Chapter 18 #2
I reach for her, one hand curling around her hip, yanking her out of Wes’ grip and flush against me. She goes boneless, arms sliding around my neck, eyes wide but not scared.
“You want a demonstration?” I murmur, dipping my head so the words are for her alone, my mouth just brushing the shell of her ear.
She grins, turning so her lips are inches from mine. “I want you to stop being a coward.”
I bark a laugh, and then I’m done holding back. My hand catches her jaw, tilting her face to mine as I close the distance.
The kiss isn’t gentle. It’s deliberate, possessive.
A fucking claim. My teeth nip at her lower lip, and her tongue meets mine with equal force.
There’s nothing tentative about the way she responds, no hesitation.
Just heat and hunger and the unmistakable shift of her body molding closer, like she’s been waiting for this.
For me.
The noise of the room dulls at the edges, the press of bodies around us fading into something distant as her fingers tighten at the back of my neck.
When I pull back, it’s slow, controlled, even though every part of me wants to go further.
Her lipstick is smudged, her lips swollen, eyes heavy-lidded as she gazes up at me.
“Later,” I promise, and she actually pouts.
Just for a second.
Then it’s gone, replaced with that same playful edge as before as she twists out of my hold and turns straight into Wes, rising on her toes to kiss him.
His hands come up immediately to grip her waist, pulling her in close. Their kiss is different– slow, almost tender, like he’s trying to anchor her instead of consume her.
Ford doesn’t let it last long. He cuts in with a laugh, hooking her arm and spinning her out of Wes’ grip, dipping her low with a maniacal grin. She clutches at his shirt to steady herself, and when he kisses her, it’s sharp and reckless, all teeth and savagery.
The music swells around us, the bass vibrating up through the floor.
The air is humid, sweat-slicked bodies moving closer and people giving up any pretense of restraint.
It’s almost midnight, and the energy in here is turning feral, co-eds shamelessly grinding or making out in corners, not even pretending to care if anyone’s watching.
I catch Ava by the wrist, pulling her cleanly out of Ford’s hold and back into mine. She’s flushed, a little wild-eyed, the glitter from her shirt now smeared onto her chest.
She presses up against me, breathing hard. “What’s next?”
“Upstairs,” I say, not even hesitating.
I scoop her up by the ass and she laughs, legs wrapping around my waist. Ford and Wes fall in behind us, and the crowd parts again, noise following in our wake. Cheers, whistles, the low hum of people who think they know exactly what they’re about to witness.
They don’t.
We take the stairs two at a time, the energy shifting with every step, the chaos of the party bleeding off the higher we go. By the time we reach the loft balcony, the noise below feels distant.
I drop Ava onto the couch, then turn to Wes. “Get her some water. She’s gonna need it.”
He disappears into the interior of the loft without argument, returning a moment later with a bottle.
He takes a seat on the sofa next to Ava, and she flops sideways onto his lap, twisting off the cap on the water and chugging half of it.
Her lipstick is mostly gone now, but when she presses a kiss to Wes’ jaw in gratitude, it still leaves a faint mark behind.
Her gaze lifts, moving between the three of us. “Are you guys just going to stare, or…?
Ford drops onto the couch next to her, his thigh pressing against hers like he’s already decided where he belongs. “You ready to ditch the party, Ava baby?”
She laughs, a little giddy, still riding the high she built on the dance floor. “Almost.”
Wes sets the water bottle aside and wraps an arm around her waist, drawing her fully into his lap. Ford’s hand ghosts up her thigh, and I sink down onto the couch on her other side, crowding her in.
She doesn’t flinch. If anything, she leans into it, her eyes darting between the three of us like she’s daring us to fight over her.
Then she turns in Wes’ lap, straddling him, and kisses him hard.
Her fingers tangle in his hair, yanking him closer.
Ford slides a hand under her skirt as he watches them, and I hear her breath hitch as he traces up the inside of her thigh.
Not to be outdone, I lean in and bite the side of her neck, leaving a mark.
She moans low in her throat, and the sound makes my cock throb. Ford looks over at me, eyes wild, mouth split in a grin.
“You’re gonna make a scene, Doll,” he teases, voice gone rough.
She breaks away from Wes, eyes a little dazed and unfocused. “Isn’t that the whole point?”
“Not here,” I growl, pushing to my feet and offering Ava a hand.
She eyes it for a second, then looks up at me like a deer in the headlights.
For a second, everything stops.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Then she places her hand in mine and lets me pull her up. Lets me lead her through the door into the loft, away from the noise and prying eyes.
Ava Morrow might not know it, but she’s always been mine.
From the first moment I met her– two kids, thrown together by circumstance– I felt it. Something I didn’t have words for back then. Something I couldn’t touch, couldn’t claim. It didn’t matter, because I still knew.
Back then, it was just a feeling. Sharp and instinctive, a recognition I couldn’t explain or act on or even understand. But now? Now I do.
She’s mine. To own, to break, to ruin.
And I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of it.