Chapter 19 #2
“Finally, he comes home,” she says, pinching my cheeks, which is hilarious at her five-foot-two height to my six-four, but I let her anyway.
My height comes from my father’s side. Her dark brown hair is up in some intricate twist, and her ears drip in diamonds—a new gift from my father, I assume.
She’s dressed in a deep green dress that shows off her olive skin.
My heart warms at the sight of her smiling and having a good day. I let her give me one more hug.
“Kane, you remember the girls. Girls, my son, whom I must beg to visit home nowadays.” She scolds me, pulling me slightly to the side, away from her group after a chorus of hellos.
“I’ve been busy, Mom.” I exhale, knowing I won’t be able to get away with that excuse for long.
It’s not that I don’t love my mother and wish I could see her more.
Things have always been unpredictable with her.
One day, she’s a loving and involved mother, and the next she’s defending and siding with my father.
She would shield me from his worst moods, putting herself in the line of fire, but at the end of the day, she always stayed with him no matter what he put us through.
My brain has a hard time reconciling both sides of her: the dutiful mother and his sidekick.
“You look handsome. And tired,” she muses, placing her hand on my cheek, then my forehead, as if she’s checking my temperature. “And where is Avery? It has been ages since we’ve seen her too.”
“She’s coming. She had to be at work late, so she decided to just meet me here.” My gaze moves toward the front of the living room inside to see if she’s arrived yet. My heart falls a bit when I don’t see her. The urge to check my phone in my pocket is strong.
“Oh, Mary, wait!” my mom says, abandoning our conversation as she hurries after her friend.
I let out a breath and take a drink of my whiskey as I pull out my phone, but there’s nothing from Avery.
Sighing, I lock my phone and slide it back into my pocket, then take another strong pull from my drink.
The whiskey is smooth as it slides down, missing the burn I’m used to from the stuff at the bar.
I debate whether to call her when I glance up, and there she is. The world starts to fade a bit as I catch an eyeful of her.
Her long dark hair spills down and curls softly around her face.
Light makeup highlights her features, and red lipstick draws attention to her delectable lips.
I almost groan at the sight of them, the bold red against her pale skin.
The stark contrast of colors makes her stand out in any room she’s in.
I take a minute to drink her in, unashamed since she hasn’t seen me yet, as she talks to one of my mother’s friends, whom I’m sure she’s met dozens of times over the years at these things.
She wears a tight-fitted black dress that flows down to the floor, with a dangerous-looking slit coming up her left side that makes my heart stumble at the sight of her creamy pale thigh peeking through.
I want to follow that trail of freckles that goes up her inner thigh with my tongue.
There are thin straps across her shoulders, with her small but full breasts just peeking through the top, a sight I couldn’t miss. She wears black heels that give her a couple more inches, and before I realize it, my legs are moving toward her.
I set my half-finished glass on a tray carried by a server quickly passing by and continue my stride until I reach her side. She tucks her long locks behind her ear with a radiant smile on her face as she listens to the group around her.
I almost trip at the sight of it. She’s laughing at some joke from some golden-haired douche clearly attempting to move in on his next conquest.
I slide up to her, and my hand slips around her waist, pulling her against me.
The feel of her plump ass sends haywire signals to my brain.
I grip her body even tighter into mine until she’s completely molded into me.
I hear her sharp intake of breath, too small to be heard by anyone else.
Wide eyes peer up at me before she hides her surprise with a quick smile.
I dip down and lay a kiss on her forehead, not wanting to push things too fast, but loving the feel of her too much to let go.
“Avery,” I greet.
The world fades away as I stare into those baby blue eyes, softly lined with black and framed by her long lashes.
“Kane.” Her soft voice is husky as she peers at me over her shoulder, the top of her head coming up to my chin. Her heels give me a better view of her face.
“How was work?” I ask as I turn her around with my hands and settle both palms on her hips, effectively cutting us off from their conversation. She raises one eyebrow at me, asking without words why I’m behaving this way.