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She watches me, her gaze intensely focused on my eyes, waiting for an answer. It’s hard to watch her and not feel anything. I can’t begin to fathom the emotions bubbling up from inside me. I once thought she poked a hole in a dried-up river bed within me, but it was so much more than that.
She broke my walls and let the water from within the damn flow free. She saw the impending deluge and she didn’t run.
She’s still here.
She chose me.
“We don’t know that. There might be a place in the middle. There’s something we haven’t really done, and I’m not asking you again. Do you trust me?” Avery looms over me with those deep brown eyes, her lips pulling into a sexy smile. She shifts her weight and rubs against me, making me moan. The tension between us is growing larger by the moment.
I’d planned on taking her up here and kissing her--doing soft things that she enjoys--but I’m not sure what to make of this request. It reminds me of our time in the hospital, and I’m curious.
She sweeps her body over mine, barely touching, and whispers in my ear, “Trust me.”
Shivers erupt over my skin as her words consume me. The haunting way she says it, the way she changes her question to a command, undoes me. I relax into the bed and take a deep breath. Her eyes flick to my lips. When she looks up, she silently demands my answer.
I can barely breathe. The air is too hot and there’s not enough to fill my lungs. I hide what she does to me, as my mind insists on taking small breaths, not giving away how much I want her--how much I need to be inside her. I fight against mental restraints cultivated in a lifetime of pain.
I suck in a shaky breath as a tremor rips through me. “I trust you. Completely.”
CHAPTER 11
AVERY
I lean over him, waiting. I can see he’s fighting something in his mind. I don’t know what it is or why this is so hard for him. I wish I knew the exact reason and can only hope that one day, he’ll tell me.
I push the thought away. I don’t want to focus on tomorrow right now. I don’t want to think about what might happen to us if we fail. I know this may be the last time we’re together, and if things go to Hell--I know I won’t see him again. I know my fate. I have my plan B, which Mel grudgingly accepted and then helped me perfect. Either way, Vic Jr. isn’t going to live past tomorrow.
I don't have the same certainty--one way or the other--for Sean or for me.
I want this to be something we both enjoy--something that’s freeing, exhilarating, and perfect. Not because my hips are in perfect proportion to my ass, but because he loves me and I love him. I watch him shiver after he speaks and I can’t help but smile. He’s fighting the walls that normally come up now, when he’s most vulnerable. Which leaves me with a very raw version of Sean, one I’ve rarely seen. I trace the pads of my fingers along his cheek and then up into his hair, pushing it away from those crystal eyes.
“Let go. Release your thoughts.” I kiss his temple and lean back slightly, enough to see his face. “Let go of your fears. It’s just us. I won’t hurt you.” Leaning in, I kiss his other temple and hear his breath catch in his throat.
His voice is a whisper, “I know you won’t.” It seems like he wants to say more, but his jaw tenses and he stops speaking.
I place my fingers on his face and slide them over the stubble on his chin, and down his neck, across the soft spot on his throat, and down to his chest. My gaze follows my hand, except for the occasional glance at Sean’s face. I wish I could watch his eyes through this whole thing, but I want to focus on touching him as well. When I glance at him, his eyes are closed and his chin tips up. The muscles in his arms are corded tight like he’s trying to break free from invisible bindings.
Leaning in, I press my lips to his throat. Sean sucks in hard, one gasp. The warmth of my mouth feels good against his skin. I slide my lips down and kiss a lower place, the one right above his Adam's apple. I feel him swallow hard and take a short breath before I dip lower. His hands pull at the sheets and I know how intense this feels for him. It feels that way for me, too.
Sean Ferro has protected his life and his heart from everyone. He’s let me kiss the sides of his neck, but not here--not this soft spot that’s completely unguarded--and not his chest. It makes him feel vulnerable, something Sean can’t compartmentalize his way around.
But it’s different now. He allows me to kiss him, not hiding the effect I’m having. Normally he shuts that down, but not now.
I slip my lips to the soft spot at the base of his neck and slide my tongue along his skin. The motion makes him inhale, and his chest rises, pressing into mine. He holds onto the sheets tighter and presses his hips to mine, making it impossible not to feel how turned on he is. Sean’s eyes are shut tight, but his lips part and he moans my name, “Avery.”
I press another kiss to that sensitive spot, sending a shiver through his body. His hands dart up and take hold of my shoulders tightly. His eyes fly open and he’s panicked, staring at me, breathing like there’s not enough air for the two of us.
“Please…” he says the word and releases my arms, letting his hands drop to my hips. He holds onto my thighs tightly and pulls down, pressing my core against him.
“No.” I say the word gently. His blue gaze flicks up to my eyes and holds. He’s ready to run, I can see it on his face. This pushes him into a place he’s afraid to go.
I sit up completely, arching my back before pulling my shirt over my head. I toss it to the floor and unhook my bra. Pressing my lips together, I allow the fabric to dangle off my finger before dropping it on the bed. His eyes sweep over me, taking in my curves and fixating on the place where my bra had been. I smile down at him.
“It’s hard to be on the bottom. Isn’t it?” I wiggle my hips as I say it, making my horrible pun clear.
Sean barks an unexpected laugh. “Breaking the tension, are we?”
“Maybe. You look a little freaked.”
“Maybe I am.”
“Maybe I want you to be. Maybe we’re both control freaks, and maybe it’s nice to give someone else control once in a while.” He watches me for a moment, hesitant to agree.
“Nice isn’t a word that goes with sex. Nice is something that’s barely adequate. It’s not special. It’s not extrordinanary--it’s just nice.”
I roll my eyes and stand up on the bed, one foot on each side of his hips. I slip off my panties and kick them into the air. They hit the wall and fall down behind a dresser. I stay like that, laughing over him. “How’s the view from down there?”
Sean laughs--no, it’s more of a giggle--and grins widely.
“Nice.”
“If I couldn’t distinguish your sarcasm, Mr. Jones, that would have gotten you in trouble.”
“Oh, are you dishing out punishm
ents? Perhaps I should be a bit of an asshat, you know, just to see what you’ll do.”
The banter is light and flirty. I love it.
“Shut up, chatterbox.”
“You’ll have to make me, Miss Smith. There’s not much you can do that will render me speechless at this point, so...” Sean’s words die in his mouth as I step over his shoulders and sit down slowly, lowering myself onto his lips. I’m straddling his face, offering my most sensitive parts for him to devour. My heart is pounding as the initial contact changes to something more.
I hear him moan beneath me and then his lips part. His hands come up and brace my hips as his tongue sweeps between my seams. The movement is so sudden and so deep that I’m caught off guard. I lean forward and press my palms against the wall, bracing myself. The one kiss sends shockwaves through me that travel the entire length of my body.
This isn’t a starting point and I wasn’t really ready for it, but I wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. His tongue moves against me again, licking me as deeply as possible. I gasp and resist the urge to rock against him.
In a teasing voice I say, “You’ll have to do better than that, Mr. Jones, if you want me to--”
My words trail off abruptly as his tongue pushes inside me. Sean grips my hips harder and pulls me down on his face. I gasp and clutch the wall, trying not to melt and fall backward. Being upright makes everything feel different. My body is tingling and with every move of his lips against me, I want more. Moaning, I start to rock against him.
Sean encourages the movement. His mouth presses harder against me, making me want more. My breasts ache, wanting to be touched so badly that I hold them tight, continuing the slow build. Sean’s kisses are relentless, pressing deeper, flicking the right places, and making me cry out. I want to come against his mouth and can no longer control my hips. They want to buck against him, forcing him in deeper, feeling his kisses; his hot mouth against me is too much. Sean holds onto my hips and keeps me still. I can’t rock against him. I’m so close. His tongue is just below the spot that I need.
