Dario

by Eden Butler

  “Okay, what can I do for—” The smile dropped, then trembled before she let out a sigh, but recovered, tugging on her apron before she stood in front of me. “Mr. Carelli?” She smelled like cookies and vanilla, and there was flour on her right cheek. She always had flour somewhere when she baked, that much I’d noticed.

  “Miss Anderson.” Her frozen smile twitched as I moved closer and glanced at the sample case behind her. “These any good?” Ava stiffened when I reached over her shoulder, grabbing a lemon square, not waiting for her answer before I bit into it.

  “You…you tell me.”

  It was sweet, gooey, just as delicious as everything Ava made, but I exaggerated my moan, tearing into the square and licking my lips with my attention on her.

  “Well?” Her gaze moved over my face, landing on my bottom lip. She liked the ring. Seemed to never keep her eyes off it.

  “It’s good. But then, I’m guessing you knew that.” I licked my lips, catching a few bits of powdered sugar and Ava’s attention sharpened. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she stopped breathing. “See now,” I told her coming closer, managing to make her to step back, against the display case without doing anything more than taking a few steps, “you shoot me down, pretend you don’t want me making anything up to you, but then you look at me the way you are now—”

  “I’m…not looking at you any—”

  “And I get the feeling you probably don’t know what the hell you want.” She stopped against the case, palms flat. I remembered this game. The push and pull. I used to be a pro at it.

  “I told you, I’m not interested—”

  The smallest, softest gasp left her mouth when I reached for her face, making like I’d push her chin up, maybe get it all over with and just kiss her, but I diverted my touch choosing instead to grab another lemon square.

  She didn’t blink when I took a bite and she gave her bottom lip the slightest curve under her top teeth when I bit into it.

  “You want some?” Immediately, she shook her head, swallowing when I took another bite “Do you…want me?”

  “I don’t…you and me we aren’t…”

  “Because I want you, Ava.” She shook, exhaling another soft breath when I leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “And I think you want me more than you’re willing to admit, darlin’.”

  That time I did touch her face, using my free hand to pull her chin up, my gaze over her shocked features, but I didn’t kiss her. I didn’t do more than give her a bite of the lemon square, grinning when she went wide-eyed and speechless as she took it.

  “Delicious.”

  “It…” Ava brushed her mouth and few bits of flakey crust fell onto her shirt. “It’s a best seller.” Then she cleared her throat, head shaking as she pushed on my chest, moving me back. “You’re not playing fair.”

  “Oh, we’re playing now?”

  She brushed past me, moving into the kitchen, to the counter in front of a bowl of batter mixing on low speed.

  “At least now you’re admitting there’s a game.”

  “You’re the only one playing,” she said, taking a spatula to push back the batter on the sides of the bowls.

  “Sweetheart, whether you want to admit it or not, you’re playing too.”

  Ava straightened her back when I stood behind her, my eyes shutting closed at the scent of her skin. She’d only let me get this close to her a couple of times and neither had led to anything good.

  “I don’t wanna play games with you.”

  “No?” She glanced over her shoulder, staring at me like she refused to believe a word I said. “Because you seem awfully good at it. Seems to me all you want to do is play games.”

  “No.” Something in my voice stopped her, had her putting down the spatula, and I grabbed the opportunity, easing a hand around her waist, brushing back the hair from her shoulder to get close. “The only thing I want to play at, is seeing how loud I can make you scream.”

  Ava’s body shook and the sweet roundness of her ass came back against me. I could make out the arch of her back and the swell of her hips when I kissed her neck.

  “You want that, I know you do.” The shaking in her limbs got worse when I moved my hand up, my fingertips teasing the underside of her breast. She leaned her head against my shoulder when I brushed my thumb across her nipple. “Me and you, sweetheart. Alone, naked. Touching…” She shuddered against my finger, stifling a breath I knew she wanted to release. “All you have to do is say yes.”

  “To…to you…and—”

  “And I’ll give you whatever you want.” I let a slow, satisfied smile relax my face when I pinched her nipple and Ava moaned, hips pushing back, making me hard and happy. “Let me make you feel good.” She tasted sweet, decadent when I kissed her neck again, my fingers against her warm skin, moving to the other breast to tease that one too. “Let me show you good it feels, how good I can make it, leading you…dominating this sweet body.”

  It was a slip of the tongue, but still, too far, too much.

  Ava’s entire body went stiff, and she rolled her neck, pushing away from me, covering her hard nipples by crossing her arms. “See, that’s the problem, I don’t let anyone dominate me, Mr. Carelli.”

  “You don’t understand…”

  “Oh, I think I do.” She slapped my hand away when I reached for her, jerking her attention to the bell that signal someone had entered the shop. “I spent too long being forced into the kind of shit you want from me, and I will never be that person again. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

  “Ava!” Angelica called, her voice reassuring as she spoke to someone I didn’t recognize. “Honey, come quick.”

  We both moved into the lobby, and Ava averted the glare on Angelica’s face to stand next to a woman in a messy bun holding a Gucci bag. The woman wore a wrinkled blouse, and mascara smeared under her eyes.

  “This is Annie Colson,” Angelica said, sparing a glare for me before she turned toward Ava. “She and my aunt are in the same book club, and she’s had a little accident.”

  “It was my golden retriever. We love him, he’s our nugget, but…my daughter’s birthday party is tomorrow and well…I’m so screwed!” The woman showed Ava her phone, getting a low gasp from the baker. “Right? I mean he ate almost the whole cake and well, tomorrow is Sunday. I can’t get a replacement for that many people, and my husband stupidly invited his boss and their kids. I can’t…this is a nightmare—”

  “Don’t worry,” Ava said, her smile sweet and comforting. “Angelica, we have that batter from this morning. Mrs. McDaniels canceled the bake sale.”

  “I figured she would. That’s why I told Annie maybe we could help her.”

  “Really?” Annie said, wiping at her smudged eyes. “Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!”

  “Come on, sugar. Let’s get you some coffee,” Angelica told the woman, her eyes widening with Annie giggled, her hands trembling as she gripped Angelica’s arm. “Ah…decaf, I think.”

  Ava walked to the door, flipping the Open sign to Closed and inhaled before she turned to me. “I’m gonna be busy for a while.”

  “Our conversation isn’t over,” I told her, not caring that Angelica watched me stand too close in front of Ava.

  “Yeah,” she said, pulling the door open, “it’s over. Get out and leave me alone.”

  I moved through the threshold, turning back to try to explain myself again; even opened my mouth, ready to tell her why she was wrong, but Ava shook her head, uttering a quick, “Save it,” before she slammed the door in my face.

  15

  Dario

  Angelica left just after Annie’s car had been loaded down with a few boxes of what I guessed were fresh cupcakes. It hadn’t taken as long as Ava had guessed. That much I knew because I sat across the street bundled up, wanting to be close when Ava was done, under the awning of some foo-foo boutique waiting and watching.

  Angelica’s Toyota pulled to the four-way and hung a left and then, I moved, ma
king it to the bakery before Ava had a chance to turn off the lights and lock the door.

  There wouldn’t be any more distractions.

  The shop was quiet when I entered, still, and I spotted Ava in the small seating area near the furnace, the same place where she’d fed me tarts. She was proud, pigheaded but didn’t seem surprised when she looked over her shoulder to see who’d come into her bakery.

  “Do me a favor and don’t waste your breath,” she said, picking up a glass of wine from the table next to her. “And while you’re doing favors, go out that door and don’t come back.”

  “You want that?” I knew she’d lie. She was good at that shit. Almost as good as she was at deflection.

  She didn’t answer, nodding once like that small movement was all she had the energy to manage.

  Fuck that.

  My heels tapped against the tile floor when I moved back to the door, reaching for the blinds on the windows, I shut them, then flipped the outside light off before I grabbed the deadbolt and gave it twist.

  Behind me, Ava muttered something low, sharp, something that sounded a lot like “fuck.” She didn’t move when I went to her, except to stretch her neck and straighten her spine, like she was gearing up for battle. Like she was ready to play this game.

  I hadn’t lied to her about my reading people and her I read like a best seller. She avoided things she wanted. Things that might complicate her life.

  There was no reason to her stubbornness.

  There was no rhyme to her obstinance.

  I’d seen grown men doing life with less pig-headed ways. But what I knew about the woman—and what she tried to hide from every man that gave her even the smallest second glance—was that she was lonely.

  Strong people, capable people who like to be in control, don’t like to maintain that control all the time. No one can keep that up. It starts to fuck with them. It fractures their resolve and if there isn’t some slipping of that control, then…

  They never find freedom.

  They never feel release.

  She ignored me as I watched her, standing behind her in the small area. The day was done. The stock for the next morning looked prepared. But she was still here, in her designer skirt and apron, pretending there were still things to do. Pretending my questions, my presence didn’t challenge her.

  When I moved, Ava’s shoulders went rigid, and I spotted the curl of her fingers on the chair she sat in.

  “You think a strong woman is made weak when a man insists on dominance in the bedroom?”

  Her back was a rod now. Even in the low light, I could make out how she kept herself straight, how ridged her limbs were, how she lifted her chin like she refused to show any weakness at all.

  It was so fucking obvious. The woman hadn’t had anyone stretch her out in forever.

  Not that back, not those hips, not that wide, plump ass. Damn sure not that pussy.

  Just the idea of it, of her spread out on that metal table, her thick red hair everywhere, her pale, perfect skin glowing in the dark kitchen had me aching to touch her. But, I reminded myself, this was a game, me teasing her like this. Me getting under her skin because I knew I could. The fire was there, just below the surface, but she wouldn’t let anyone see it.

  Ava moved her head, her gaze on me as I made slow steps behind her, keeping myself a few feet away, not close enough to be a threat, but near enough that I could take her if she asked.

  Fuck, I wish she would.

  “That’s not why I want to be in control,” I continued, hand in my pocket, taking a step. I could make out her profile from the chandelier light. She had a face that should be hanging in a museum. Can’t remember if I’ve ever wanted a woman as long as I wanted her. Sex had gotten easier for me since I got out. The habit returned. At first, fucking was a necessity. Something I did to remind myself what I’d gone without for five damn years. Then, over the months, it was simpler, expected. Now, there was no need to even wait for women to offer themselves to me. It was there for the taking, always. Except for Ava. Her presence had made me pause for months now. I didn’t want easy and expected.

  I just wanted her.

  Another step and those shoulders shook. She moved her gaze up now, eyes wider, unblinking as I looked down at her. I’d stood so close to her earlier today, had her pressed against the counter, felt the soft curves of her body next to me, felt how she shook as I leaned into her.

  I wasn’t the only one waiting.

  “Ava,” I started, keeping gravel in my tone.

  She shifted her gaze, the movement slow until she looked right at me.

  “Stand up for me.” I didn’t expect her to listen. She never had before, but something in my tone seemed to affect her and Ava, stubborn, strong Ava, stood, not facing me, her attention on the floor lamp in front of her. I was hard already seeing how she submitted, knowing if I was any other man, if we were anywhere else, she’d laugh at me.

  “Come here.”

  Her movements were cautious but deliberate, and I didn’t bother to adjust myself as she moved. I was proud, bold, wanted her to see what just her listening, obeying me, did to my body. My breathing was calm, fingers unflinching, but my heart hummed like a jackhammer as she stepped away from her chair, eyes wide, attention caught like she was a puppet and I was pulling her strings.

  It was all I could do to keep from gripping her, holding her against me as she stood in front of me, a goddess ready to be worshipped. “Lean on the table.”

  The mask dipped, and Ava’s gaze burned me as she glared, but I didn’t react, was too fucking drunk on how she looked moving as I commanded. The glare dropped from her expression when I reached for her, sliding the tips of my fingers against her back, my head tilting to the side, knowing she wanted me, betting she’d stop me.

  Praying she wouldn’t.

  Ava seemed as caught up in this spell as I was, compelled by whatever magic had drawn us together.

  “I want to control the woman I’m with because I want to make her feel good. It gets my dick hard to see a beautiful woman lose control because of how I touch her.” I slipped a hand lower, moving it along the back of her thigh, rubbing her over her skirt, over her round, perfect ass. “When you arch like this, and I slip my fingers inside you, I can touch you in a place that will make you come harder than you ever have before.”

  Ava blinked at me, distrustful, but she didn’t pull away when I stepped behind her, moving my hips against her ass, holding my arms over hers as she leaned forward.

  A slow tremble of movement quivered over her when I brushed aside her hair and let my mouth whisper against her ear. “I tell you what to do so that you weep with pleasure.”

  Ava closed her eyes for a second, then pretended she hadn’t, blinking away whatever it was— my words, my touch— that worked inside her.

  Her stomach was flat, clenched as I moved my hand around her waist, resting it just above her pussy. Heat warmed the tips of my fingers there through her skirt, but I didn’t touch her. Not yet.

  “I can make you wet, make you pant, remind you what it is to lose control and love the loss. But only if you let me. Only if you want it.”

  It would be good, us together. Hot and wet and it would go on forever. For a second, I indulged in the image of us, seeing it all play out before I straightened, sliding my hand against her stomach, to her hip, ready to step away from her. Then Ava grabbed my wrist and that thunder of movement in my chest stopped altogether as she brought my hands back to her warm pussy.

  Ava glanced over her shoulder, holding my attention, those beautiful blue eyes hungry, anxious as she trapped me where I stood. No breath moved in or out of my lungs as I waited for her to speak. When she did, I understood that she was strong enough to destroy me. She was the most dangerous woman I’d ever known.

  She could end me with one word.

  “Please.”

  It took control not to drop my shoulders or grin like an idiot. She gave me permission, an invitation to
something I’d waited a long damn time for, and she did it with a look, a plea and two soft syllables.

  “You want this? Now?”

  She curled her nails into my arm, keeping me close, and I fought the urge to dive at her mouth and take her right there on the floor.

  But I’d given her a visual, drawn an outline with a few slick descriptions. I had to finish what I’d started.

  She was strong, brave; that much I knew about her, but that didn’t mean me touching her, nuzzling at her neck didn’t have Ava’s body anxious and trembling again.

  “Tell me, darlin’.”

  “I…want this.” Her breathy tone held an edge to it, and I couldn’t tell if it was desperation or sheer lust.

  One nod, my gaze on her mouth, then to her eyes and I moved my chin, telling her to turn and face me without saying a thing. She complied, holding my stare as she moved, looking so unlike herself, timid, serious. She was fucking beautiful.

  The small sound she made when I pulled her forward was sharp, surprised but I muffled it with my mouth over hers, my fingers twisted in all that thick, red hair. Breasts rubbing against my chest, Ava melted against me, letting me lead the kiss, giving me back everything I put into it until she went boneless, breath hot and fast against my face.

  “Fucking hell.” Her lips were swollen now, pink and tempting, and I kissed her again, holding her up by one thigh as I walked her to the chair.

  “Dario…wait…I—”

  “You change your mind?”

  She waited, inhaling, arms still around my neck, her eyes wide and unblinking. “I haven’t, it’s just…” Shaking her head Ava’s face relaxed and a smile twisted her mouth up. “I’ve waited six years for that.” She rubbed her thumb against my lip, fingering the ring.

  “Worth the wait?”

  “Nah,” she said moving that sweet smile into a smirk.

  “Then let me try again.”

  This time the noise of surprise she made instantly turned into a moan when I took her mouth, holding her face still, demanding she give me everything, not asking for permission as I devoured her shaky breaths and quieted her low moans.