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“I’m scared that you’re caught up in the novelty, the excitement of a new relationship. I’m scared that you’ll miss the freedom that came with bachelorhood. I’m scared that when you find out everything there is to know about me, you won’t love it all.”
My throat tightens. I try to swallow it down, but it doesn’t go anywhere. I don’t think it will until I spit the words out. “I’m scared that you won’t love all of me, that I’m not…enough. I don’t know if I’m enough, Avery.” My nose tingles and when I blink, a lone tear rolls down each cheek. I try to look away, but his large hands hold my face, keeping our gazes locked.
“I hate that he hurt you like that. That he took everything that makes you who you are and convinced you it was anything other than beautiful.” He brushes the hair off my forehead, nothing but complete adoration and sincerity swimming in his deep brown gaze. “You can’t live your life being terrified that somebody won’t see you for just as beautiful as you are because one person made you feel anything less than. You are enough. So fucking enough, Claire.”
Avery’s mouth covers mine, tongue slipping in as our lips move together.
“All I want is to help you rediscover all the things you used to love about yourself, and to remind you just how lovable you are. Because you are, Claire. You’re mine, and I love you.”
***
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Claire
I’m having the very best dream. You know the kind, where you don’t want to wake up because there’s no way real life can be better than this.
In this dream, I wake up with Avery’s face between my thighs, his tongue lapping at my folds, teasing the tight bud of nerves at the top. His magical fingers, the ones I love more than life itself, trail up my belly, circling my taut nipples, making me arch and moan.
His wet lips press against the juncture of my thigh before vibrating against my center when he murmurs, “Morning, baby. It’s Friday.”
It sure as hell is. Even dream-Avery is current on the times.
We’ve spent every night together in our short week, as hard as I’ve tried not to. I mean, if I’m being honest, I haven’t put much effort into it at all. I’m not so secretly terrified that he’s going to get sick of me, but he sure does everything in his power to convince me he won’t.
I almost won once. Wednesday night. Charlee came over for dinner and drinks. Avery popped down with Sully on their way out to a walk and asked me to reconsider staying over. I stood my ground, which is pretty impressive when you have a six-foot-three wall of muscle ready to get on his knees and beg. Charlee snickered from the couch, throwing handfuls of popcorn into the air and catching, like, two out of twenty kernels, making a mess of my floor. Sully darted in and hoovered it up.
When I curled up under my blankets two hours later, half-drunk and frustrated with myself for making such a big deal about spending the night together, I shot him a bitter goodnight text. I’m proud to say I lasted all of five minutes before dragging my ass out of bed, stuffing my feet in my slippers, and wrapping myself in my blanket. I threw open the door, ready to trudge up to Avery’s with my tail between my legs, only to find him on the other side of my door, poised and ready to knock, Sully by his side. Avery grinned, I launched myself into his arms, and he carried me back to bed, whispering against my neck about how he couldn’t stay away.
A sharp gasp pierces the air as two fingers spear me. My body shoots up from my spot in bed, fully awake and fully aware that it’s not dream-Avery between my legs, but a very real Avery, in the flesh. Literally, in the flesh. He’s naked. Just the way I like him.
The grin he flashes me from his spot between my thighs is purely wolfish, brown eyes twinkling, lips glistening while he pumps his fingers in and out.
“There you are,” he murmurs, that sexy, husky morning voice thick with sleep, making my insides molten. His tongue flicks out over my tender clit, sucking it between his teeth, and I die on the inside.
“It’s Friday,” he repeats. “And you’re going to your dad’s for the weekend.”
I flash him a cheeky grin, extra toothy. How I manage it while he’s busy setting off fireworks between my legs is beyond me. “Gonna miss me?”
“Nah. I have no intention of missing you.”
Excuse me? Well, that’s that. I shove his head away and clamp my legs shut. His throaty chuckle tells me he’s amused. I’m not.
Fingertips digging into my hips, Avery crawls overtop of me. My eyelids hood with desire as his tongue drags slowly across his lips, tasting my arousal.
“I have no intention of missing you because I’m coming with you. I’ve been waiting all week for you to invite me, but you’re being stubborn, as per usual, and now it’s too late to wait any longer, so I’m inviting myself.”
My fingers sink into the hair at the nape of his neck. “And you think calling me stubborn is the way to get what you want?”
“Well, I’ve tried brain-melting orgasms all week long and that hasn’t worked, so…” His hips circle, rubbing against me, spreading my wetness.
“Oh, it’s worked exceptionally well for me.” I swallow a moan, back arching off the bed as he pushes inside me, inch by aching inch.
Looking down at me with that goofy, half-smile of his, Avery sets the pace, painfully slow, torturing me in a way that brings him too much pleasure. My hips lift to meet his thrusts, begging for more, for deeper, for faster.
“Avery, please. Fuck me.”
“I am fucking you, baby.”
