her curvy, athletic legs locked tight. It was torture. He was sitting, comfortable, enjoying himself. Her damn knees weren’t worth shit with how well his fingers fucked her.
“That’s right, AC, keep coming on my fingers. I want to fuck you crazy. First, all you’ve gotta do is cum for me. You’re wet, but I need that cunt sloppy wet.”
It was like she could hear his words; the way his lips moved so seductively. Avery kept her eyes on Donavan, ready to do anything he liked. Legs planted wide; she tucked her toes under. With just his two fingers, Donavan had her ready to fall to her knees and beg.
“Donavan . . .” She cried out. The muscles in her body turned to mush. In an instant, Donavan, debonair as ever, slipped his hand around her waist, sliding her onto the bed. He leaned before her now. His fingers dripping water. As he licked the trail of moisture, Avery sucked in a breath.
The taste was just enough to start an addiction. Donavan pushed her up on his shoulders. Avery gasped as her crown almost kissed the headboard. In a primal rage, he tore the panties from her ass. The loss of material alleviated an ache of desire in her core as they were ripped off. His chest contracted as his mouth dove down to her pussy. His nose nudged softly at her clit, and his tongue lapped up the perfect taste.
Donavan was hypnotized by the taste of her. He felt a wave of satisfaction as her legs began to shake over his shoulders, and she shouted a rainbow of cusses. Cum gushed out of her core, and he feasted and licked while she gripped at the pillow, pulling her hair and screaming loud enough for the entire street to hear.
When Donavan stood up, Avery’s eyes were closed. She held up a finger. “Give me some time to recuperate, Donnie. I can return the favor. Scouts honor.”
He chuckled, standing up. Now, he was fully naked, standing over her body, erection saluting her. Donavan grabbed his dick and began to massage it. Avery’s eyes slowly opened, and she licked her lips while watching the beautiful monstrosity before her. Was that the right word? She couldn’t determine the proper term for his cock; it was like a jackhammer!
“AC, this doesn't feel nearly as good as it would feel in that mouth or between those thighs.”
She gulps down saliva. “Donnie . . .”
“Spread those legs, beautiful.”
Her legs slide apart. Getting a full view of her, Donavan crawled into bed, ready to grip her leg, and pull her beneath him, but her legs came together like a closed book.
Avery’s eyes twinkled with sultry mischief, and she laughed a super ugly laugh where a person had to be out-of-this-world in love with her to think it was cute. And damn it, Donnie loved that crazy little laugh. Her cheeks warmed, and she jumped to her knees, straddling him. “I want my taste, too, Donnie.”
Her fingers were dainty against his hard chest. She pushed him back against the pillows. He took in a deep breath of her floral shampoo fragrance, as Avery grabbed his piece.
“You taste so good,” she whispered before licking up his long shaft. His fingers fisted her hair as her mouth glided up and down his cock, sucking and flicking as she went.
His toes clenched as Avery watched him from beneath the flutter of her long eyelashes.
Warning himself not to erupt to readily, Donavan pulled her up to him. She gave a triumphant little grin as he laid her down. The head of his erection slid along her clit.
“Yes!” Her head fell back against the pillows, exposing her neck. Donavan reached down to kiss her, and his manhood dipped into her ocean and right back out. He slid his hand down her neck and gave it a little squeeze.
Avery puckered her lip, but when she looked up at him, he said, “I’m gonna make you beg, baby.”
She bit her bottom lip and grabbed his ass in an attempt to force his thrust. Donavan took hold of Avery’s wrists and placed them up behind her head. With his knees as leverage, Donavan slid his cock against her pearl.
“Shit,” Avery screamed in pure ecstasy. She easily began to beg for him to screw her, and he rammed his dick into her body, jolting her hips and arching her back.
“Oh yes, yes, Donavan, yessss!” Her voice was seductive, raw. She lifted her ass, giving him all access to her pussy.
He caressed her thighs down to her calves until she lifted her leg over his shoulder, and then the next until she was in a pretzel position. With each thrust, Donavan was brought into a deeper, wetter ocean with more force than the last. He grabbed hold of the headboard as Avery panted into his ear.
They caught a rhythm until their skin was iridescent with salted sweat. The moment Donavan was about to cum, he looked deeply into Avery’s eyes. A moan blossomed from her lips. He kissed that sweet little moan as she came on his cock, and he did her one even better. His cum erupted deep inside of her body, sending her beautiful, long lashes fluttering. Donavan positioned himself the best way he could so that he wasn’t crushing down on her. She clung to him, their heartbeats slamming against each other. As her mouth tipped at the edges into a full-blown grin, Donavan pressed his lops to one side of her smile and then the other. I want you to have my baby again… I want us to do it right this time…
His mind rarely worked after sex, but her body had made his massive, brick-like frame feel like a big cuddly bear. Now, his thoughts were running rampant.
He saw a future.
A good one.
“Avery…” he began.
She groaned, appearing not to have heard him. Though she looked at peace, her eyebrows were kneaded together. “You’re burning something.”
“Oh, fuck it’s the . . . ” he started, but she was so satiated it took a moment for her to glance his way. He signed. “I cooked dinner.”
The fire alarm shrieked. Donavan jumped up onto the mattress and off the end of the bed, hightailing it down the hall and into the kitchen. He grabbed the pot with his hands, growled and dropped the entire contents onto the floor. Avery chuckled from behind him.
“You never cook, do you.” She arched an eyebrow while grabbing a pair of mittens.
“Breakfast food for Josh,” he signed in frustration. He glanced at the blue, red and orange fire licking at the eye on the stove. I thought I turned you down to simmer. He flicked off the burner and helped Avery clean up the mess.
“Sit, I got this.” He placed a hand over hers.
“It’s okay, Donnie.”
“Sit.” His wrist flicked as he signed the word, marking the end of the discussion.
“It actually smelled really good when we walked through the house earlier.” She said moving to a chair and offering a little pout.
He shrugged, picking up the pot on the ground.
Placing the pot in the sink, Donavan finished wiping the mess on the floor. He grumbled inside. Dinner was fucked over. It just reminded him of Avery’s worth, and how much he was incapable of giving it to her. She deserved the world, and he’d have to rob and kill to give it. Still, that wouldn’t be enough. Now, he was tied into doing something crazy for Palmer. And Palmer had even mentioned another assignment once that one was completed. Could he stop? Donavan hadn’t paid taxes in years. He didn’t live by the rules of modern society. Could he help Avery run a bed and breakfast out of Franny’s home?
The night should’ve been perfect, topped off with him telling her about Johnson’s Construction. The acrid smell of burnt sauce just reminded him of how easy it was for him to come up short.
“Donnie,” she huffed. “Donavan. Sheesh, I actually just gave you a compliment. I said that it smelled nice earlier. You are well versed on how to become angry quickly. Guess I should be glad you haven’t changed much.”
His eyebrows rose. He hadn’t been paying her much attention because his mind was engulfed with other thoughts. “AC, you’re hungry, I’ll take you to dinner.”
“Do you have any more spaghetti sauce?”
He nudged his head toward a cupboard and leaned against the counter.
While opening a cupboard, she glanced back to ask, “You had your mom’s recipe, right?”
He nodded with a grunt.
As she started moving through the kitchen, pulling out the Italian seasonings and the jar of Bertolli’s, Donavan grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. “What are you going to do, AC?”
She blinked a few times. “Cook.”
He rubbed his face. “But we don’t have everything. I used all of the—”
“Donavan, stop making yourself angry.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “We will improvise and create our own recipe as you tell me about this surprise you have for me.”
CHAPTER 29
AVERY
Three Weeks Later
The last couple of weeks had been perfect. Donavan had introduced her to Quentin, and the crew he was able to rally had already begun to strip portions of the home’s decaying wood. They all agreed that Johnson’s Construction would leave the areas such as the ballroom and kitchen for a historian to preview first. Each morning, before she went to teach the piano, she helped with some of the work. Her dream for Baudelaire manor was slowly coming to fruition.
Avery exchanged the scarf from her head and her faded jeans that she wore while helping remove scraps earlier for Italian silk. Her manicured fingertips skimmed over the luxurious material. She brushed out a tiny wrinkle. Olive green brought out the amber of Avery’s rich brown skin tone. Her hair was pressed into a bone straight ponytail to display a flawlessly nude face, which set off her ensemble. Avery was placing a gold necklace on that brought the eye to her chest as Donavan came from down the hall. Through the dresser mirror, her gaze quickly swept up and down drinking in the sight of him just as his eyes washed over her frame too.
“Well damn, AC, what can I say?” He was speechless.
“Hmmm, you were at a loss for words when you took me to the tenth-grade winter formal, Donnie. This is your do-over. Give me your best,” she quipped. “No drooling.”
“Okay, I’m game. I can do this. I'll begin with the simple fact that you look beautiful, sophisticated, gorgeous. I reckon I’m gonna need a thesaurus to gather the rest of the best words.” He paused, licking his lips for effect, and her eyes zeroed in on perfect white teeth framed by the sincerest, most loving lips as he continued. “As a matter of fact, there are no words to express how beautiful you look tonight.”
Though he’d melted her heart with that statement, Avery continued to taunt him. “Stunned speechless? We’ve watched a year’s full of romance movies in the past couple of weeks. You should’ve taken notes.” Avery grinned.
He gave a soft chuckle that Avery imagined sounded like a panty wetter.
“Hmmm, you clean up well, as usual, Donavan.” She nodded in an attempt not to continue gawking. All the tattoos had been submerged into a neat, suited package. The black suit made Donavan’s tan skin pop. It was an added bonus to the fact that he filled it out very well.
~~~
Her heart rate quickened. The party that her parents were hosting at her childhood home had gone off without a hitch. That is until her father, Alexander, stood at the top landing of the double staircase to give a speech about the very thing that his wife hated—The Baudelaire mansion.
He had no right. For one, Verdrena had hated the stigma from her family home all her life. Second, this was Avery’s baby, and it had nothing to do with her dad.
She clutched at the stem of her flute full of Cristal, an action that was frowned upon by her mother.
“Are you okay,” Donavan signed. “I thought we agreed if anger was needed, I do that shit very well.”
“Ha!” Avery was too livid to laugh at his joke. “My mother’s family home has nothing to do with my father.”
Alexander droned on about how beautiful the place would be once it was turned into a museum. A museum! He knew nothing of her goals. He then asked Avery to join him at his side.
She grabbed Donavan’s hand, and he stopped short of sipping his own champagne as they went up the stairs to a crowd of applause.
“Hello, Ladies and Gentlemen.” Avery took no time in correcting her father’s mistake. “I have no intention of turning my mother’s family home into a museum, so please, put your checkbooks back into your pockets. I have teamed up with my best friend, Donavan Hardy, and we are opening a seasonal bed and breakfast, just as we discussed with my late great-grandmother Francis Baudelaire.”
“Oh, but these people want to give you their money.” Alexander hooked an arm around his daughter’s shoulder. “These are my good friends, my lovely daughter, and—”
Help they could use, but since Alexander only knew how to step on toes and toss out bombs, Avery grabbed the microphone from his hand. “We would like to extend an invite to everyone for the grand opening.”
“When will that occur?” Her father countered.
Donavan stepped closer to Avery. “This is a project that Avery and I have taken on that will no doubt be a slow, steady race. Although we do welcome anyone with a background in architectural history to assist in these endeavors, we have a construction team working diligently to get the ball in motion.”
“I like the sound of that,” one of the patrons said.
Another man raised his flute. “I’m a curator, Alex, give the kids my information.”
Avery almost blew a gasket as she was referred to as a kid.
“Thank you,” Donavan said. Since Avery was unable to read the words of the people with the spotlight solely on them, he signed some of the words. Today, he was her calm in the storm. She followed suit and thanked them as well.
~~~
Donavan had to admit that, in the past, he thought the Castles held elaborate affairs for no reason at all. Avery would force Donavan to attend and force her father’s hand to allow him to come when Donavan didn’t want to go in the first place. The only thing he liked about the events her parents hosted was the two of them sneaking out while the meal was served. Tonight, however, he stood side by side with Avery, as they chatted with another couple, he realized that these parties had a purpose. It was all about making money, which was something he understood. Another thing he noticed, that he considered a positive, was a change in Avery. He knew that when they were younger, she steered clear of conversing in groups. It made it harder for her to perceive the tone of emotion changing or even just the words if people got excited and talked incessantly. But this evening, she’d mingled with the crowd and owned every one of the conversations she was in.
After a while, Avery had disappeared to the ladies’ room with her mom. He knew they’d be a while. Donavan was unable to find a corner to get lost in with philanthropists congratulating him and Avery on the Baudelaire project. Each one wanted to sho
ve money down their throats and offer advice, but Avery had her mind set, and really, she was following the wishes of her great-grandmother Franny. She had agreed to speak with each person with an open mind. If their feelings of altruism stayed the same running parallel with Franny’s last wishes, she’d be obliged to take their money.
He moved from one set of proper and affluently dressed couples to another until he’d ended up backing himself in the wrong direction—next to Alexander.
Avery’s father leaned an elbow against the marble mantle of an empty fireplace with a snifter in his hand. He tipped back the amber liquid in a contrite grin.
“Ah, Donnie . . .” He took Donavan’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “The man who can’t be bought. Let me tell you something.” He held tight to Donavan’s hand, both squeezing with shark jaws for grips. “I keep people in my pockets. You know what still astonishes me in this day and age. A man who is above taking money.”
“There’s no amount of money in this world that can touch how much I love your daughter, Mr. Castle.” Donavan contained his anger for Alexander’s warped state of mind.
Alexander offered a stiff grin and nodded.
“And since we’re discussing feelings. I should mention that you’ve pissed off your daughter, tonight.”
Donavan had struck a chord. Avery’s father looked momentarily disappointed in himself. But he cleaned it up quickly. “She’s always pissed.”
Shit, me too. Half the time. “Just at you.”
Alexander placed his drink on the mantle and huffed. “You might be on to something there.”
