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Chapter twenty-two
AVA
Iwakeuplate, in a great mood and thankfully without a hangover. Getting revenge on Stone and having an orgasm will do that to a girl. It’s transfusion day today, and I don’t even feel that drained, even if I did sleep quite late. Just goes to show how much better I’m doing with the regular visits. Normally by the time I got one I’d be dragging myself through life and no amount of sleep would make me feel refreshed. I get ready and pack a bag. Millie is still away, so Cole is taking me to the hospital and I’m staying with him after. There’s no real reason to not go home after—my mum’s not even here—except I don’t want Stone to get suspicious. He’s surprisingly astute, and for some reason, I don’t want him, Reid, or Mason to think I’m damaged goods. Thanks, Dad. I could go and hang with Carrie at my actual home, but a sleepover with Cole sounds fun too.
When I get downstairs, Reid is slumped over the island bar top while Mason cooks something that smells delicious. Ruffling Reid’s hair as I go past him, I say good morning to them both.
“What’s good about it?” Reid grumbles, and I chuckle, not dignifying his moaning with a reply.
“Breakfast, princess?” Mason checks his watch. “Well, lunch, I guess.” Maybe I’m not the only one who needed some extra hours in bed.
“I’m good, thanks. I’m going to head out.”
“Where are you off to?”
“I’m going to spend the night at Cole’s,” I say as I grab a drink from the fridge. They’re both staring at me when I close the door. “What?”
“Are you going to tell Stone?”
“Why would I do that? Where is he anyway?”
“He’s in the gym, shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“Perfect time for me to leave, then. Don’t want my good mood ruined.” Mason goes to say something else but I don’t want to hear it, especially as it looks like he’s disappointed about something. That must be for Stone, right? “Bye, guys.”
I grab my stuff and head to my car. It’s come back repaired perfectly after the last prank pulled on it, and I’m eager to get out of here without seeing Stone. You never know which Stone you’re going to get, and that unnerves me. What unnerves me more is that I don’t know which one I’m more reluctant to see. You have angry, downright fucking rude Stone, but I’m not so stupid that I don’t recognise how hot that guy gets me. Hate sex with him would be epic, I just know it. Even thinking of it gets me a bit flustered. And then you have the Stone who sneaks into my bed during a storm to help me sleep, who changes my curtains without being asked, who puts me in his clothes and strokes my thighs while offering truths I need to hear.
Okay, so that one gets me pretty hot too, but the whiplash from being yanked between the two is exhausting. Maybe if I had a clue what makes him switch it would make more sense, but it seems to be nothing I actively do. Even with our current peace treaty and last night, I’m not entirely sure how he’ll be now. And honestly, I’m feeling a lot more for him than I think is safe for my heart when we go back to school, so a little distance now won’t hurt.
The transfusion goes well, and my favourite nurse Sophie is there, so it’s even somewhat enjoyable. Normally it’s dull and I sleep through most of it, but I’m feeling okay today. I drove to Cole’s house first and he gave me a lift here, but the actual procedure takes hours, so I gave him an excuse to not wait with me at the hospital. He picks me up after to chill at his place for the evening. I’m not great company, though, falling asleep super early, and then the storm keeps me awake later on. The transfusion gives me more energy over an extended period of time, but I always crash right after, my body working overtime to accommodate it.
When I get home on Thursday, the guys are in the kitchen and Mason calls “hi” to me, so I divert from the stairs to see them.
“Hey, Aves, how was your night?”
“Not bad. How was yours?”
“We had to deal with pissy Stone all evening.”
“I wasn’t pissy,” the man himself says as he walks in glaring at Mason, but Mason smirks.
“You look tired,” Reid says to me.
“Charming. Everyone knows ‘you look tired’ is code for ‘you look like shit.’” I chuckle.
“Nah, you could never look like shit. Do you wanna chill with us?”
“Ava probably has some other dick to keep warm tonight,” Stone interrupts.
“Actually, I’m kind of worn out,” I say, yawning and leaning into a stretch that’s way overdramatic. Stone storms out onto the patio while Reid groans.
“Why have you got to wind him up?”
“Me?! He insinuates I’m a slut every waking second, but me playing into it isn’t allowed? How about not slut shaming?”
“Sorry, that was shitty of me,” Reid admits easily. “He’s constantly stressed because of Lewis.”
“I don’t see how that has anything to do with me.”
“Yeah, it’s a mystery,” Mason adds with a cocked brow, but I can’t be bothered to listen to their history of sibling rivalry. It’s irrelevant to me.
“Whatever. I’m going to get changed.”
There’s obviously some weird thing going on between Lewis and Stone, but why that gives him the excuse to be an asshole constantly, I don’t know. They really need to sort their shit out.
I get changed and throw an oversized T-shirt over my bikini to walk downstairs and join the guys on the loungers. They’ve left my favourite one empty, but unfortunately, Stone is on the one next to it. Or not unfortunately—he is definitely a sight to see. He takes up the whole length of the seat; tanned, sculpted muscles filling the whole space. I pop my dark sunglasses on and take my fill, unscrupulously checking him out. He really is gorgeous.
“That’s mine,” he says, and nods to me. It’s such a shame when he opens his mouth. I look down and notice I’ve put his T-shirt on, the same one I used as a coverup yesterday. Embarrassing. His lips turn up at the end in the barest of smirks, and it calls to the feisty side of me, the one that needs to win these constant battles between us.
I shrug. “Your stuff keeps getting returned with my washing. Carrie would never make that mistake.”
“Who’s Carrie?” Mason asks.
“Our housekeeper.”
“We do our own washing around here, princess.” I frown as he says that, wondering how mine is getting done, then. “Sorry to disappoint you, but we don’t all need staff to live.” I bristle, not insinuating that at all.
“Carrie was more than staff.”
“You miss her?” Reid asks.
“I guess. She was my only ally.” I don’t know why I keep telling them these little things about me. First the explanation of my fear yesterday, and now this. Stone is looking at me like he’s trying to figure me out, and I don’t like the scrutiny. I need to stop myself from being so vulnerable with them. It’s going to be a hard fall back to reality on Monday. Step one—stop wearing his bloody clothes, Ava.
Pushing my sunglasses onto the top of my head, I cock a brow at him before gripping the bottom of the shirt and pulling it up and over my head, slower than is necessary. Satisfaction and something a lot hotter fills me when I meet his eyes again and they’re molten, a gunmetal grey.
“All yours,” I say sweetly, throwing the shirt at him and taking my seat. Mason and Reid chuckle as I put my glasses back on and coat my legs in lotion. I definitely don’t tan as well as Stone does, but I can normally at least avoid any sunburn by putting lotion on. I spin on to my front and crane my neck to see past Stone, about to ask one of them to help me, when Stone sits up and spins so his feet are on the floor between our loungers.
“I’ll do it.” It seems petty to refuse when I was clearly about to ask the others, and I can’t exactly tell him I forget he’s such a dick when he touches me, so I reluctantly hand him the bottle and settle flat on the lounger. The second his hands are on me I get a billion degrees hotter, and it’s only sheer determination that stops me from fidgeting. He sweeps the stray hair off my shoulders and massages the lotion in, working his way down my back to the dip above my bum. His palm spans my whole waist, and I’ve never felt daintier in my life.
“So fucking perfect,” he says under his breath. His hands disappear from my skin, and just as I manage to swallow a whimper from the absence of him, they’re back on my thighs, stroking so high his fingertips graze my bikini bottoms. “You’re too good for him,” he mutters, and by the time I’ve registered what he’s said and spun my face to him, he’s sat back in his lounger, staring at the pool. Too good for him? For Cole? That’s ridiculous, because Cole is like eligible bachelor number one. Or maybe two, after Stone. Are they tied? Does it even matter when you’re talking about billions of dollars? I want to tell Stone we’re not together, that I haven’t touched Cole in that way once, but what would that do? Stone still decides he hates me the majority of the day anyway. I decide to ignore what he said, like he is, and spend the rest of the afternoon slightly on edge and more than slightly turned on.
As the sun starts to go down, I say bye to the guys and excuse myself to my room, stopping at the kitchen for a drink on the way. I feel him behind me when I’m looking in the fridge. His T-shirt comes back over my head, and he threads my arms through before pressing himself to my back. I’m surrounded by the smell of him, from both his T-shirt and his body, and it reminds me of all the mornings I woke up with the scent of him in the air. He uses one hand stroke my thigh where the T-shirt ends and the other to press me back into him by my stomach. Déjà vu strikes me like a lightning bolt, and I tense.
“It was you,” I say, the realisation hitting me. He doesn’t answer. “At the club.”
“Took you long enough,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the slope of my neck and disappearing. My back feels cold without him there, even though it’s warm in here, as usual. What the fuck? It was Stone at the club when Millie got sick? The one who made me feel safe and right and hot. And he’s known all this time? Is that why he’s so pissy, because I didn’t know? I didn’t even see him. I go upstairs to my room and stay there, my thoughts and emotions swirling. I’m getting confused with which parts of him I hate and which parts I don’t. Which part of him hates me, and which part doesn’t, and when.
Stone appears as soon as the rain starts.
“Don’t you normally wait for girls to be asleep before you creep in?”
“Just you,” he says casually, as he gets in facing me.
“Why? You hate me most of the time.”
“I don’t hate you. I hate the situation. I wish it was just us.” So we’ve got an honest Stone tonight.
“It’s just us now,” I say quietly. “Why are you here?”
“You don’t like storms.” I narrow my eyes at his excuse. “I don’t fucking know, okay? I shouldn’t be. Tell me to get out,” he says as he moves closer towards me, our eyes locked on each other. He runs a hand from my knee up my side and around my lower back, pulling me in so close I can feel his breath on my lips when he next speaks. “Tell me to stop.” But I don’t. I don’t think I could. Instead, I kiss him lightly, just a press of my lips to his, almost like a test. “Remind me you’re not mine,” he says, brow creased. I hate that he seems so tortured with this, and I don’t understand why. Right now I want to be his, but I can’t bring myself to say it out loud. Instead, I kiss him again, and this time he doesn’t let me pull away, wrapping his hand around the nape of my neck and deepening the kiss. God, he’s such a good kisser.
We lay there, facing each other and kissing with his hand moving into my hair. Just when I think I might combust, he rolls us so he’s leaning on one forearm above me. Running his free hand up underneath my top and over my ribs, I sigh into his mouth as he trails his fingertips over the swell of my breast. How he instinctively knows how sensitive I am there, I have no idea, but he drives me crazy, taking me higher and higher with the constant teasing of his gentle touch. I arch my back and press my chest into his hand.
“God, you’re so responsive,” he murmurs against my lips. “I bet you’re so wet right now.”
“Dare you to find out.” I sigh into his mouth, desperate for more—more of anything—and he groans before taking my mouth in another kiss. He strokes over my stomach and slides his hand into my sleep shorts, leaning his forehead on mine with a hushed “fuck” when he feels exactly how wet I am.
“I need to taste you,” he growls, and he disappears down the bed between my legs. I don’t even get a minute to centre myself before his tongue is right there, licking at my most sensitive area. He slides his tongue into me shallowly before moving back up and twirling around my clit. I start quivering almost immediately, the pleasure seeping out from where he’s working his magic. Just as I think I’m going to come way too quickly, he pulls away, stretching back out to loom over me. He kisses me, leaving the taste of myself on my lips, and I wrap my legs around him, not able to get close enough to him. I want him everywhere. Pulling at his sweats between us, his length springs out and I take it in my palm, making him hiss.
“Put me where you want me,” he commands, and I comply, directing the tip of his cock straight to my entrance. I need him inside me. He pushes in slowly, so fucking slowly, and I rock my hips eagerly to try and take more of him. Leaning on one forearm again, he stills my hips with a strong hand and continues the torturous speed. Once he’s seated fully I expect him to let loose, and the expectation is nearly killing me, but he rolls his hips so his pelvis grinds against my swollen clit. I gasp. Then he pulls out all the way before pushing all the way back in again, like we have all the time in the world.
“Stone, fuck. Speed up,” I moan, ready to beg him. This feels fucking amazing, but the anticipation is driving me crazy. I tug lightly where my hands are in his hair to drive my point home, but he pulls them away, pinning them above my head so I’m completely at his mercy. I reflexively clench around him.
“You don’t make the rules here,” he says in my ear before kissing the hollow of my throat and grinding against my clit again. I’m steadily climbing towards release, and as he pulls out and pushes back in again, the sensations grow.
“I’m going to come,” I say, almost as a warning, and he hums in appreciation as he grinds against my clit again, triggering the orgasm that’s been building since I saw the hunger in his eyes out by the pool. Light explodes behind my eyelids as I squeeze them shut, every muscle in my body tensing as pure pleasure lights up my every nerve. Fuck, that was intense. Before I can find the energy to open them again, Stone is letting my hands go, kissing the bend in my neck.
“Next time you keep your eyes on me.” Huh? I don’t register what he’s said before he’s spinning, still seated inside me, so that I’m straddling him while he lies on his back. He pushes my knees further apart and hits a spot so deep inside me I nearly convulse. Lifting me by the hips slightly, he pulls me back down onto him as he thrusts up into me, and a wholly indecent moan works its way out of my throat.
“Open, Ava,” he growls, and the command makes me tense around him. I’m not sure if my first orgasm is still lingering or if this is a new one barrelling towards me, but as I peel my eyes open and get hit with his dark molten-grey gaze, I feel it cresting. He pulls us apart before slamming up into me again and again. Placing my hands on his chest, I take over the movement with my own hips, lifting myself up and dropping back down when he thrusts up. His speed now is making up for the teasingly slow pace he set before, and my orgasm hits so quickly I’m not prepared. Somehow, I manage to keep my eyes open and on his as pure bliss floods my limbs again, and I clamp down around him, whispering his name. He gives one more shallow thrust deep inside me before following me over the edge with a groan.
