Chapter 5
Viper
The sun’s barely up, and I’m already questioning my life choices.
Coffee. That’s what started this.
A girl with freckles and tired eyes. A hoodie two sizes too big. A smile she hides behind steam and routine.
Now I’m in her truck, behind her counter, facing a line of caffeine-deprived strangers like I didn’t just threaten someone yesterday.
“Next,” I bark.
The guy flinches. “Uh... large caramel latte. Oat milk. Extra whip?”
I stare at him. “You sure?”
He nods like his life depends on it.
I turn to the machine, jaw tight. It’s old, loud, and looks like it belongs in a mechanic's garage more than anyplace that serves food. Half the buttons are worn to hell, the labels scratched out or smeared beyond saving.
I press one. Steam hisses back, shooting out the side like a warning. The whole damn thing shudders. I brace my hand on the counter, narrow my eyes, try again—slower this time.
Still makes no damn sense.
Just heat. Noise. Buttons that mock me.
The cup ends up mostly full. Doesn’t smell burned. I’ll take the win.
I slap a lid on and shove it across the counter. “Tip jar’s right there. Don’t be greedy.”
He throws in a dollar and bolts like I growled at his soul.
“Next.”
Another guy. Neatly ironed shirt. Expensive watch. Not from around here.
“Uh... is the regular girl here?”
My eyes narrow. “No. You want coffee or not?”
He hesitates. “She’s... nice.”
I lean on the counter. Lower my voice. “She’s not here. And if that’s the reason you came, keep walking.”
He backs off like I pulled a gun instead of a dirty look.
Three more ask about her.
Each time, the muscle in my jaw ticks a little harder.
“She’s not here,” I tell one of them. “You’re stuck with me.”
It’s not customer service. It’s survival. Nobody argues.
I’m halfway through scorching another cappuccino when I hear her voice behind me.
“Maybe don’t scowl at the customers.”
I turn.
Ava.
Hair tied back. Boots scuffed. Jacket zipped all the way up. Calm like she wasn’t gone. Like nothing happened.
She steps into the truck, eyes flicking over the mess I’ve made.
“You’re not steaming the milk long enough,” she says, reaching past me.
Her fingers brush mine.
I freeze.
Then she’s moving, flipping switches, pressing buttons, pouring with muscle memory like she never left. She hands off a cup without even checking the order slip.
Outside, Sage leans on her car, grinning. Havoc stands beside her like a stone wall with eyes. Watching. Measuring.
A customer steps up. Ava handles him like she’s been doing it her whole life. A tired smile, a warm tone, and he walks away like the day just got better.
“You were trying,” she says quietly. “That counts.”
“I was doing fine.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You threatened the tip jar.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
Doris strolls up not long after, smirking like she walked in on a punchline.
“Well, look who’s back,” she says, eyes dancing over Ava. Then she turns to me. “And look who thought he could play barista. Bless your heart.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” I mutter.
“You frothed the milk into soup, Mason.”
Ava laughs.
And just like that, I don’t care how bad it was.
Hours pass. Orders blur. She works beside me like she never left. I don’t leave her side.
Eventually, I glance out the window.
Street’s quiet.
Last customer long gone.
So are Sage and Havoc.
“They left?” Ava asks.
I check my phone. One missed message from Havoc: Don’t burn the place down. You owe me a drink for this.
“Yeah. Said not to screw up too many orders.”
She snorts. “Too late.”
We clean up in silence. No talk about what happened. No mention of what it means.
When the last trash bag’s out and the counter’s wiped, I grab my keys.
“I’ll ride you back.”
She nods, quiet. No argument.
The ride to the cabin is different this time. Slower. Steady. She doesn’t hold back when she wraps her arms around my waist. Doesn’t flinch when we pull into the gravel drive.
She unlocks the door and turns to me, hand still on the knob.
“You want to come in?”
I do.
More than I should.
I follow her in. Shut the door behind me.
She turns.
I’m close. Closer than I meant to be.
Her eyes lift to mine. Her breath stutters.
So does mine.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I murmur. “I’m trying to be decent.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to be decent.”
My hand rises, brushes her cheek.
Soft. Warm.
She leans in, her voice low.
“If I kiss you once, I won’t stop. So think before you ask.”
“Kiss me, Mason.”
I do.
Slow. Deep. Hungry.
She melts against me like her body knew mine before her mind caught up.
When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“I want you,” she whispers.
My jaw flexes.
“Not tonight,” I say, rough. “Not when you’re still figuring out which way is up.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“I do tonight.”
Her brows lift. “You want me?”
“More than I should.”
“Then what’s stopping you?”
I step back. Just a little.
“Keep pushing me like that,” I growl, voice low and rough, “and I’ll show you exactly how dangerous it is to want me.”
Her gaze doesn’t waver. “I’m not breakable.”
That’s it. The last thread of restraint snaps.
I haul her into me and crush my mouth to hers. This kiss isn’t slow. It’s not gentle. It’s a claim. Her hands fist in my cut like she needs something solid to hold onto, like I’m the only steady thing in her world.
She tastes like heat and hunger and something that’s already mine.
I lift her without breaking the kiss, walking her backward until her thighs catch the edge of the bed. She sinks down, dragging me with her, knees parting like she was made to open for me.
My hand slides under the hem of her hoodie, fingers brushing warm skin. I pause.
“Tell me to stop.”
Her breath shudders. “No.”
“Ava,” I warn, my voice more gravel than words.
She slides her hands under my T-shirt, palms splaying across my skin like she’s claiming me right back.
“You said you’d show me,” she whispers. “So show me.”
My control fractures.
I drag her hoodie up, over her head. It lands somewhere behind us. Next I unhook her bra.
She doesn’t flinch under my stare. If anything, she leans into it. Daring me to look. To see her. Scars and all.
And I do.
I see everything.
“You’re beautiful,” I say.
She exhales like she’s been holding that breath for years.
My mouth finds her collarbone. Her neck. Her shoulder. I kiss every mark like it’s sacred. My lips trail lower, tracing the faint lines etched across her chest, each scar a story I want to learn by touch.
Ava's fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer, her body arching under my weight. She's trembling, but not from fear—from the fire building between us.
I pull back just enough to look at her, my hands framing her face. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with need.
"Mason," she breathes, voice shaky. "There's something you should know."
I freeze, thumb stroking her jaw. "What is it?"
She swallows, cheeks flushing deeper. "I'm... I've never done this before. I'm a virgin."
The words hit me like a punch, but not in a bad way. It stirs something protective and hungry in my gut. She's giving me this trust, laying herself bare.
My cock throbs against my jeans, but I shove that down. Tonight's about her.
"Fuck, Ava," I murmur, voice rough as gravel.
I lean in, forehead to hers. "I'm gonna make sure you feel good first. Real good. Until you're begging for more."
Her breath hitches, eyes widening. "You'd do that? For me?"
"Yeah," I growl, nipping her lower lip. "Gonna worship this pussy until you come undone."
She nods, a small whimper escaping as I kiss her again, claiming her mouth like I own it. Our tongues clash, tasting the heat and hunger that's been simmering since I walked through that door.
She moans into me, her hands yanking at my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. I let her, then shove her back gently onto the bed, her legs spreading wider to cradle me between them.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her leggings, tugging them down along with her panties in one rough pull. She lifts her hips to help, exposing herself to me completely.
Her pussy is bare, glistening already, pink and swollen with want.
"Beautiful," I rasp, eyes locked on her as I settle between her legs. My rough hands grip her thighs, spreading her open. She gasps, but doesn't close up, her confident gaze holds mine, daring me on.
I lean in, breath hot against her skin, kissing the inside of her thigh right over a scar. Then another. Slowly, my stubble scraping lightly. She squirms, fingers clutching the sheets.
"Mason... please."
"Patience, baby," I say, voice low and commanding. "Gonna take my time with you."
My mouth finally reaches her pussy. I drag my tongue flat along her slit, tasting her for the first time. Salty-sweet, addictive.
She bucks, a sharp cry tearing from her throat. "Oh god..."
I grip her hips harder, holding her steady as I lick again, slower this time, circling her clit with the tip of my tongue. It's swollen, begging for attention, and I give it, flicking lightly before sucking it between my lips.
Her legs tremble around my shoulders, heels digging into my back.
"Fuck, you taste so good," I mutter against her, the vibration making her whine. I delve deeper, tongue pushing inside her tight entrance, feeling how untouched she is. Virgin pussy, clenching around nothing but me now.
I thrust my tongue in and out, mimicking what I want to do with my cock later, building her up slow. Ava's hands find my hair again, pulling hard.
"Mason... it's too much... feels so..."
Her words dissolve into a moan as I lap at her folds, sucking her clit harder, one hand sliding up to pinch her nipple through her bra.
I can feel her getting wetter, her juices coating my chin, dripping down. My dick strains painfully, but I ignore it. This is her night.
I add a finger, just the tip, pressing against her entrance while my tongue works her clit relentlessly. She's so tight, resisting at first, but I ease in slow, curling it to hit that spot inside.
"Yes! Right there," she gasps, hips grinding against my face. Her body's on fire, scars forgotten in the rush of pleasure.
I pump my finger deeper, adding a second when she relaxes, stretching her gently while my mouth devours her.
She's close, I can tell by the way her thighs quake, her breaths coming in ragged pants.
"Come for me, Ava," I demand, voice muffled against her pussy. "Let me taste you come."
I suck harder, tongue flicking fast, fingers thrusting in rhythm. She shatters with a scream, back arching off the bed, pussy pulsing around my fingers as her orgasm floods my mouth.
I don't stop, lapping every drop, drawing it out until she's shaking, oversensitive and whimpering.
Finally, I pull back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, eyes on hers. She's flushed, chest heaving, looking at me like I'm her whole world.
"That was... incredible," she whispers, reaching for me.
I crawl up her body, kissing her softly this time, letting her taste herself on my lips.
"We're not done," I say, my hard cock pressing against her thigh through my jeans. "But when I fuck you, it'll be perfect."
Her hand slides down, palming me boldly through the fabric. "Then don't make me wait too long."