Chapter 28
Cassidy
She’s my home
It's finally happening—my first official date with Avery. Anxiety and excitement are two boxers circling each other, waiting to see who throws the first punch. I find myself checking the clock frequently.
This morning was fucking hot. It took all of my willpower not to devour her completely.
The way she pressed against my body felt like two magnets finally coming together.
Just thinking about it gets me hard. My hand moves towards my dick to release the growing pressure when the sound of my phone pings with an incoming text.
I open the text excitedly, thinking it's from Avery, only to have my heart stop beating. No matter how many times this fucker texts me, my anxiety spikes every time. This time though, I’m ballsy enough to text back.
Unknown: *image* You know you wanna get fucked up. You think you’re done with this shit? Once a junkie always a junkie.
Me: What the fuck do you want from me?
Unknown: Guess you’ll find out soon enough.
What the fuck? I’m pissed that this fucker keeps texting me.
I’m even more pissed at myself for my mouth involuntarily salivating when I saw the needle in the picture.
I’ve done so much work on myself, yet the sight of a fucking needle has me fighting a craving I hoped I’d never have again.
Whoever this is seems to know this and finds new ways to contact me, no matter how many times I block the previous number.
My gut feeling is that I know who this is, but I just can’t put my finger on it.
The sound of an alarm blaring startles me into the current moment.
Shit, I have thirty minutes to get ready.
How did the time fly by so quickly and why can’t I remember anything in the last half hour or so?
I make my way to the closet in search of the perfect outfit for tonight.
While sifting through every option, I notice my hands are shaky with nerves.
I’ve been on many first dates in my lifetime, but never while sober and never with Avery.
Everything has to be absolute perfection tonight, as she deserves nothing but the best. My hand brushes a silky, emerald button-down shirt and plain, black dress pants.
The shirt matches the color of her eyes, making my decision on what to wear easy.
I take the quickest shower of my life and race against the clock to finish getting ready.
I’m ready to go and realize only fifteen minutes have passed.
I sit down and focus on some breathing techniques my therapist taught me to help reduce my anxiety levels.
After a few minutes, my heart rate has slowed and my breathing is more regulated.
Before heading downstairs, I give myself a once-over in the mirror to ensure everything is in place.
I am halfway out the door when I realize the flowers I picked for Avery earlier today are still sitting on the table.
I run back inside, grab them, then bolt out the door.
When we were kids, Avery always gravitated toward the wild lavender lilies that grew in between our houses.
I knew I needed to pick some for her. As I approach her door, my heart is beating so fast I’m surprised it hasn’t jumped out of my chest. I take a calming breath to steady my nerves. Flowers in hand, I knock on her door.
“Come in. The door’s open,” Avery says.
I open the door, not sure what I expect to see.
“Avery, you really should lock this door.
What if I was—" The rest of my words fall away and I stare.
In front of me stands this goddess of a woman in a stunning black dress.
Her wavy hair brushes over one shoulder in the most beautiful and sexy way.
My gaze roams her face, noticing her eyes have this gold dust stuff across her eyelids that brings out her green eyes with such intensity I lose my balance.
Her full, pouty lips are painted blood-red.
My throat goes dry as my eyes travel down her body.
The flowers fall to the floor with a soft thud.
My eyes land on her thigh, exposed by the slit in her dress that travels so high that one wrong move and I will see everything underneath.
My eyes continue their journey down her body, and on her feet are these extremely high heels that as red as her lips.
The second my eyes land back on her face, my feet move swiftly on their own accord. I slam her up against the wall. Her wild eyes are the invitation I need to lean in, but her words stop me.
“Can I ask you for a favor?” Avery’s hesitation piques my interest.
“Anything,” I reply, hoping she’ll allow me to continue.
“Can you do that thing you did earlier today with your hand?” My throat goes dry and my face grows hot.
“What thing?” I ask, feigning innocence. “You mean this?” I take my hand in hers, dragging it down my body towards my dick and pressing her hand against it. She grips it in her hand, but shakes her head.
“Was it when I touched you here?” My hands travel to her hips, gripping with gentle pressure. She bites her lower lip and shakes her head again.
“Then what do you want me to do with my hand, Avery?” My voice comes out rough and raspy.
“I think you know what I want, Cas,” she whines, tone laced with desperation.
“I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you beg for it,” I whisper.
“Put your hand on my neck and choke me like you did this morning. Please?” Avery begs, catching me off guard and stealing my breath. Who knew that underneath the innocent girl exterior is someone with a freaky side. As much as I want to do all these things to her, I remind myself to slow down.
“I will gladly do it, but baby?” I ask.
“Hmmm?” She peers up at me from under her long, dark lashes.
I slowly lean in to whisper in her ear. “Take my hand and place it there yourself,” I demand.
Avery’s eyes widen. I start to think that maybe I pushed it too far, but then her hand moves up and covers mine.
There’s a brief hesitation, but what she does next has me wanting to screw the date.
Just throw her over my shoulder and have my way with her.
Avery places my hand on her exposed thigh and slowly glides it up her body.
Her skin is silky smooth, I just want to sink my teeth into her thigh.
Her black dress is as smooth as her skin as I feel it bunch underneath our hands.
Avery is fully in charge here, making me want to get on my knees and worship her.
My hand beneath hers moves painstakingly slow.
She wants me to feel every inch of her and she knows it’s killing me.
My hand finds her breast and I pause to squeeze it, noticing her head falling back, exposing her sexy as-sin throat.
She only allows me to linger at her breast for a few seconds before my hand finally comes in contact with her throat.
“Cas, please,” she begs me a second time.
That's all the invitation I need. My mouth comes down hard on hers, our teeth and tongues colliding and crashing into each other. Avery’s salted caramel taste mixes with my coffee aftertaste, the perfect combination of bitter and sweet.
A perfect metaphor for who we are individually and how well we complement one another.
We stay locked in that moment, my hand sitting still on her neck as we kiss.
She pulls my bottom lip into her mouth, biting and tugging with enough force that the hand that's placed on her neck squeezes in response.
It sends her reeling. Her hand moves down my body too quickly for me to stop her, not that I wanted her to.
She slips her hand inside my pants, an amazing feat considering the tension and hardness from my arousal has made my pants extremely tight.
I assumed she would do what she did last time, sliding her hand up and down me.
The second Avery’s hand dips into my underwear and squeezes my painfully hard dick, my hips involuntarily thrust into her hand.
The sensation of her warm hand stroking and squeezing feels so good that I almost don’t notice the pressure of my hand on her neck increasing.
That sends her flying even higher, increasing her pace and causing enough friction to start a fire.
I totally lose sight of where I am and what our plans are, but the feeling of me being close to coming snaps me back to reality.
I pull my lips back from hers and loosen my grip on her neck.
Her hand is still gripping me, but her stroking has stopped.
Both of us stare at each other, gasping for air.
I can only imagine her heart beating as fast as my own.
I look at Avery, my sweet, innocent goofball with a wild side and a take-charge attitude.
Her hand still cups me. I place my hand on her wrist to try to remove it, but her squeeze only tightens, causing me to close my eyes.
I let out a slow and steady breath, hoping to cool my body down. “Avery, sweetheart, you are killing me right now.”
“I know,” she answers so confidently, it borders on cocky.
“You have no idea how much I want to take you right here, but I promised you a date and I’m following through,” I say.
She sighs and playfully rolls her eyes. “Fine, we can go on this date, but when we get home, you better be prepared to continue where we left off,” she says, finally backing away and taking the warmth with her. I miss it already.
She bites her lip, her smile sinister. She seems very satisfied knowing I’m still hard as a rock. I, on the other hand, am far from satisfied. I quickly adjust myself, hoping to avoid public humiliation.
“Let’s go before—"
“Are those for me?” she asks.
“Hmm? Are what for you?” I ask, slightly confused. Then look down to where she is pointing. Oh shit, the flowers! I completely forgot about those.
“Shit, yeah, sorry! Meant to give those to you, but uh, I got distracted.” I lean down to pick them up and notice that many of the petals are either smashed or broken.
“Well, they were supposed to be for you, but they seem squished and ripped now. I’m sorry, I can get you new ones and promise not to drop them.
” I attempt to move past her to throw them away, but her hand on my wrist stops me.
I look up to see her eyes shimmer with unshed tears.
“Cas, I—no one has ever brought me flowers before,” she says before looking at me, blinking rapidly. Way to go, Cas. You made her cry. I reach my hand out to comfort her, but she stops me.
“Damn it, Cas, are you trying to make me look like a raccoon? I need a minute to blink away the tears so my make up stays put,” she says. What does she mean, no one’s ever bought her flowers? Have they seen how Avery looks?
“I don't understand how no one has ever bought you flowers?” I say, dumbfounded.
“Well, I, uh—I've never really been with long enough for them to get me flowers before,” she says, looking away with sudden shyness. Her first confession shocked me, but this one floors me.
“Avery, how is that even possible? I mean, look at you. Not only are you breathtakingly beautiful, but you have a heart of gold that any man would be lucky to have. I find it hard to believe that anyone lucky enough to date you wouldn't want to do so seriously,” I say with slight irritation.
“They didn’t have a problem getting serious. It was me,” she says, looking up at me with vulnerability filling her eyes. Time stands still at her statement and my body feels like a statue.
What could she possibly mean by it was her?
There’s nothing wrong with her. Why on Earth would she think that she’s the problem?
A sharp pain radiates from my hands and that’s when I notice my hands are balled into fists.
Breathe, Cas. The warmth of her hands over mine brings me back to her.
My mouth opens, ready to tell her how special she is, but she shakes her head.
“There was only one person I wanted to get serious with,” she says, and if I wasn't already head over heels in love with this woman, this would have done it for me.
I blow out a slow breath to calm my racing heart before bringing my hands to her shoulders and pressing a quick kiss against her forehead.
“There is only one person I want to get serious with, too,” I tell her before pulling her into a hug, desperately needing comfort. Her cheek rests on my chest while mine rests atop her head. Being in her arms feels safe.
“As much as I want to stay here with you like this, we should probably get going.” I reluctantly pull out of Avery’s arms, grab her coat off the rack, and place it on her shoulders.
Her fingers interlace with mine as we make our way toward my car.
Something she said earlier hits me. When we get home.
That single statement sends comfort throughout my body and pleasant warmth in my chest. Avery is my home, and I will do everything in my power to prove to her that I can be hers, too.