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I could come from the way this man is kissing me.
When he pulls back, I whimper again, but this time, it’s from a feeling of loss.
“Ava,” he says my name in a breathless rush. “What the fuck?”
I smile against his mouth. “What the fuck is right.”
He hisses in a breath. “That was something.”
“It was,” I agree, wishing he’d kiss me again.
It’s all I want at this moment.
But it’s not what he wants. “I’m sorry, Ava.”
That sends me back a step so I can look into his eyes. “You’re sorry? For what?”
His right hand jumps to his hair to rake through it. “That. This. What I feel.”
My heart does a little flip in my chest at that last admission. “What do you feel?”
He drops his gaze down, and mine trails behind, stopping at the noticeable bulge in his pants. He lets out a heavy exhale. “I’m sorry.”
My heart takes it to another level when I feel as though it’s about to break through my chest wall. He wants me just as much as I want him. That’s blatantly obvious.
“Please, stop saying sorry,” I whisper. Trying to catch my breath, I go on, “I wanted to kiss you, Harry. I want…”
“We can’t,” he cuts me off with a terse shake of his head. “I can’t, Ava.”
I ignore all of that because it’s tied into his relationship with my brother. I don’t care about that right now. I care about what just happened between us.
“What do you feel?” I press him to tell me.
He shoots me a look that says it all. There’s desire swimming in his eyes. His jaw is tense, and his fists are clutched tight against his body. He’s doing everything in his power not to reach out and touch me again.
“I’m too old for you,” he tosses out that as an excuse.
“I’ve been with men older than you,” I counter.
His gaze turns dark. “What? How old?”
“Does it matter?” I ask to avoid telling him that I slept with a guy a decade older than me, but his experience level didn’t reflect that.
He lasted slightly longer than zero did, but the thirty seconds he did invest in our fucking, was enough for him to get off. For me, it was enough to push him off me and send him out of my life forever.
“I’m not innocent,” I go on. “I’ve had sex, Harry. I’ve had lovers, as in plural.”
“Stop,” he snaps. “We’re not talking about this.”
“You’d rather talk about the reasons why we can’t be honest about how we feel?” I tilt my chin up. “You’re an adult. I’m an adult. I happen to believe that two consenting adults can have a mature discussion about sex. Before, during, and after it happens.”
His hand darts to his forehead as he drops his gaze to the sidewalk. “We can’t have this discussion, Ava.”
“Why not?” I push, not caring that people are passing us by.
None of them seem to notice that we’re embroiled in a discussion about sex, but this is Manhattan, and it’s not uncommon to overhear bits and pieces of intimate conversations between strangers as you make your way down the sidewalk.
“I’m taking you home.” He pulls that out of his bag of lame tricks. “Let’s go.”
“No.” I shift my feet slightly, widening my stance to demonstrate that I’m standing my ground. “We haven’t finished this conversation.”
“We have,” he says. “It’s time to go home, Ava.”
Exasperated, I spit out the name of the person standing between us even though he’s likely fast asleep next to his fiancée at this moment. “Sean. That’s what all of this is about, right? You’re worried about Sean.”
“If he knew I kissed you, he’d kill me, Ava.”
“He wouldn’t kill you.” I rub the back of my neck. “How would he ever know it happened? I choose who I kiss and fuck. I don’t report that to my brother.”
Frustrated, I glance toward the street.
“Ava.” My name is softer now as it falls from his lips. “You’re incredible, but I can’t. I just can’t.”
I step back because I will never beg a man for attention. Ever.
His loyalty is to Sean, and I won’t trample over that because I want another taste of him.
“Understood,” I say.
His gaze sticks to my lips. “I’m sorry.”
Shaking my head, I look beyond his shoulder to an approaching taxi. “There’s no reason to be sorry. I know how much your friendship with Sean means to both of you.”
“I’ll take you home now.” He motions toward the corner.
“That’s okay.” I move around him to wave to the oncoming taxi driver. “I’m grabbing a cab.”
Harry steps off to open the back passenger door for me as the cab stops next to the curb.
“Thank you,” I whisper before sliding inside. “Get home safely.”
His response is a slight nod before he shuts the door.
I tell the driver where I’m headed, and as he steers the car away from the curb, I take one last look at the man who kissed me breathless.
