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My eyes fall to the beautiful lace cups covering her beautiful boobs. “So we’re made for each other,” I declare, pulling them out of my way. Her breathing escalates, and I look up at her, desperate to ask if she’s ready to fight me onthis? I know it’s the only thing she won’t contest. Because, like me, when there is us, there is nothing else.
“Probably,” she whispers.
“There’s no ‘probably’ about it.” I curl an arm under her back and lift her, my mouth homing in on her neck, licking and biting, sucking and kissing. She sighs, the longest, most beautiful, contented sigh, as I lazily work my way up to her face, my tongue burning on the fire of her skin. My dick is crying. My heart singing. My skin blazing.
Fuck, woman, I’m mad for you.I need to be inside her, feeling her, kissing her, falling harder.
The office door swings open, and I flatten Ava against my chest, covering her. I turn my dazed eyes and find Sarah at the door, taking us in.What the actual fuck?
“Oh, sorry.” She’s not sorry at all. I can read her like a fucking book.
“For fuck’s sake, Sarah,” I grate, trying in vain to keep my anger locked down. “Knock!”
She isn’t fazed. Never is. “Finally got her in leather, then?” she snipes, and I gape at the door as she slams it behind her. What the fuck is it with everyone and their runaway gobs today?
“What did she mean?” Ava says, shifting in my hold, obviously uncomfortable now. I can’t blame her. So much for Sarah’s sincerity. I should have known. She’s a bitch, always has been, always will be. If I wasn’t so committed to my redemption, I’d kick her out on her arse.
“Nothing,” I grumble. “Ignore her, she’s trying to be funny.” Fucking hell, I just need to sit Ava down and confess.
I get her down from my desk, cover her boobs, fasten the buttons of her blouse, and remove the leather trousers. And the whole time, I’m speaking silent words of encouragement to myself. Where will I start? How will I explain? And, more importantly, how will she take it all?
I can feel her watching me as I dress her, and for the first time in the history of our relationship, I take no pleasure from her studying me. I leave her and retrieve her bag, getting her shoes and placing them at her feet.Start talking, Ward.And yet words fail me.
I round my desk and drop into the chair, my legs feeling unsteady. Have I ever been this afraid? Categorically, no. When I lost Jake, I wasn’t afraid, I was too shocked. When I lost Rosie, I wasn’t afraid, I was broken. When the knife pierced my abdomen, I wasn’t afraid, I was numb. After all, I deserved that and more.Fear has never featured in my existence, and now it is here with a vengeance. Fear I’ll lose like I’ve already lost. The darkness darkening. The pain intensifying. The guilt crippling.
I watch Ava intently as she tucks in her blouse, digging deep for some strength. “What?” she asks, her head tilting just a smidge.
“Nothing.” It’s out before I can stop it. That strength is nowhere to be found. “Are you hungry?”
“Ish,” she says on a cute jump of her shoulders.
I can’t help my smile, even if I’m feeling anything but happy right now. How can I ever be truly content when I’m deceiving her? “Ish,” I whisper in return, and she smiles lightly. My heart splinters. Not only do I need so desperately to avoid what might be the end for us, I need to avoid the pain I know I will cause her. Fuck, I’m in a mess, and I have no idea how to right it. Except to show her how much I love her. Will that redeem me? I can only hope because I have nothing else to offer her. Just me, as I am, and I am mad for her. “The steak’s good,” I say, clearing my clogging throat. “Do you want that?” She nods, and I call in the order. “Ava would like the steak.”
“Certainly,” Pete says. “How would she like it cooked?”
“How do you like your steak?”
“Medium, please.”
“Medium, with new potatoes and a salad.” She nods her confirmation, and I smile on the inside. I know her so well. “In my office... and bring some wine... Zinfandel. That’s all... yes... thank you.” I make a few more quick calls to John and Sarah before hanging up. Ava is still standing, and I frown, pointing at the couch. “Sit.”
“I can go if you’re busy.”
Go where, exactly? “No, sit.”
She settles, and I get on with what I was forced here to do. Except everything on my desk is everywhere, and as I glance across the surface, papers strewn as a result of Ava squirming across the wood, I sigh. This will delay things considerably. I spot a pile of bound papers still piled, albeit messily. There’s a Post-It note on top with John’s messy handwriting ordering me to read it and sign. I gather it up and flick through, making sure the pages are in order, every so often glancing up. Each time I do, she’s engrossed in whatever it is she’s doing. It’s quiet. Nice. Ava being here while I work is nice.
Pete arrives with Ava’s steak, and I point to the couch, my eyes landing on the bottle of wine. A whole bottle. I obviously wasn’t clear. I should have stated a glass rather thansomewine.
I leave Pete to serve Ava’s dinner, returning my attention to the surveillance contract and the proposed camera placements. All looks good. Timeframe? Great. Cost? Stupid but necessary. I grab a pen and scrawl across the final page before I stand and wander up behind Ava, smiling at the sounds she’s making.
“Good?” I ask, placing my chin on her shoulder, her hair tickling my face.
“Very.” She can hardly speak over her mouthful. “You want to try?”
I open my mouth in answer, and she shares, feeding me. If only she knew that it’s not just food she’s feeding me. “Hmmm, very good.”
“More?”
