Chapter Twenty-Four #2
"So tight for me, fuck… Take me, Magpie.
Just like that." I'm grunting like a madman, we're sweating, her hands slip against my skin as she tries to grip my shoulders.
Scooping my arms under her thighs, I lift her hips, thrusting harder as her midnight eyes darken, her breasts bouncing madly.
"I'll keep you safe. I'll stay fucking buried inside you every second if that's what it takes. "
"That's gonna make riding the subway really awkward," she manages to gasp out and we both laugh.
Sex with Ava is different; I've never laughed so much with a woman, much less while I'm inside her.
Then, that perfect moment when I feel her slick cunt tighten down on me as I surge into her hard and we come together, shuddering, her sharp little teeth biting my shoulder to muffle her scream.
My mother's face is carefully expressionless as she thanks Ava for her work and walks us to the exit, but the faces of her nursing staff are varying shades of red to nearly purple, trying to stifle their laughter.
Biting down on my shoulder like a little badger wasn't enough to keep Ava quiet, but I'll enjoy the bruises shaped by her teeth as a well-earned battle wound.
***
"I can hear you thinking from all the way in here," I call from the bathroom. Ava is flat on her back on our bed, staring up at the ceiling. She hasn't moved since our second round of what she called, "Thank god you're alive" sex. We managed to hold off until we made it back to the penthouse.
"I'm trying to remember my famous cheesecake recipe," she calls back. "I haven't made it for a while, so I'm making a list of all the ingredients I need."
I walk into the bedroom, drying my hands. "Is there a specific reason you're intent on making cheesecake?"
Sitting up with a groan, she points her finger at me. "Not just cheesecake. It's a white chocolate cheesecake with a blueberry glacé garnished with fresh strawberries and blueberries. My brother used to cry like a baby when I'd make it for his birthday."
"Are you two close?" Her smile disappears. I already know the answer from the background report Kolya compiled for me. She hasn't spoken to anyone in her family for over two years. Her mother and she exchange cards at Christmas
"Not so much now," she says, looking down at her phone.
"My family is involved in what I call a cult and they call a 'deeply committed Christian experience.
' They weren't happy when I chose to go to medical school out of state and then were done with me after I chose to practice here instead of coming home and 'serving the community,' as my father said.
" She gives a humorless chuckle. "I'm not going to judge them for the life they've chosen, even if they've judged mine. "
Getting out of bed, she hurriedly dresses when she sees me dropping my towel, my cock thickening. "I didn't know baking talk turned you on. I'm going to see if one of your bodyguards can take me shopping since both of mine have bullet holes."
"Because both of your bodyguards have bullet holes," I retort, "it should seem logical that we order the groceries in, rather than putting you in danger to hand select your strawberries. And everything about you turns me on."
She pretends to glare at me with a muttered, "Fine."
In the kitchen, I open cabinet doors for her and bring down items from above her reach, which is nearly everything. Maybe I should have one of our finish carpenters create a step running along all the cabinet space to give her a boost. I find myself liking the permanence of that.
I know she is as shaken by the day's violence as I am because for the rest of the night, we kiss constantly, she touches me every time she passes by a light stroke of her fingers against my arm, or her hand on my back as she reaches up for a baking pan.
When the ingredients are delivered, I unpack them for her and rinse off the berries.
"Do you do a lot of baking?" she asks, "Because I know pastry chefs that would give you their kidney for a crack at this kitchen."
"No," I shrug. "I just ordered the kitchen to be fully stocked when my designer finished the penthouse for me. You've already seen the full range of my cooking abilities."
"I'm not in a position to judge," she says dryly, garnishing the cheesecake with the berries and cutting me a slice. "You already know you didn't invite Giada De Laurentiis as a house guest."
"Your baking skills should be Michelin-starred," I say, pointing a fork at her.
"This cheesecake is sublime." And it is, the crisp layers of the white chocolate melt into the creamy cheesecake and the bite of the blueberries is a perfect tart edge.
"Who's the second one for?" I ask, eyeing the other cheesecake cooling on the rack.
"Don't you get any ideas, Mister," she says sternly. "That's for Gordi."
"Gordi? You're taking cheesecake to Gordi, the sandwich guy?"
"Why not?" She's a bit defensive. "Everybody in New York likes cheesecake. I know it's not much, but I wanted to thank him for saving our lives yesterday. The man is my hero and if I had a million dollars I would give it to him."
I don't tell her that I'm planning to do more than that for our mutually favorite sandwich maker, but the next morning, I accompany her to Gordi's shop. We slip into the store before it opens, Ava nervously holding the cheesecake box aloft like a chalice.
"What are you two doing here?" Gordi asks, his eyes darting nervously towards the basement door.
"Ava worked all night to make something special for you," I say, guiding her toward the front of the store and out of the kitchen.
"I didn't work all night Gordi," she says. "I wanted to say thank you. There's no way I can truly thank you for what you did for us yesterday. You came across the shop like an avenging angel and…" She awkwardly holds out the box. "Anyway, this is the one good dessert I know how to make."
He opens the box and looks inside. "You made me cheesecake?" Gordi's eyes look suspiciously moist, but we both pretend not to notice. "I haven't had cheesecake since my ma made it for me. She'd make one every year for Christmas before she passed on in 2022."
"Oh man, Gordi." Ava gingerly pats his burly arm. "I hope this doesn't bring up bad memories. I just-"
"It's wonderful," he says, "I promise."
"Did someone mention cheesecake?"
I groan internally as Roman, Alexsey, and two of my men come out of the basement, clattering across the kitchen when they catch sight of us.
"What are you doing here?" Ava asks, as she looks at the two of them.
They've been here all night questioning the only man who survived the attack on Ava yesterday. "Ava brought a cheesecake to Gordi to say thank you for yesterday. Isn't that thoughtful?"
"Oh." Alexsey nods, "Well, we're here… because… Gordi cuts ribeye’s for us whenever he gets in a new beef order, so we stopped by to pick some up."
"Yes," Roman says with a straight face. "Those ribeye’s are fucking amazing. We should bring some over tonight and have Dmitri grill them for dinner."
"Why don't you take your ribeye’s and get out of here?" I say, leading them toward the back door. Gordi distracts Ava and they talk about her recipe as he pulls two forks from the racks by the dishwasher.
"Well, that was awkward as fuck," Roman says. "Your girl showing up with cheesecake?"
"I think it's fucking adorable," drawls Alexsey. "I'm just amazed Dmitri let her out of the house. You doing okay there, brother?"
"I'm fine. What do you mean?"
"Mother told me how you looked when you came into the clinic yesterday," he says. "She told me that you nearly ripped the door off the hinges trying to get to Ava."
"Really?" Roman grins. He looks between us. "I think this is the final stage, Alexsey."
"Final stage of what?" I snap.
"She's your girlfriend," Alexsey nods. "You fucking love her. Admit it."
I look through the kitchen door at Ava and Gordi chatting animatedly, as he devours another enormous chunk of the cheesecake.
Well, goddamnit. My brothers are right. I do love her.