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We walk through the front door to my apartment and she immediately wraps her arms around my waist, pressing her cheek to my chest. I smooth my hand over her hair—fighting the comfort it gives me. I don’t want to feel anything for her. I don’t want to be soothed by her presence. I don’t want this to mean anything.
But it does.
Tonight—meeting her family and laughing over their jokes and stories—was a punch to the gut. I could sketch my own memories onto that scene—dinner with my mum and Marc, Lily popping in to visit with her hair in braids. The giggling, sneaking items off one another’s plates when Mum wasn’t looking. Hiding our peas under napkins.
I’ve lost that version of my family. Maybe that’s why being with Ava feels so good—it’s like reclaiming the part of my life I’ve been grieving for the past year. Several years, in fact.
You have to end it. You can’t drag her further into your shit, because you’ll only end up hurting her.
But when Ava lifts her head, her warm copper-flecked eyes wide and inviting, I’m obliterated. I lean forward, lips finding hers hot and open and willing. Maybe the physical might help me forget the emotional, might clear the slate for tomorrow so I can think about the path forward.
I’ve made no promises and neither has she.
“Come to bed with me,” she whispers against my lips, her hands fisting my shirt.
I can’t speak. There are no words left. So I take her hand and lead her upstairs, her curvy body like fire to my ice-weary heart. When we reach the loft, I kiss her senseless, letting my hands roam her body. The insistent press of her curves has me hard. Ready. Desire burns, slower than before. Slower than I’ve ever been used to. But it’s more insistent. Harder to ignore because it’s burrowing deep.
“I want you,” she whispers. “I want this.”
It feels like there are words missing, like she wants to say more. But neither of us can go there. That is a door we can’t open.
I draw her to the bed, placing her down gently. Buttons line the length of her dress and I take my time opening them, kissing her skin as I undress her. She sighs and hums. Her nipples press against her bra, little peaks demanding my attention, and when I suck one into my mouth, she arches against me.
“Yes,” she breathes.
My hands work faster, sloppily pushing the buttons open until I have her mostly bare. Cotton underwear covers her and when I press the heel of my palm between her legs, rubbing her in slow circles, I can feel how soaked they are. I need to have her. Now.
“You’ve been waiting for me.” I trace my finger along the edge of her underwear. Her eyes are blackened and wide, drinking me in. Urging me on. “Dirty girl.”
“Yes.” Her breath comes quicker, her eyes bright and wide and hungry. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
It’s like a punch to the gut. Knowing she was thinking about me—about this—waiting and waiting while her pussy got wet for me... Fuck.
You could have this forever.
No, I can’t. Because forever is a lie.
It’s the devil’s hand leading you down the wrong path. A path decorated with fantasies and wishes and desires all designed to trick you. What I feel for Ava might be real—terrifyingly real—but this life I’m being promised isn’t.
But I can’t take my eyes off her. The breath vanishes from my lungs as I part her thighs, spreading them wider and wider. I press my cheek to the inside of her leg and she makes a delightfulhmmsound. The gentle pressure of my fingers climbing higher up her thighs, the wet slide of my tongue following, draws a soft groan from her.
I press a kiss to her through the thin cotton underwear. I can make out the outline of her sex through the soaked material clinging to her.
“Please, Daniel.” She arches into me, hips rolling.
I’m not patient today and I have no strength for games. I tear the underwear from her, splitting the material and snapping the elastic with my hands, then I bury my face into her. Her orgasm rushes up, swift and brutal. She comes with a cry that’s so loud it feels as though it shakes the very foundations of the building.
On any other day I’d be itching to get inside her. I’d be spreading her sex and dragging my cock through her juices, ready to plunge into her. But in this moment, I want her to melt in my arms. I want to cherish her.
I crawl up beside her, wrapping Ava up and holding her close. Her lips find mine and we kiss, my tongue delving into her mouth and my fingers driving through her hair. We stay like this, connected and connecting. Together.
Tomorrow I have to end it.
Because this woman has the power to destroy me. She’s peeled back my layers, put thoughts into my head that have no business being there. She’s gotten under my skin, inside my heart.
I think I love her.
My body rejects the idea so brutally that my hands automatically clench, yanking on Ava’s hair so hard it makes her gasp. But the minx that she is, she doesn’t even miss a beat. She pushes me back against the bed and undoes my pants. I lift my hips so she can yank them and my underwear down, and then she’s on top of me. Her hair trails over her breasts and I sweep it back so I can see all of her. Every glorious inch.
