10. Avery
TEN
AVERY
Reid pushes inside me, and I can’t breathe.
Air is stuck in my lungs. My vision is blurry at best, and I wonder if this is how I’m going to die: with a beautiful man putting his dick in me.
What a way to go.
“ Fuck ,” I gasp. I think I might black out from the overwhelming sensation. “I can’t?—”
“We’re barely halfway there,” he grunts. There’s sweat on his forehead, and I wipe the perspiration away with my thumb. His fingernails dig into my skin, and I wonder what kind of marks I’ll have tomorrow. “I need you to take a deep breath, baby. Can you do that for me so I can make this good for you?”
Baby.
It’s been years since someone used such an affectionate word with me, and my heart skips a beat.
Goddamn him for making me emotional and horny at the same time.
I inhale and try to relax. I nod and let him know he can keep going and he rocks his hips, almost fully buried in me.
“More,” I groan. “I can take more.”
“You can take all of it, can’t you?” Reid runs his hand up my leg and presses down on my stomach. He thrusts forward, and his groan matches mine. “How are you this tight?”
“Tight for you,” I say like an idiot. Like he cares about who I belong to. Like tonight will have any meaning five years down the road.
“That’s right.” His voice changes. It gets an octave deeper. More possessive, and when he leans over and pushes in all the way to the hilt, there’s fire in his eyes. “Mine.”
“This…” When he touches my clit, I’m electrified. When he moves to my throat, I’m incinerated. “Best I’ve ever?—”
“Me too. I’m not sure I can?—”
“I can’t either.”
We both let out a quiet laugh, and I lose myself in him. In the bleariness of being so full and so stretched, but also like I need more. Reid gives me what I want, driving into me until I don’t know where he ends and I begin.
Sex has never been like this before. I doubt it’ll be like this ever again. All-consuming and earth-shattering. It’s not just fucking but like our bodies are connected, and I’m not sure what that means.
“Avery. I—tell me what you need to come, because I’m really struggling to keep it together here,” he says around a strangled grunt. “And you have to go first.”
“I like your selflessness.” I smile when he pinches my left nipple. “I’m right there. Right?—”
Reid slams into me, and I tremble. The pressure inside takes over. White-hot euphoria pulses through me, and I see stars.
I’m greedy, ravenous, taking everything he gives me until his legs shake. Until his fingers wrap around my neck, the soft pad of his thumb pressing into my windpipe and the feral grin he gives me when I don’t ask him to ease up.
His shoulders tense. His eyes lock on mine for one second before he drops his head back and groans. I feel him pulse inside of me, emptying himself, and never has a man been more attractive.
I did that .
I stroke his arm and coax him through it, watching as he falls to pieces through soft groans and whispers of my name.
“Am I dead?” Reid pants, putting one hand on either side of my head as he calms down. “I think I might be dead.”
“I’m heading that way too.” I close my eyes and blow out a long breath. “Maybe we’re both in heaven.”
“I definitely am. I’m still inside you, and you’re fucking nirvana.”
He pulls out of me and ties off the used condom, dropping it to the floor. He grabs his glasses and shoves them on his face, flopping onto his back and draping an arm across my chest.
“Ah. There you are,” he says.
“Can you see without them?” I ask.
“Not really, but I can see enough.”
I tap my fingers on my stomach and stare at the ceiling. I don’t know what the next part of our conversation should be.
Thanks for the great sex ?
Were you serious about dinner ?
Want to go another round? Maybe I can bend over the bed this time.
“So.” I brush away the hair matted to my forehead and cross my ankles. I need a shower. I should probably put some clothes on, but I’m bone-achingly tired. “What’s up?”
Reid laughs, a deep rumble that shakes the bed. “Wow. I was thinking I’d be the one who made this weird because I don’t know what to say to people half the time, but you’re handling it just fine for me.”
“Asshole.” I roll onto my side and prop up on an elbow. I look down at him and find his eyes closed. “What do you have going on this week?”
“I’m going out of town on Thursday, and I’ll be gone through the weekend,” he says.
“Doing anything fun?”
“Do you consider kissing people’s asses fun?”
“I mean, I’ll try anything once.”
His smile is devastating. “I don’t like big group things. Tonight was fine because I was with my friends and celebrating something important to me. But three days of shaking people’s hands and pretending like I’m interested in the things they have to say gets really old, really fast.”
“What would your ideal day be if you could do anything you wanted?”
“You don’t want to hear this answer. I’m not ready to give up this cool guy persona I’ve got going for me.”
“Do I think you’re cool?” I ask, squealing when he rolls me on top of him, his hands a welcomed weight on my hips.
“I’d start with a game of Dungeons & Dragons. Then I’d go to the comic book store and make sure I’m not missing out on a new edition of my favorite series. I’d probably play Call of Duty with my friends and we’d lose. They’re better than me, and I really bring the team down.”
“You can’t be that bad.”
“Twelve-year-olds wipe the floor with me. When they shoot and kill me in the game, they make all these comments about my mom.”
“Oh, to be young again,” I say.
His thumb brushes along my ribs. “If I was really lucky, you’d be there. And I could fuck you everywhere I wanted.”
“Do you want to fuck me in a lot of places?”
“The list in my head is growing by the second. My living room. Against the window. The shower.” He pauses before saying, “Tell me about your ideal day.”
“You’re going to think I’m stuck-up.”
Reid frowns. “Have people called your ideal day stuck-up before?”
“Maybe.”
“Attention. Me.” He traces the underside of my breast. “Not them.”
It’s hard to pay attention to anything when he’s touching me like this .
“First, I’d go and get my hair done,” I say.
“Is brunette your natural color?”
“Mhm. I went blond once in college and then decided to try pink in my mid-twenties. Neither was a good look. I’d also get a manicure and pedicure. Then I’d watch a sports game at the bar with a bunch of fans and yell until my throat was sore. After, I’d sneak into your apartment and surprise you on your bed while reading a comic book.”
“Naked, hopefully,” he says.
“In a Chewbacca onesie,” I say.
“You know the way to a guy’s heart. Where in that day is you being stuck-up?”
“I don’t know. When I spoil and pamper myself. When I want to look and feel good.”
“There’s no shame in doing things that make you happy.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
His mouth twists. I think he wants to ask another question, but he shifts gears. “What are you doing this week?”
“The first couple of days should be quiet with work, but the last half of the week is going to be busy,” I say.
I’m already picking out the outfits I need to bring to next weekend’s NFL conference and creating a checklist in my head. There’s my keynote speech I have to review and flashcards to put together. A suitcase to pack and content to schedule. All of that seems inconsequential right now, though, when I’m looking down at him.
“You’re free Tuesday, though?” he asks, hopeful.
“For dinner with you?” I smile. “Yeah, I am.”
“Good. That’ll be fun.”
I climb off him and curl up at his side. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. I sigh, content, and dance my fingers across his collarbone.
“Thank you for making tonight fun,” I whisper. His grip on me tightens, and I relax into the feeling of being safe. A spot I’m not familiar with, but I’d like to get to know. “I thought the cake might be the shining moment, but you swooped in there and stole the show.”
“I told my friends about you.” He pauses and huffs out a tired chuckle. I think he might be half asleep. Delirious and on the cusp of dreams. “Fuck, that sounds creepy.”
“You were writing my name in your diary, weren’t you? Playing MASH and using me on your lists of wives.”
“We’re probably going to end up living in a shack. I’m sorry about the hole in the ceiling,” he says.
“I’ll decorate and make it nice. What did you tell your friends?”
“How I was kicking myself for not getting your number at the bar. And then you show up here tonight, and… I don’t know. As someone who likes routine and order and hates being surprised, I’m beginning to think I might need to start going with the flow more often. Especially if that means I’ll get you as a result.”
“The last wedding I went to, my boyfriend at the time made out with a bridesmaid,” I say. He loosens his hold so he can scoot across the sheets and look down at me. His eyebrows wrinkle and his mouth droops to a frown. “I know, I know. Trust me, I learned my lesson, and you helped me break my bad wedding streak.”
“What else was included in the streak?”
“The time before that, the groom showed up in Crocs and really killed the vibe.”
He laughs. “Did that douche from the other night try to message you after your stellar date?”
I close my eyes and stretch out my legs. “No. He thinks my name is Ashley, so some girl is probably getting harassed via Instagram DMs because he mistook her for me.”
“Sometimes I think the bar for my species can’t get any lower. Then there’s someone like him who reminds me women’s standards for men are in the depths of hell.”
“Deeper.” I yawn. “All the way down in Treachery.”
“You’re a Dante fan?”
“I took AP Lit in high school like everyone else. I retained about eight percent of the material.”
“That’s seven percent more than me.” He rests his palm on my stomach and drums his fingers on my hip. “You can stay here tonight if you want.”
“I might have to. The last thing I want to do is put that dress back on, and I don’t think walking down the hall in a T-shirt that barely covers my ass is proper wedding attire.”
“It’s past midnight. The time for proper wedding attire is long gone. God knows what you’d see if you went out there now. Dicks, everywhere, probably.”
“Guess I have to stay put, then. It’s safe here.” I open one eye and look at him. He’s already looking at me, and it makes my insides warm. “What?”
“Nothing. Just—” Reid shakes his head. “You. This. Stuff like this doesn’t happen to me. It happens to my friends, and…” He trails off. “It feels like I’ve been dreaming for the last two hours.”
“It feels like that for me too,” I admit. “I really would like to stay, if that’s okay. I’ll leave in the morning before you need to check out and?—”
He draws me close to him and kisses me. It’s tender, nothing like what we did earlier, but in the moment, it’s perfect. When he pulls away, he sighs into my hair. I can feel his contentment too, and we don’t have anything else to say.
The night spirals to morning in a blur of hands and tongues. Of hour-long naps and being woken up with the hot press of his mouth against my shoulder blade. Of one shower then another, sharing bits and pieces of ourselves—physically and emotionally—until the sun starts to rise and my body sags with exhaustion.
I rip off a piece of paper from the notepad on the floor and give him my number just as the clock turns to six. A swarm of butterflies flutter in my chest when he cups my cheek and kisses my forehead, a hickey on his neck and a pair of boxers hanging low on his hips.
“I’ll text you,” Reid says, leaning against the door. His eyes are heavy, and there’s still a smudge of lipstick on his neck. He tries to hide his yawn, fighting off the tiredness with a lazy smile that breaks free across his mouth. “Soon. After a massive cup of coffee.”
“I’ll be disappointed if you don’t,” I say.
“I promise. I swear in the name of boat shoes,” he says, and I know it’s the honest truth.
I’m not a big believer of fate or divine intervention, but as I head out of his room with my heels in my hand and a final look over my shoulder where I find him watching me walk away, I can’t help but think Reid was sent to me for a very specific reason.