19. Ava
Chapter Nineteen
Ava
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I could feel the hard, hot length of Tanner’s arousal pulsing beneath my palm as I gave in to the urge to slide my hand over the ridge of his cock. Even through the denim, I could feel the heat of him, the undeniable proof of his desire, and it startled me in the best possible way.
I took a shaky breath. I was hot and needy all over.
Memories tried to intrude, unwanted and unwelcome. The way things had been with Brad, how he’d always had trouble getting aroused and somehow made it my fault. How I’d gone down internet rabbit holes trying to figure out why.
“Ava.” His voice came out low and rough, a rasp that slid straight through me. The sound alone tangled with my arousal, heat simmering just beneath my skin.
I took another shaky breath, grounding myself back in the present. Right here. With him.
“Focus on the hotshot,” I murmured.
His lips kicked up at the corners, and I loved that I’d done that to him.
“We need to be careful—” he began.
“No, we don’t,” I protested.
He chuckled. “You could let me finish my sentence.”
I sighed. “Okay, fine.”
“About your ankle,” he finished.
“Oh. That.”
I’d shifted so I was halfway in his lap, my injured leg still propped on the ottoman. It wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t care.
“We will.” I nodded. “I promise.”
“You’ll have to pay attention,” he teased.
“I will,” I said quickly. “But you might want to pay attention too. It’s a little hard to focus.”
He laughed, low and warm. He shifted carefully, angling my body so my knee and ankle didn’t twist. He pulled my hips fully into his lap.
Of course he was strong, what with being a hotshot firefighter and all. But what stole my breath was the way I could feel him beneath me, hard and wanting. I loved it, loved knowing I did that.
I was wet and needy, rushed and breathless, and suddenly nervous all over again.
Tanner sensed it instantly. “Stop thinking, Ava.”
I huffed. “About what?”
He shut me up with a kiss. Which was ideal, honestly, because this man could kiss.
I melted into it, impatient when he pulled back just enough for me to trail my fingers along the stubble on his jaw. Tanner with a five o’clock shadow was delectable. I loved the subtle prickly feel beneath my fingertips.
He leaned back slightly, eyes dark. “Tell me what you want.”
His question froze me. Brad had never asked me that. Not once.
“You,” I said immediately.
“What feels good for you?”
Insecurity slammed into me hard and fast.
He slid his hand from my hair, his calloused palm brushing along my neck. Goose bumps rose instantly. He traced my collarbone before teasing his thumb over my nipple through the thin fabric of my tank top.
“Do you like that?” he asked quietly.
I choked on a breath and nodded. “Yes.”
“Since we know it didn’t feel good with your ex, what do you do for yourself?”
My cheeks burned. “I have a really nice vibrator,” I blurted out.
His smile was immediate. “Good,” he said. “Love that. What do you do with it?”
His hand slid lower, cupping between my thighs. My hips rocked instinctively into his touch. “That feels good,” I said faintly even though it was obvious.
“Not tonight,” he added, voice low. “But sometime we could play with that.”
Something cracked open in my chest then, a feeling I didn’t quite trust. It scared me, so I tried to shake it off.
“Kiss me again,” I whispered.
Tanner didn’t hesitate. One hand cupped the nape of my neck, firm and steady, while the other stayed exactly where it was, between my thighs.
His mouth claimed mine, slow and commanding, and I could have lost myself in his kisses forever.
He kissed like he was savoring me. Easy and unhurried, nipping lightly at the corners of my mouth, breathing me in.
When we finally broke apart, we stared at each other. I saw my own shock reflected in his eyes.
The sensation building inside me was completely unfamiliar. My pulse raced, wild and uncontained, like a herd of horses thundering faster and faster. But it wasn’t just my pulse. Every sensation seemed to intensify, gathering speed and slipping beyond my control.
It shocked me because I’d expected this to follow the old pattern. Kisses leading to boredom, to impatience, to critique. Ending in that awful, exposed feeling, like I was failing. Instead, sensation drove me.
I wanted more.
“More,” I whispered without realizing I’d said it out loud.
“That’s easy,” Tanner said. “And that’s all you want?”
I nodded, then hesitated. “What did we say about thinking?” he teased.
I pressed my lips together and rolled my eyes. I felt uncertain and vulnerable, but safe.
I cupped his cheeks and kissed him again, just like I had in the hospital. Doubt flickered, trying to remind me that being assertive had never gone well before.
Tanner didn’t mind at all. I felt the curve of his smile as he adjusted the angle of my head and deepened our kiss. It felt like diving into deep water, then bursting back up for air—invigorating, bracingly alive. I shifted restlessly, wanting more.
Tanner moved me carefully in his arms, always aware of my ankle. His hand loosened in my hair before sliding down to my breasts, teasing until pleasure spiked sharp and sweet. He pinched one nipple lightly.
I whimpered. The sound startled me. I had never been a whimpering kind of girl unless I was faking it.
His palm slid beneath the hem of my tank top. Oh. My. God. Skin on skin. Heat raced everywhere. The sensation inside me kept building, faster and faster. I shifted in his lap, loving the way his arousal pressed against me. I wore stretchy leggings because that was all I wore these days.
For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t pretending.
I wanted his hand to slide right under that waistband, but no luck yet.
Instead, he slid over the fabric to cup between my thighs again, and I restlessly pressed my hips up into his touch.
As our kiss went on and on, his head dipped lower, nipping lightly at the side of my neck. I arched into him, gasping his name.
He gave me just the perfect amount of pressure, right where I needed it. A climax burst through me—shocking, fierce—and I shuddered, crying out and flexing up into him. When I opened my eyes, his gaze was already waiting for mine.
I didn’t know what I expected. Maybe some kind of cocky satisfaction. That was what I always got from my ex when I faked it. But that was not how Tanner looked.
His eyes searched mine with a question in them before he dipped his head again, catching my lips in a languid, almost lazy kiss. Leaning back, he asked, “How do you feel?”
I decided to be honest. There was nothing to lose here. “Amazing,” I said.
Tanner let out a startled laugh, eliciting a giggle from me. “It was amazing,” I repeated. “I had an orgasm. I’ve only had them with my vibrator. By myself. I didn’t expect that,” I said honestly, a flush of vulnerability rising inside again.
It felt deeply exposing to say it aloud. But even though I was the one who had just had an orgasm—fully clothed—Tanner looked like maybe he felt exposed too. That made me feel not quite so alone in the moment.
I took a breath. Pleasure was still rippling through me as I stared up at him. I wiggled slightly in his lap. He was still hard. Another surprise. Brad constantly had trouble keeping it up and always blamed it on me.
“Your turn?” I pressed.
Tanner shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“Ma’am?” I squeaked, half laughing, about to get bossy and insist I do something about this very real situation.
But he shook his head again, more firmly this time. “I like you, Ava. It’s not always about that.” He gave me a quick, hard kiss, one hand palming my cheek, then leaned back again.
“But—” I began.
“Really. It’s not necessary. We have time.”
I mentally scrambled a little. You see, my ex’s pleasure—if you could call it that—was always the priority. I didn’t even know if he ever enjoyed anything we did. But he made sure I knew I wasn’t doing it right.
“I mean that,” Tanner insisted.
“Okay, fine.” I let out a little sigh. “So what do we do now?”
The TV was still rolling in the background. Tanner glanced over at it. “We could watch a show.”
“Really?” I wiggled again in his lap and saw his jaw clench. A bolt of satisfaction zinged through me.
“Ava?” he warned.
“What?”
“I want this to be good for you.”
“Well, we’ve established it is. But what about you?”
“I don’t mean this very minute. I mean all of it.”
I opened my mouth to say something else. But I’d already said more than I ever thought I’d tell anyone, so I snapped it shut. “All right. Let’s watch a show.”
It was actually okay. I relaxed. I didn’t feel guilty, like I hadn’t done something right for him. I didn’t worry about what I was doing wrong. Later, when I fell asleep—after he kissed me and left—I smiled in the darkness.
I felt good, like maybe I hadn’t messed this up tonight.