Whisk Me Away

Chapter Twelve

Things took a turn after that night, and for the better.

Ava didn’t know how that was possible. She didn’t understand any of it, but it was so much more than what things around Regan had always been in her mind—so beyond —and she wasn’t willing to overanalyze. Ava was not a “just go with it” kind of person, but it’s exactly what she did. She just went with it.

It had been two weeks since their initial make-out session, and there had been more. Many more. Like, every night. Making out. Every single night. Then they’d stop and fall asleep together, in one bed or the other, snuggled close, entwined like vines. When was the last time Ava had felt so relaxed sleeping with someone else? Just sleeping? She couldn’t remember. She’d woken up practically lying on top of Regan. And she’d woken up with Regan practically lying on top of her. And neither had been bad. Both had been awesome.

The atmosphere in the kitchen had changed, too. It had relaxed. Ava and Regan joked and played and laughed. Even the other chefs seemed to feel the shift, lightening up, their amusement clear, their own laughter seeming to come easier. When Ava had made a smart-ass comment to Regan on cupcake day and been rewarded by a handful of flour thrown at her, the entire kitchen had broken out into an impromptu food fight. Flour, brown sugar, chocolate chips, and cupcake cups had been launched across the aisles from workstation to workstation, shrieks of laughter filling the air, until Ava noticed Liza standing at the front of the room, hands clasped behind her back, looking not terribly pleased with the behavior of her retreaters. Ava cleared her throat loudly and shot a look Regan’s way.

Regan was laughing but noticed Ava’s expression and sobered quickly, also clearing her throat so that Vienna in front of her caught on and the rest of the room ceased their antics and smothered their grins.

“Well,” Liza said, her voice stern, unimpressed. “I’m glad to see none of you care about the messes you make or the seriousness of this retreat.”

Maia raised her hand before saying, “We’re sorry, Chef. Just blowing off a little steam.”

“Hmm,” Liza said. She stood in silence for a moment, then waved a dismissive hand. “Clean it up. We’re done for today. Hopefully, you’ll come back tomorrow ready to be serious.” She turned on her heel and stormed off while the rest of them stood in silence for a moment. For two. Finally, Vienna turned to look back at them and mouthed yikes , which broke the tension and allowed for quiet chuckles.

“Sorry, guys,” Regan said, scrunching up her nose with guilt. “That was my fault for starting things.” She glanced over at Ava and then flushed a pretty pink. Ava smiled at her but said nothing.

“I don’t care what Chef says,” Maia said softly. “I needed that. We needed that.”

“Yeah, but now we won’t finish cupcakes.” Paige seemed bothered by this, and Ava glanced at Regan, who looked like she felt worse.

“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Regan grimaced, and Ava wanted to wrap her up in her arms and reassure her.

“Listen,” she finally said. “It’s been tense here. Chef has put us under a lot of pressure, and sometimes…” She shrugged as she let the sentence taper off.

“Sometimes, a little fun is warranted,” Madison said, shaking her head. “I mean, does she expect us to just be super serious all the damn time?”

“I think she probably does,” Vienna pointed out, and Ava had to agree with her.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ava said. “It’s done. Let’s clean up and come back tomorrow ready to work.”

Just as nods were going around the kitchen, May appeared in her usual black pants and white shirt. The retreaters all gave her their attention.

“Chefs, hello. Dinner will be served in the dining room at the usual six p.m. Assistants, Chef Bennett-Schmidt would like to see you all before you leave for the day. Please meet her in the conference room on the third floor in twenty minutes.” And with that, she glided out the same way she always did—silently and seemingly not touching the ground.

“Man, she is so weird,” Ava heard Maia mutter, and had to smother her own grin because Maia was not wrong. She went to find a broom to take care of all the flour that had ended up on the floor, and they all got to work on the cleanup.

Later that night, after dinner, the chefs split up. Vienna wanted to chill on her own for a while. “I need some introvert downtime” were her exact words. Maia, Madison, and Paige decided to go back to the arcade because, according to Maia, all her steam hadn’t been blown off yet. She asked Regan and Ava if they wanted to join.

“Oh, um, I think I’m just gonna chill.” Regan glanced at Ava, and Ava rolled her lips in to keep from shooting her a sexy grin. “You wanna go?”

Ava worked hard at her nonchalance, no easy feat. “Nah. I think I’m gonna read or something. But you guys have fun.”

Maia glanced from one to the other and back. “Okay. Cool. Well, we’ll catch you tomorrow, then.” And when Madison and Paige had gone out the front door ahead of her, she turned back to them and winked. Then the door shut behind them, leaving Ava and Regan standing there.

“Did she seriously just wink at us?” Regan asked, her disbelief clear.

Ava laughed softly. “I believe she did, yes.”

Regan shook her head. “I didn’t think people younger than my grandpa even did that anymore.”

“You’re clearly mistaken,” Ava said, then winked at her and headed up the stairs to their room.

It was strange now. Every time they ended up alone in their room together, the air felt suddenly charged, electrified. Regan’s presence felt arousingly close, and Ava’s underwear got instantly damp. She let Regan enter first, then shut the door behind them. No sooner had the latch clicked than Regan was on her, pushing her back against the door and pulling a soft oof from her.

Regan’s mouth crashed into hers.

There was nothing gentle about this kiss, oh no. Regan was taking from her, demanding from her, telling her silently that Ava was not in charge right now, Regan was. This was a side of Regan that had been unexpected when she first showed it. Ava had been surprised. She’d never thought of Regan as anything close to assertive. Certainly not pleasantly aggressive. Not the tiniest bit sure of herself. But it turned out Regan was all of those things and more. And they made her unbelievably sexy.

Of course, Ava kissed her back with all she had, giving as good as she got, and before long, they were shuffling their way toward the bed, their mouths still fused together.

Goddamn, Regan was a spectacular kisser. Like, easily the best kisser she’d ever kissed. Not that she’d kissed tons of people, but she’d had her fair share. She and Regan were incendiary when they kissed, it was true, but something was different tonight. She felt it deeply. Something ignited in her, started with a steady heat low in her body and began consuming her from the inside. She didn’t even think about it before she rolled them so she was on all fours above Regan, and she pulled away from the kiss. Regan’s eyes were dark and hooded, and her chest rose and fell with her excited breaths.

Ava sat up on her knees and pulled her shirt over her head. Then she met Regan’s gaze and, without breaking eye contact, reached behind herself to unfasten her bra and slip it off.

Regan’s eyes went wide.

They hadn’t gone this far yet, but Ava was ready. All she had to do was look at Regan’s face to know she was, too, so she leaned forward onto her hands again so her bare breasts dangled just above Regan’s mouth.

Regan looked at them, then shifted her gaze to Ava’s. “Are you sure?” she asked on a whisper.

In response, Ava lowered a breast until her hardened nipple brushed against Regan’s lips.

That was all it took.

Regan closed her mouth over the nipple and sucked hard. Ava thought she might pass out from the electric current of pleasure that shot through her. Regan’s hands entered the game, one of them toying with Ava’s other nipple so that both were being stimulated at the same time, and the moan that rumbled up from Ava’s throat was a new sound for her. Sensual. Erotic. Regan drew them out of her somehow, all these new sounds. Moans and whimpers and cries, all new to her, all foreign, but incredible.

Regan’s mouth was hot and talented. Ava had no idea how there could be more than one way to suck on a nipple, but Regan seemed to have an entire bag of tricks. Whatever she was doing, it was like magic. X-rated magic. And Ava didn’t want to know the secrets, she only wanted to be the recipient of that magic.

Then Regan’s mouth was back on hers while her hands kneaded Ava’s breasts, but Ava wrenched away and pushed herself up on her knees. “You are alarmingly overdressed,” she said, her voice hoarse as she waved a finger in front of Regan’s torso. Regan’s hands in hers, she pulled her to sitting, then tugged her shirt over her head. Regan’s bra was next, and then there they were. Ava sat back on her haunches so their height was similar. Her nipples were hard, and she moved forward the tiniest bit until they were brushing Regan’s, coaxing them to their own hardness. “That’s better,” Ava whispered, and with Regan’s face in both her hands, she lowered her mouth to Regan’s and kissed the bejesus out of her.

It had been some time since Ava’d had sex. The last time had been nearly a year ago, and it had been with someone she didn’t really connect with. She’d had the itch—at that point, it had been nearly two years since she’d felt the touch of another woman, and she was drowning—and a friend encouraged her not to be so strict with her prerequisites. She’d met a very attractive woman in a bar, they’d talked, and she’d gone home with her. The sex had been fine but had left her feeling empty somehow, emptier than she’d felt before they’d met. After that, she’d vowed not to give herself to somebody she didn’t know ever again. No judgment to people who could manage casual sex without issues, but it wasn’t for her.

Nothing about things with Regan was casual anymore.

It was something she’d been realizing as time went on, as they’d gotten to know each other better and better. Things had shifted. Not only did she feel comfortable with Regan, not only was she starting to understand that she really liked her, but she also trusted her, and that was a big fucking deal, because Ava did not trust many people. But as they rolled and their positions reversed and Regan was now above her, looking down at her with such desire in her eyes, Ava trusted her. When Regan ran her tongue along the side of Ava’s neck and down over her nipple, Ava trusted her. When she unfastened Ava’s jeans and peeled them down her legs, Ava trusted her. Lying there on the bed, wearing nothing but her underwear, Regan braced above her, she trusted her. And when Regan’s fingertips danced up her leg and along the inside of her thigh, when Regan slipped one finger beneath the elastic and skimmed through her hot wetness, pulling a gasp from Ava’s lips, Ava trusted her.

“You,” Regan began, then stopped and cleared her throat, as if overcome by…something. She shook her head with a smile. “I can’t believe I’m here, touching you like this.” Her finger was still in Ava’s panties, and she moved it again. Ava gasped again. “And that I get to hear these sounds you make.” Again. “God, you’re so fucking sexy.” Her eyes never leaving Ava’s, she slowly slid the underwear down her legs and tossed it to the floor.

Ava was completely naked. Totally vulnerable. Not something she normally enjoyed, but Regan made her feel beautiful, and that gave her confidence, the confidence to lie there, open, while Regan’s gaze raked over her with such an intense desire, she could almost feel it move along her skin. She was so turned on, she worried she might combust. Or that the second Regan touched her, she’d explode.

Regan’s eye contact was impressive. Ava had always thought so. Even when she’d been criticizing her back in the restaurant all those years ago, Regan always took it standing tall and looking her in the eye. Now they were horizontal, but the eye contact remained. Regan held her gaze while she slowly moved Ava’s legs so she could kneel between them. Regan held her gaze when she put a hand on each of Ava’s thighs and pushed them further apart, exposing her—to the air, to Regan’s hands, to her eyes, to her mouth. And Regan held her gaze as she lowered herself between Ava’s legs and kissed her inner thighs, working her way almost to Ava’s center before switching over to the other thigh. She got so close more than once, but she’d lift her tongue mere millimeters before the spot where Ava needed her to be, and it wasn’t long before Ave was soaked and writhing.

Regan continued to go from thigh to thigh, her hands bracing Ava’s hips and preventing her from shifting them so her center would meet Regan’s tongue.

“Oh God” seemed to be the only phrase left in her vocabulary now, so she said it over and over as she gripped the sheets. When she finally managed to venture a glance down, Regan was grinning at her. “You’re enjoying this,” she accused.

“You better believe I am,” Regan said, her voice low and husky. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

At her words, Ava felt a rush of wetness and a lump in her throat, and she groaned as she dropped her head back to the pillow and ground her hips into the mattress.

“What do you want?” Regan asked softly. “Tell me what you want.”

Ava wasn’t a talker in bed. She never had been. Hell, she wasn’t even much of a talker in life. But she was going to burst into flames and end up nothing but a pile of ashes in this very comfortable bed in Chef Liza Bennett-Schmidt’s mansion if she didn’t get release. Like, now. And if she was being honest, telling Regan what she wanted, verbalizing it, felt sexy somehow. She lifted her head.

Regan was smiling at her from between her legs, and Ava could feel her thumbs rubbing slowly up and down on either side of her center, keeping her arousal high—God, so high. She swallowed and her voice was hoarse, gravelly as she said, “I want your mouth on me. I want your mouth. Please.”

“Ask and you shall receive,” Regan said back, then lowered her head.

The first touch of her tongue was like heaven. Like angels singing. Like sunshine bursting through clouds. And Ava groaned, good Lord did she groan. Loud and long, as pure unadulterated pleasure began in her center and blossomed out into the rest of her body. It was like a switch had been flipped, heating her from the inside, letting loose that glorious wave of physical joy that slowly spread and then rushed through her entire body, from the middle of her chest and out to her fingertips and the tips of her toes, and she pushed her hips up off the bed as the orgasm ripped through her.

And the sounds she made!

Who knew she had it in her to make them? Not her. She had no idea that the cries and moans Regan pulled from her were even possible. How did she even know how to make these noises? And then she didn’t care because another wave hit and there was only color exploding behind her eyelids, like fireworks in her mind.

How long did it take her to come down? For her hips to settle back onto the mattress? For her breathing to decrease to something that wasn’t near hyperventilation? For her to be able to swallow and move her fingers and feel her legs?

“Did I black out?” she finally asked, and she could feel Regan chuckling, her head resting against Ava’s thigh.

“I don’t think so? But maybe.”

She covered her eyes with a hand and shook her head, embarrassed. Regan moved, she could feel her weight shift, and then her hand was tugged away from her eyes and Regan’s beautiful blue ones gazed at her.

“Don’t do that,” she whispered. “You were gorgeous, and the fact that I played a part in making you feel that good is the highest of honors. Trust me.”

Ava swallowed, the lump in her throat appearing out of nowhere, and to her horror, she felt her eyes well up. She squeezed them shut and turned her head away. Oh God, was she now that girl? The one who cried after an orgasm?

“An honor,” Regan said again, stressing the word. She settled in next to her, propped her head on an elbow, and stroked Ava’s collarbone with her fingers.

Ava opened her eyes again and met Regan’s gaze, the fingers still stroking her skin. She searched Regan’s eyes, looking for anything—off. Anything that said her words weren’t genuine, that she wasn’t genuine. She found nothing but openness.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey, sexy,” Regan said back, and her smile lit up the room.

* * *

It had been a long time since Regan felt comfortable sleeping with somebody. She wasn’t talking sex, she was talking actual sleeping. She’d gotten used to sleeping alone, so when somebody else was in the bed with her, she tended not to sleep very well, her brain absently wondering at this other presence, extra limbs, too much body heat.

That wasn’t the case with Ava, and she didn’t really understand why. But there was something comforting about being wrapped up in her, about being wrapped around her. She felt warm and safe and content lying next to Ava—and what a weird thing that was to say. You know what else was totally weird—but also totally awesome—to say?

She’d made love to Ava Prescott.

She’d had Ava’s naked, writhing body underneath hers. Ava had begged her for release, then asked if she’d passed out, it was that good. Was Regan pretty pleased with herself? Absolutely. But also, Ava wasn’t a conquest. No, Regan would never—could never—think of her that way. No, Ava was something more. She was something special. Regan just wasn’t sure how special yet.

She had drifted off to sleep, she was pretty sure. And how did she know this? Maybe because she was pulled back up from that gentle slumber by a soft, tingling feeling of pleasure, a slight pulling, a slight tugging, and when she opened her eyes, Ava was propped up next to her with a nipple in her mouth, gently sucking on it.

She had to swallow down the surge of pleasure that threatened to pop out of her throat before whispering, “Well, that’s probably the best way to wake up ever.”

“Yeah?” Ava asked, then moved her hand to the other nipple. “How about this?” And she worked both nipples simultaneously. The rush of wetness to Regan’s center was not subtle, and she pressed her head back into the pillow, because holy shit, it all felt so good.

She sighed out a quiet groan. “That’s…yeah, that’s awesome…”

Ava shifted so her weight was a bit more on Regan and slid a knee between Regan’s legs. “I feel bad that I fell asleep on you, so I thought it was time to make it up to you.” Ava’s voice was low and gravelly, and so fucking sexy that it sent another surge of wet to Regan’s throbbing center.

“I am perfectly okay with that.”

“Yeah?” Ava pushed her knee up into all that wetness, and Regan’s groan was louder. “Oh my. You clearly are okay with that.”

“Uh-huh” was all Regan could manage through her ragged breathing. Her hips began to pick up a rhythm as if they had a mind of their own, and Ava rocked with them, slowly and sensually. Then she shifted from Regan’s nipple to her mouth and kissed her, hard and with intent. It was very clear who was driving this train, and it was not Regan.

She was perfectly okay with that, too.

Ava’s fingers slid between her legs and into the hot wetness there, and oh my God, Regan was shocked the top of her head didn’t blow clean off, the sensation was so intense. Even the simple mental image of Ava’s long fingers stroking her ratcheted her arousal up about a hundred levels. She was enjoying that when Ava pushed her tongue into Regan’s mouth and her fingers into Regan’s center at the same time, and Regan’s entire body felt like it had burst into flames. She grabbed at the back of Ava’s head, trying to pull her in closer, harder, deeper, as she lifted her hips and grabbed Ava’s wrist, trying for the exact same things. She rocked hard, fast, keeping with the rhythm of Ava’s hand, and when Ava added another finger, filling her to capacity, she tumbled over the edge, wrenching her mouth away from Ava’s so she could release the cry that had been building in her chest for what felt like hours but had actually been only minutes. The climax tore through her, tensing all her muscles and filling her with pleasure.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, as her blood stopped racing and she was able to breathe again. “Holy shit.” When she opened her eyes, Ava was smiling down at her, fingers still tucked snugly inside Regan. She wiggled them, and Regan gasped, then laughed softly, reached down, and eased them out. “Holy shit,” she said once more, just to say it again.

“Three holy shits,” Ava said. “I will take that. I will take all of them.”

“Well, you should, because holy shit.” Ava shifted her weight and Regan lifted an arm. Ava tucked herself in so her head was pillowed on Regan’s chest and sighed with what sounded like absolute contentment, and it warmed Regan’s heart. “That was amazing,” she said with quiet awe.

Ava looked up at her. “Agreed. Sorry it took me so long to return the favor.”

Regan shook her head. “No, no. None of that. I didn’t do what I did so I’d get something in return. I did it because you’re gorgeous and I’m stupidly attracted to you. Always have been.”

Ava pushed up onto one arm so she could look down at Regan’s face. “You have?”

Regan laughed softly at the shock clearly etched on Ava’s face. “Um, yeah. Have you seen yourself?”

At that, Ava flushed a pretty pink that Regan could see even in the dim lighting that shone through their open window. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“You seem…surprised. How come? Do you really not understand how beautiful you are?”

Ava’s swallow was audible, and she looked away for a beat before saying, “It’s not really something I was ever focused on. My childhood was…hard. I did my best to keep my head down, get good grades, and keep quiet.” Her gaze met Regan’s. “My dad. He was…hard.”

“I’m sorry,” Regan said, as she tried to imagine her sweet, kind, jovial dad making life hard for her. She couldn’t do it. “That sounds rough.”

Ava lay back down, and Regan got the impression it was so she could speak without Regan’s eyes on hers. “He had some issues. He’d get mad”—Ava snapped her fingers—“like that, so my mom and I just did our best not to piss him off. We weren’t always successful.”

“Did he…hit you?” Regan shook her head then. “You don’t have to tell me that.” She really wanted to know, but because she wanted to know everything about Ava. Everything. She also knew it was none of her business.

“No, he was never physical. But he could be mean.” Ava’s voice had gone very quiet. “My mom was too fat or too skinny or she wore too much makeup or she never wore enough or she didn’t make enough money or she made too much and he felt emasculated. He was never satisfied.” She cleared her throat. “It was the same with me. I dressed like a spinster and nobody would ever look at me or I showed too much skin and how did he raise such a slut. I didn’t get involved in enough extracurricular stuff at school, but then I tried out for softball and got on the team and suddenly I was too masculine and I’d end up a bull dyke. His words, not mine.” She sighed. “I walked on a lot of eggshells growing up.”

“God, it sounds like it. I’m so sorry.” Regan pulled her closer, slightly alarmed by how badly she wanted to protect this woman, to wrap her up and keep her away from all harm. Unrealistic, and also way too soon for that, but she couldn’t help it. She felt it.

She felt Ava’s shrug under her hand. “He’s gone now, so…”

“Gone as in…?”

“He died a few years ago. Heart attack. Not a surprise given how much anxiety he had around everybody and everything in his life.” Her tone was interesting to Regan, like she was trying to shrug it off and act like it was no big deal, but also like that wasn’t the case at all.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need.” Ava blew out a breath and glanced up at her. “The past is the past, right?” And before Regan could answer, Ava kissed her, hard and with purpose, and that was the end of conversation.

Regan was all right with that.