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“I can’t leave you here on your own.”
“I’m with your father.”
“And you’ve got your hands full.” He nods at the open double doorway.
Ava’s standing behind Grayson with a tray of drinks in her hand. Her mouth tips up softly, and my world pauses, tilting on its axis.
“Go on…” Mom presses a kiss to my cheek. “I’ll call you if anything changes. But we’re good here.”
Fran and I trudge out of the room, and as we’re about to disappear, Mom calls, “I love you. Both of you.”
“Love you too.” Fran blows her a kiss.
Always the kiss-ass.
Grayson takes the drinks from Ava, taking them to Mom, and a quiet second with her is all I need to relax.
“He’s okay,” I breathe the minute Ava wraps her arms around my waist.
“Good.” She presses a kiss to the top of my chest. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” My heart finally begins to settle, but I keep holding on to her. “Thank you for being here.”
Ava smiles in response, looking up at me with heavy-lidded doe eyes that are all affection and speak of so many feelings. Too many feelings that are impossible to hide.
And I could love her. Maybe. Probably…
“You want to show me your room?” she trills, her head tipped back, and azure eyes creased with affection.
…Definitely.
Chapter 17
Ava
Damon drops our bags on the floor by his bedroom door. Taking my heels from me, he throws them beside our things, followed by his jacket and then mine. His boots join the pile, and before I get a good look around the moonlit room, his hands are cupping my jaw, drawing me into his body.
“My beautiful Ava…” I swallow at the low rumble of my name from his lips. “Little mouse…”
The pounding of my heart blurs my vision, and my breathless pants burn my lungs.
“Thank you,” he whispers into my slightly gaping mouth.
I touch my fingertip to the light freckle just visible above the stubble running along his top lip. “Stop thanking me.”
I didn’t do anything except accompany him. There wasn’t anything for me to do, so I don’t get why he’s so thankful. I did nothing.
Damon lowers himself to my height, his eyes meeting mine. In the silver light of the moon, they look a relucent charcoal gray. So intense and magnetic. In spite of all he does, I don’t think he knows how powerful he is. Because with one look he can change everything I’ve ever wanted.
His mouth lowers to my lips, skimming over them until they trail up my jaw, depositing kiss after kiss after kiss punctuated by his hums and groans and sharp inhales. The higher his lips roam—over my ear to my temple, tracing my hairline until they stop with a hard press to my forehead—the taller he stands over me.
With my head tilted back, he pulls my messy knot loose, running his fingers through it and working out the tangles with gentle tugs that send frissons of need to my core, until I’m molten desire in his hands.
Grabbing my ass, he hoists me up his body so that my feet hook over the curve of his ass. My hands fist the open collar of his shirt, pulling him to me as I take his lips with mine. His tongue pushes into my mouth, and God, he tastes so damn good. He’s all sensual masculinity and overwhelming need. Strong and overpowering, gentle and caring all the same.
Trailing kisses down my neck, he sits me on the edge of the bed, slipping to the plush carpet on his knees. When he’s kneeling between my legs, Damon unbuttons my shirt—button by button, slow and quiet. Igniting an echoing ache in every pore until every limb is so heavy with want for him that I can barely sit upright.
My hands coil around the comforter as Damon slips the shirt over my shoulders. His face nuzzles into the crease of my breasts while he pulls at the cups of my bra, his tongue tracing the engorged curves, thumbs rounding my tightly furled nipples until I’m squirming on the bed, incapable of catching my breath.
