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Chapter thirty-seven
STONE
I’mangryatthe world right now. Angry at Ava for keeping me distant and keeping secrets about her own fucking health. Angry at myself for giving her reason to push me away. Angry at Lewis. Angry at whoever put their fucking hands on my girl.
Ava heads upstairs as soon as we’re back, and when I go to see if she’s tired, she’s already crashed on top of her bed, still in her uniform. I gently slip her shoes off and sit with her, putting a film on her TV because I will happily be wherever she is, especially when she’s not shouting. When she wakes, I ask if she’s hungry and she nods sleepily at me, so I go down and grab our dinner, taking it back upstairs so we can eat on her bed.
“This is weirdly civil,” she says as I pass her hers.
“Would you rather we were yelling or fucking instead? I could go for one of them,” I offer, but she scoffs and we finish our food in silence, the only noise being the TV in the background.
“I’m going for a shower,” she tells me once we’ve finished. “Feel free to be gone by the time I’m done.” She takes her pyjamas into the bathroom with her, though, so I think we both know where I’ll be. I head to my own room to shower, the urge to join her ridiculously strong, and change into sweats before getting back into her bed. She’s still in her shower, which is absolute torture, because by the time it shuts off I’m hard as a rock from listening to the water and picturing her body all wet and smooth under the spray. I rearrange myself as best as possible just as she comes out, her hair still wet, and climbs onto the bed. “I’m too tired to argue with you,” she offers as a feeble excuse.
“Let me dry your hair before you sleep.” She frowns over at me, not answering, so I pat the end of the bed, plugging in the hairdryer that was sitting on her bedside table. She crawls over and I sit next to her before pulling her into my lap and combing her hair through. Her body is soft and pliant, and I assume it’s the fatigue that’s making her like this, as much as I’d like to pretend she’s suddenly this at ease with me.
“Sophie wouldn’t tell me what was happening today.” Ava stiffens in my lap as I switch the comb for the dryer. “Is it a secret?” She shrugs and I don’t think she’s going to answer, but as I turn the hairdryer to low, she does.
“Who wants everyone to know they’re damaged goods?”
Keeping the dryer on but pointed away, I wrap an arm around her middle and kiss the back of her shoulder. “You’re fucking perfect. I’m sure I’ve told you that before.”
“Maybe once or twice,” she jokes, and she relaxes again as I dry her hair. I give it one last brush through once it’s done, and she’s practically melted into me. I’m tempted to carry on, loving the feel of her this close to me, but I know she’s exhausted and needs some proper sleep.
“All done.” She crawls out of my lap and gets under the covers while I put her dryer away and then get in next to her.
“You seem like you’ve done this before.”
“I used to dry my mum’s hair for her before she’d go out.”
“Oh. You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” I explain. “It kind of explains why I wasn’t acting like myself before. That’s my fuck up. It’s a story, though. Are you too tired?”
“Never.”
I take a breath before diving into our sordid history. “My mum married my dad for money. Nowhere near the level of money we have now, but Dad’s company was doing well. He had a son already and wasn’t looking to settle down, but she must’ve seen how determined and hardworking he was and leapt at the chance. Nine months after they first met, I was born, and Dad ‘did the right thing’ by marrying her. But you always know someone more successful, right? It’s very rare you’re the richest person in the room, and Dad definitely wasn’t. She happily walked away from us—from me—when a bigger paycheck came up, with Dad’s now ex-business partner. She wasn’t maternal anyway. The only memories I have of her are of begging to do her hair when she was getting ready to go out. It was the only time we spent together.
Anyway, we didn’t see her for years, and then she came crawling back when Dad hit the big time. She was awful, happy to manipulate me to try and get Dad back. God, the mind games that she would play, not caring who she stepped on on the way or how many promises her idiot son bought into only to be dropped again the second it was clear Dad wasn’t taking her back. Now she’s shacked up with someone a mile down the road who’s on his last legs and about to leave her everything, while she pretends I don’t exist.”
“I’m so sorry,” she breathes, genuine sorrow in her voice.
“You are the last person who needs to be sorry. I let it fuck me up, dictate how I acted. My feelings were only so extreme because I knew it as soon as I saw you—you were meant to be mine. But I hated that I was falling for tricks so similar to my mother’s, and that I couldn’t seem to care, couldn’t seem to stop. I’ll wait for however long it takes for you to realise that the Stone I am when we’re alone is the Stone I will always be for you now.” Her brow furrows and I smooth it out with my thumb before stroking the hair away from her face. Her eyes slip closed as she speaks.
“Even the Stone you are when it’s just us can be two different people.”
“I know. And they’re both me. Angry, possessive, forceful. Gentle, open. It’s who I am. Do you hate either of those sides?”
She’s quiet and doesn’t answer, which I prefer to her saying yes, because both of those sides live within me. She brings my temper out when she challenges me, but I think I love her. I’ll tell her my deepest secrets and cuss her out when she defies me. That won’t change. What I won’t do, and shouldn’t have done, is hurt her, myself or through others. Never again.
It’s Friday night, and Reid and Mason are round before we head out when Ava comes in, definitely not dressed for a party.
“Aren’t you coming, Aves?”
“Yes, she is,” I tell him, but she acts like I haven’t spoken.
“I think I’m gonna chill with Cole.”
“If you don’t turn up to that party, I will come and get you and take you there in whatever you’re wearing.” I can feel the glare she’s giving to the side of my face, but I don’t care. I’m letting her make her own way there with her friend. That’s compromise. She leaves in a huff, and we don’t see her again before we leave.
Two hours later, I’m staring at the doorway, tense from the minute we sit down. People keep trying to talk to me, but it’s pretty clear I’m not in the mood. Will she turn up, or will she defy me again? I can’t relax not knowing where she is or if she’s okay. I need to see her with my own eyes. I’m about to give up and go get her myself when she saunters through the doorway with Cole as if she hasn’t got my whole fucking heart in her hands. I release a huge breath of relief that she’s here and okay until my eyes run down her and I see what she’s wearing. I need her to come to me. The only way other people are seeing her in that is if she’s glued to my lap so they know exactly who she belongs to. I watch her and Cole head to the makeshift bar, and my anger grows as I watch every other guy here watch her too. I don’t blame them; she looks fucking stunning. My dick is already showing interest, and I’ve only seen her from across the room. She’s in a black sleeveless minidress that is laced up on both sides, showing a whole lot of skin and a whole lot of her legs, which look even longer with black fuck-me heels. Cole hands her a beer and she smiles at him, taking a sip, before looking around the room.
Her eyes land on me instantly, as if she knew where I was the whole time, or maybe she can feel my gaze on her. She doesn’t head over to me, though, so I raise an eyebrow at her in question. She lazily raises one back at me. Maybe she doesn’t quite know what “mine” means, so I make it clear, pointing a finger to my lap, where she should be right now. Her eyes harden and she raises a finger of her own, flipping me off across the room before turning her back on me to face Cole. Fuck, this girl has some balls. My dick is getting hard from her defiance. Standing from my seat, she doesn’t turn back once while I head towards her, grabbing her wrist as I pass and dragging her with me.
“Hey!” she calls, digging her heels in as we get to the hallway, so I turn and grasp her throat with my other hand.
“I’d put you over my shoulder if you weren’t in that tiny fucking dress.”
“Leave my dress alone.”
“Trust me, I have nothing bad to say about it, but I need to be under it and I won’t do that where any other fucker can see.” She’s quiet for once, and I take my chance, pulling her the rest of the way to a bathroom. I drag her in after me and lock the door, sitting her on the counter and stepping between her legs. She hisses as the back of her legs hits the cold bench. She pushes at my chest, so I hold one hand down on each side of her thighs on the countertop, running my nose up the side of her neck and down again before I press a gentle kiss to the bend.
“Stone,” she says, part warning and part lust.
“Don’t even start, Ava. Clearly you don’t know what ‘mine’ means, so I’m showing you.”
“I’m not yours.” She gasps as I pull her off the bench, standing her up and flipping her round. I pin her to my chest so we can both look in the mirror.
“No?” I ask casually as I pull her dress up so it sits bunched up on her hips. I reach down and cup her bare mound in my hand, feeling the heat against my palm. “You look mine right now.”
We’re both looking in the mirror, watching her standing in front of me, arms pinned to her sides by mine that wrap around her, one hand over her pussy. Her eyes are still defiant, but there’s no denying how much she wants this as her arousal coats my gently stroking hand. “Mine, and yet you fought me on the party.” I slowly twirl my middle finger around her entrance, and she moans in her throat, not letting it out. “Then you turn up looking like fucking sin with another guy and no underwear.” I move the heel of my hand so it’s putting pressure on her clit but with no movement at all. She tries to rock her hips but is stilled by my arms banded around her hips. “And you still refuse to show everyone here that you are, in fact, mine.” Curling my middle finger, I press it into her until only the tip breaches her entrance, and she growls in frustration.
“Look,” I say as I tip her chin up so she’s facing the mirror. “Watch how desperate your body is for me.” As she goes to no doubt dispute that, I slide my finger all the way into her and her head falls back. “Look, Ava,” I command, and she opens her eyes, looking down in our reflection to watch where my hand is between her thighs. I pull my finger out, using two to rub over her clit and along her seam, sinking into her and back again, repeating the process over and over as her body sways and her stomach tenses under my arm. Fuck, she looks incredible. Just when she feels like she’s building, I withdraw my fingers completely and suck them into my mouth, licking the remnants of her arousal off them and keeping eye contact the whole time. Then I pull her dress back down.
“Stone, what the fuck?” she asks breathily, spinning round to face me, her face flushed.
“You don’t get to come until you admit that you’re mine, remember?” Her mouth pops open, but it’s not long before she’s regained her bearings and is glaring daggers at me. She scoffs.
“As if I need you to do that for me.” I don’t know if she’s insinuating she’d finish herself off or she’d find someone else, but both ideas are ridiculous. I pin her to the counter behind her with my hips so she can feel just how fucking hard I am, tipping her head to look up at me with my hand wrapped around her throat. There’s a knock on the door, but we ignore it.
“This pussy is mine. The only person making you come from now on is me.”
“Then fucking do it,” she says, snaking her hand between us and squeezing my dick. Even with my trousers between us, I still pulse in her hand. How does she do this to me? I lose all control around her. The door knocks again before I can cave, and Mason’s voice comes through the wood.
“Sorry, Stone. Dane’s here.” Ava’s whole body tenses at his words, her hand dropping from me. Her chest heaves as she takes quick breaths, trying to step back, push me away from her. Her eyes lose every speck of determination, lust, and fight that was swimming in the deep green depths, only to be replaced by fear. What the fuck? She didn’t have that reaction to him in her car when he was spilling the secrets of the bet. There’s only one time I’ve seen her eyes so lost, so afraid. I pull the door slightly open behind me while Ava is hidden by my body, clutching her to me.
“Go and get Cole,” I grit out, struggling to keep a lid on my anger while Ava is still here. I can’t take my eyes off Ava to check, but there’s silence behind me, so I assume Mason has gone. I close the door.
“Stone—”
“I want you to go straight home with Cole, okay?”
She looks up at me and I cup her jaw, stroking her cheek with my thumb, trying to convey everything I want to say to her by touch because I don’t trust myself to speak right now. My muscles are buzzing with tension, but I keep my hand on her gentle. She doesn’t ask any questions, doesn’t protest at me telling her what to do. She just stares up at me as if I can take all her problems away from her, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. Lowering my lips to hers, I kiss her softly, wanting to show how I’ll care for her for the rest of my life. We can be rough as she likes during sex, and I’ll be bossy and controlling to ensure she’s mine and protected, but I’ll always be gentle when it comes to taking care of her. She is mine, and I keep what’s mine safe. Another knock on the door comes, and I reluctantly let Ava go, holding her hand in mine while I open the door. Reid, Mason, and Cole are all standing there with confused expressions.
“Is everything okay?” Cole asks, checking Ava over.
“I need you to take Ava home. Straight home.”
“Of course. Come on, Aves.” I pass her hand to Cole and he takes it. If she cares about being treated like cargo, she doesn’t say anything, giving Reid and Mason a small smile as Cole leads her away.
“What’s going on?” Reid asks once we’ve watched them leave in Cole’s car.
“It was Dane.” Recognition dawns on their faces, quickly replaced with anger. Mason’s the first to speak.
“They’re in the garden.”
