Chapter 28
DESMOND
It was a little after ten at night, and I was on my bed, spooning Ava, covered only by a white blanket, while she giggled at pictures of the two of us from years past.
“Look at this,” she said, pulling up a picture on her phone.
It was a picture of Ava eight years ago, dressed up for Halloween as a snooty bartender. I hid a chortle. She looked anything but snooty. She reminded me of what Pam from The Office would be like if she had auburn hair and wore a tiny tank top over jeans while holding a shaker tin.
“Are you sure that’s you?” I asked, bending down to nibble at her earlobe. The way she leaned into me told me she liked it. “That’s way too racy for my Ava.”
“I so can be racy,” she said with a content sigh as she pulled the phone closer and scrolled up for older photos. “Look at this one.”
At the next image, I had to work really hard to suppress a laugh. She was actually dressed like Pam from The Office, her neck covered up to the topmost button.
She turned to me and put her arm around my neck in a way that was trusting and comforting. Her breasts grazed my chest, and I leaned in, cupping one of them over the blanket as I took her lips in a hungry kiss. As if I’d been starved for her love all these years and only just met her.
“I confess,” she said when we finally pulled apart, my fingers stroking her nipple in circles, “this is the limit of my raciness.”
Our week had been wonderful. In addition to amazing dinners at home when I ordered in, we’d made some stealthy visits to some of New York’s most beautiful waterfronts, always after the sun set.
It felt safer, being outdoors together that way.
During our time together, we’d been filling each other in on all the details that we’d missed in the past ten years.
The rest of our time together had been spent on a bed that seemed perpetually welcoming.
I lifted my fingers to her forehead, where I could see one vertical crease as she looked at me thoughtfully. “Is something the matter?” I asked.
She closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling a few times, her lips pressed together, as though she was steeling herself. “I got a confirmation from Bianca,” she said in a small voice. “She wants to interview me tomorrow.”
Ah. Now, I understood why she had that crease on her forehead.
“After seeing how those reporters troubled you a few days ago? I’m nervous.”
I drew in a deep breath. “Can I do something to make you feel better?” I asked, rubbing my fingers on her temples and slowly getting to the crease on her forehead. “How would you feel if I got my assistant to convert this into a work interview? And we give it together?”
The crease on her forehead disappeared. “An interview? With the two of us?”
I nodded. “It’s my company. I’ll be standing by my restaurant investment.”
She seemed to consider it.
I pulled myself over her, bending down to kiss her desperately.
It would mean the world to me if she agreed.
It would mean I got one more hour in the day with her instead of waiting to see her in the evening.
It’d mean I got to protect her from any unwanted questions a seasoned reporter like Bianca might have. It’d mean I got to keep her safe.
I bit down on her lip gently and then trailed my kisses down her neck and stopped at a sensitive spot at the base, which I knew she liked. Her ragged breath gave away everything while I took my time.
The blanket fell off to reveal round breasts, rosy peaks, and a curved waist. I wanted to reach out and caress her. I leaned on my elbow, resting my head on my hand. I ran my fingers over her plump lips.
She was silent for a minute before she turned to me. “As much as I like the idea of us giving that interview together, I think I’m not ready for the speculation that it would set off.”
Now, that sparked a new train of thought. “I wish I could be seen with you in public, gossip and all,” I said, the words out of my lips before I was ready for it.
The statement surprised me, just as it did her. Her eyes blinked rapidly as she considered it.
She kissed me back urgently. I could sense that I’d made her feel better, and I felt myself hardening against her.
“I know,” she breathed out against my neck. “It’s just that I’m not ready for it yet.”
I understood.
Her kisses got hotter, and she reached down to palm my erection.
She started to stroke with one hand. Her hand was wrapped perfectly around me, and I groaned as I shut my eyes at the touch.
With Ava’s knowing touch, I always came faster than ever, and I found it ridiculous, the way my body gave in to her so quickly.
“Go slow,” I said, leaning in to kiss her hair.
None of the fantasies I’d had about Ava in our years apart even came close to the real thing.
And irrespective of the number of times I’d had sex with her, I simply couldn’t get her out of my system.
If anything, I was harder around her every time than I’d ever been in the past. Her hand slid up and down over my hard, straining shaft, and she made tiny, whispering sounds as she moved, almost destroying me.
I didn’t want to come, and I didn’t want her to let go of me at all. She was moving faster now, squeezing harder, and I leaned in to tell her to wait.
I pulled her up, and once she spread her legs apart, I paused to slip on a condom quickly before I entered her. I moved gently at first and then began to thrust into her with increasing intensity while wrapping her legs around my waist.
I bent down to suck her neck as I thrust my hips forward.
She was tight, and I was as deep as I could be, and it felt just perfect.
I grunted, my lips on her smooth skin, close to the brink.
When I came, I wanted her to feel something too.
So, I sucked on her neck and moved up to her jaw, finally stopping to bite her lip, tasting her as I broke slowly apart with each final thrust.
In a second, I shuddered against her as I felt the wetness between us.
I stayed inside for a few moments, kissing her lips gently this time, and she kissed back with a sigh.
I got out gingerly, taking the condom off and tossing it in the bin next to the bed before I leaned down on the bed, drawing her to me, spent and happy.
We lay in silence for a while, refusing to give in to sleep. I reached for the locket around her soft, glowing neck and held the pendant between my fingers.
“This is mine,” I said, turning it around. “I like that you still have it.”
It had been years since this’d held a picture of us, this heart-shaped little locket, but I wanted to see whose picture took my place.
She nodded, and I didn’t intrude.
“You can open it, you know,” she said, and when I did, there was the tiniest photo of her mom in it.
“Nancy Hale,” I muttered, a faint recollection of the memory coming to me.
I shut the locket, realizing that she probably didn’t want to talk about her mom. But to my surprise, Ava opened the locket herself and looked at it for a long moment, the expression on her face more peaceful than I’d ever seen before.
I wasn’t sure if she was ready to speak about her mom again, but I tried anyway. “Was your mom the inspiration for you to want to work in the restaurant industry too?”
Ava stole a look at me before turning back to her mom’s photograph. “Yes,” she sighed, tracing the small photo with her finger. She turned to me. “Mom always said she wanted me to be self-employed. Have my own business, like she did.”
“Why was it so important to her?”
“Because then no one could take it away,” Ava said with a heavy voice.
I looked up at her, startled by the defeat in her voice. The pained expression on her face was back.
“We don’t need to talk about her,” I said, running my fingers up and down her arms in a way I hoped was soothing for her.
“It hurts to talk about her, darling. But there’s something else too. Something that makes me feel like I’m keeping her alive a little when I talk about her anyway.”
Her body moved as she turned closer to me, and I could see the trouble in her eyes.
“Someday,” I said, “there will be something other than pain when you think about her. I’ve lived through this too. Someday, you will smile when you talk about her. Just keep going, sweetheart. It only gets better.”
She lifted her head and looked at me. With a determined expression, she nodded and spoke.
“Mom had a string of bad luck at places she had worked at as a waitress. The first company folded. The second place she worked at had an unethical manager, and she quit rather than work for a sleazeball. The man got so offended that he spread rumors of her sleeping with a colleague when she hadn’t, and she could never find work again.
That was in Austin, by the way. It had been the incident that pushed Mom to move back to New York three years ago.
Mom had no references, nothing. She had a good savings though and helped pay for my upkeep until she passed away.
” I sighed. “I don’t think her regret ever left her though.
She always insisted, until her last day, that I never work for anyone but myself. ”
I stared deeply at the picture of a smiling woman.
“Well, she might not have liked it if she knew you were going to be working for me,” I said, feeling a hint of bitter regret.
Ava shut the locket and lay back down, snuggling close to me.
“But she doesn’t know the kind of man you grew up to be,” she muttered softly.
“You expanded the Lead Capital Group’s business portfolio and acquired the top five companies in the hospitality and tourism industries today.
You grew Luxe Hotels to a business that employs ten thousand people around the world.
You have the same entrepreneurial spirit that Mom had. ”
“You’ve kept track of my career?” I asked in disbelief.