Ava cocks her brow. “The sofa or the patio,” she says, intuiting my thoughts. “The choice isyours.”
“I’ll take the sofa,” I mumble, amblingtowardsher.
Ava slants her head to the side and peers into my eyes, pretending she isn’t affected by my nakedness. I’m not buying it. I can see her internal battle in her readable eyes. She’s not the only one struggling. My eyes are fighting the same tortuous battle. But not wanting to risk the chance of sleeping in below freezing temperatures on her front patio, I keep my eyes planted on her face instead of her cock-twitching body.It is fuckinghardfeat.
“Why are you staying here anyway? What happened to your apartment?” I ask, curiosity in myvoice.
A winded grunt parts my lips when Ava shoves the bedding into my chest with force. Snarling, she storms into her room, slamming the doorbehindher.
Chapter Nine
Hugo
An inaudible groanrumbles up my chest as I reluctantly flutter my eyes open. The furious migraine pounding behind them worsens from the blindingly bright rays of the early morning sunshine beaming through the fully-opened living room drapes. I run the back of my hand over my tired eyes before sitting up. My back is kinked and screaming in protest about sleeping on a couch harder than a rock. My eyes drift around the room, seeking the grandfather clock I heard ticking all night long.What the hell. It’s not even 7 AM.I know I told Ava I'd be out of her hair before she woke up, but she failed to mention she gets up before the birds. She’s been bashing and crashing in the kitchen for the past forty-five minutes. I did my best to ignore the noise, yearning for a few more hours of sleep, but the longer I’ve stayed sprawled on the couch, the louder the noises emerging from the kitchenbecome.
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I stagger towards the kitchen. My stomach grumbles when a delicious aroma fills my senses. I’ve only smelled one thing sweeter in my life:Ava. My eyes bug out of my head when an even more ravishing visual greets me. The heaviness weighing down my eyelids is a forgotten memory as my eyes absorb every scandalous inch of Ava’s body. She is wearing an old faded Columbus State University shirt, and her hair has been pulled up, sitting in a messy bun on top of her head, exposing her long, delicate neck. I angle my head to the side and dip it down low. My brow cocks. She is wearing pants – barely!But you wouldn’t know it. Her teeny tiny pair of denim shorts would be best described aspanties.
I prop my shoulder on the doorjamb and let my eyes drink her in. It’s been years since they’ve been enticed by such a stimulating visual. “How Does It Feel” by D’Angelo is playing out of a little speaker sitting on the small two-seater table at the side of the room. Ava has her back to me, facing the upright oven. She has a spatula in one hand and a tea towel in the other. When the song hits the chorus, her hips swing, naturally seducing me without even trying. My cock jumps when she grips the edge of the counter before slowly bobbing down and doing a seductive twerk.Only Ava could make twerking look sexy. Even spotting a massive pile of pancakes resting on the counter, I can’t tear my eyes away from the sexy curves of Ava’s ass peeking out of her tiny pair of short as she dances with such ease and grace. Ava’s always been innately sexy.Nothing’schanged.
Scraping my hand along my unshaven jaw, a shameful groan tears from my throat when the visual becomes too enticing not to spark a reaction from me. Hearing my shameful response to her seductive dance moves, Ava straightens her spine and spins on her heels. A massive grin stretches across her face as her eyes run the length of my covered body. Not wanting another naked incident, I slept in my jeans and long-sleeve shirt, further hindering my ability tosleep.
When Ava’s eyes return to my face, I chew on the corner of my lip. Her nipples are budded against her shirt; her eyes are wide and exposed, and there is no denying the spark blazing in her beautiful eyes. Ava is famished and it isn’t a hungerforfood.
“How did you sleep?” she queries, her throat ahuskypurr.
“Good.”I spent the entire night dreaming ofyou. “You?”
She shrugs. “Could’ve beenbetter.”
When she prances towards the fridge, swings open the door and dips her lower half inside, my heart rate kicks up a notch.Ava and I have many fond memories in fridges.I lick my dry lips when she emerges from the fridge holding a can of whipped cream. Keeping her eyes locked on me, she walks to the massive stack of freshly prepared blueberry pancakes on herright.
“Cream or syrup?” she asks, her voice dripping with sexiness, like hot lava erupting from avolcano.
“Syrup,” I answer, my voice throaty as I struggle to keep arationalhead.
Ava places the whipped cream onto the counter and opens the cupboard above her head. My cock, now hard, strains against the zipper of my jeans when she stands on her tippy toes, struggling to reach the maple syrup sitting on the top shelf. I push off the counter, walk towards her and arch over her back. I easily reach the syrup, but take my time, pretending I can’t quite reach it so I can relish in her closeness for a few seconds longer. My nostrils flare when her sweet smell engulfs the airsurroundingme.
“Thank you,” she says when I hand her the syrup, her voice as sweet as herscent.
She slips under my arm and walks to the other side of the kitchen, taking the stack of pancakes with her. Even with her standing at the other side of the room, the kitchen is so small in size, we are still close enough to feel the sexual energy zapping between us. It is electrifying and has my cockhardeningmore.
Ava slathers the pancakes with syrup, ensuring every inch is covered in the sugary goodness I love. A provocative moan tumbles out of her lips when she pops her thumb into her mouth and licks a smidgen of syrup off the tip. The hardness of my cock turns lethal.I’ve never been so hard. Nothing’s changed.Not a single fucking thing.It wouldn’t matter if a year had passed or a hundred, Ava’s always going to be the only girl who can knock me onto my ass. Although, I'll admit, I'm surprised by the quick change in Ava’s behavior overnight, but I’m loving her new-foundplayfulness.
“Hungry?” she queries, her tone laced with sexualundertone.
“Fuck, yes.”Foryou.
My eyes drift between the stack of pancakes balancing precariously in her hand and her soft pouty lips.I know which one I want to tastefirst.
My eyes rocket to hers when she asks, “What do you want to taste first?” like she can read my internaldialogue.
“I have a choice?” I ask, my toneelevated.
Ava bites on the corner of her lower lip and nods her head as she continues to pacetowardsme.
“You,” I reply withouthesitation.
Her eyes spark with fervor, and a smile curls onherlips.
