3. AVA
AVA
Eyes Open
His penthouse is exactly what I expect: floor-to-ceiling windows and minimal furniture, pale tones broken up by darker, masculine accents.
There's no art on the walls except one black-and-white photo of the team mid-celebration, sticks raised.
The only personal thing in the entire place.
Everything is the expected quality. Nothing is excessive.
But despite how simple everything looks, the liIving room is screaming money. I force myself not to calculate how much everything costs. I do the math on the throw pillows anyway, hating myself a little for it.
Taking a deep breath, I wring my hands together, eyes looking away.
He closes the distance between us. His hand finds my chin, tilts my face up.
“Are you nervous?”
I chuckle. There’s no good answer to that. Saying no would be a lie. And saying yes can change the way things go down tonight.
"Last chance to change your mind," he says.
"I don't want to change my mind."
“Right answer.”
He kisses me. My hands fist in his shirt and he makes a low sound against my mouth.
"Bedroom," I manage, mouth still against his.
"Eventually."
“Eventually can go to hell.”
I want to tell him that I didn't come here for slow and sensual. I came to get laid and go home before my brain catches up with my body.
He backs me into the wall, sucking my lower lip, one hand sliding up the side of my dress. I arch into it, nails scraping the back of his neck.
The sound he makes almost pulls a groan out of me.
Almost.
Because Kai is just a hockey player I want to fuck. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s not making love to me. This is a simple one-night stand.
He takes a condom from his wallet then removes his suit jacket and throws it to the floor. I unbutton his shirt, pull it off him. His hand finds the zipper of my dress then drags it down.
By the time the dress hits the floor and I kick it away, he's looking at me the way he looked at the lounge earlier tonight.
My hands work his belt while his mouth sucks me in a way that turns my knees into jelly.
“Let’s ditch the condom and go skin-to-skin,” I breathe. “I’m on the pill, and I’ve been tested. I’m clear.”
One eyebrow raises. Without answering, he puts the condom on.
Fine. Be responsible. See if I care.
I care a little. Because the silent insistence on the condom despite what I offered is so annoyingly mature it makes me want him more.
Then he drives into me hard again and again. I pull his butt to me each time, swallowing my cries, kissing him when I can’t hold it in.
I block out everything except our skin slapping against each other, the rough catch of his breath against mine.
And it’s so fucking perfect.
But Kai stops. He’s still inside me, but he’s no longer moving. Instead, he gives me a quizzical look.
“What’s wrong?”
I smile. “Nothing. The sex is perfect.”
Everything is happening the way it should. I’m having passionate sex without any emotions.
I’ve always had the problem of associating sex with deep emotions and getting high-strung after. The more sounds I made while in bed, the deeper I buried myself.
But now that I’ve stripped away all that and focused on just the satisfaction, I’m good. Not affected at all by the way he's watching my face right now like it matters.
Kai’s mouth on my neck makes me inhale sharply. Sharp tingles of desire flow into my body. I barely stop myself from gasping in time.
The pressure on my neck increases. His hands caress my sides as he resumes driving me hard until I come.
I don’t know when a scream comes out of my mouth. My palm covers my lips, stifling it halfway.
Kai goes completely still, his eyes boring into mine.
“That's the problem.”
“What are you talking about?” I huff.
“Are you afraid to scream for me?” His voice is sultry. “Your face says you want to, but you stop yourself each time.”
“Can you make me scream for you? You’ll fail,” I retort.
No, no, no. That’s not what I meant. I’m barely holding it together here.
A wicked smile appears on his face.
“I’ve already made you scream,” he says, slamming into me
Pleasure fills me.
“You’re just hiding it.”
Another slam.
I grit my teeth. The plan was working fine a few seconds ago. It isn’t anymore. My body and mouth are not obeying my wishes tonight.
Kai continues torturing me in this way until he comes.
Luck’s on my side because I found new ways to prevent myself from gasping; kissing him, biting his neck, gripping his arm hard and placing my head on his shoulder.
Now that this is over, I should say goodbye and go home.
Should.
The only problem is I’m still on the wall with Kai inside me. He’s frowning deeply, lines creasing his forehead.
He slowly pulls out of me only to find out that the condom has broken.
“Shit!” he says, glancing from the broken condom to me.
I shrug, unconcerned.
“Relax. I already told you I’m on the pill. There’s nothing to worry about.” My arm goes round his neck, pulling him into a quick kiss. “Round two, captain, or are we done being dramatic about it?”
He’s quiet for a long time. Finally, he speaks:
“I’ve already spilled my seed inside you. What’s one more time?” His tongue licks my neck, my cheeks, stopping short at my lips. “You’ll scream for me in every way possible, Ava. And you’ll enjoy doing it.”
That’s exactly what I don’t want to do.
But I don’t tell him to stop. My stupid hormones take over.
“You’re just bluffing. You can’t do anything.” I bite his nose. “I challenge you to make me scream.”
A glint appears in his eyes. “Hmm.”
He carries me to the bedroom, places me gently on the bed like he's got nowhere else in the world to be. Like the whole night has been leading to exactly this and he intends to take his time proving it.
I expect fast. I came here for the kind of frantic heat that asks nothing of you except to enjoy it and leave asap.
What I get instead is his mouth moving down my stomach with a deliberateness that makes me forget how to breathe right. His hands pin my hips when I try to chase more.
His voice is low and rough against my skin telling me to slow down, that we have time, that he wants to feel me get there instead of rushing me to the finish.
Nobody has ever wanted to watch me get there before.
His mouth finds my neck. My shoulder. My collarbone.
“Scream for me, Ava.”
“I…”
I press my lips together, glare at him. I’m not screaming your name or anything like that.
"You're awfully sure of yourself," I manage.
He takes his time sucking, teasing my body with his fingers.
My breath becomes more ragged, my control slipping. I squirm because I want the wild version where we just fuck, then I go home and we never speak about it again.
His hand slides between my legs. I'm already wet for him, which he discovers with a low sound of satisfaction.
I almost answer with a groan of my own.
His finger traces my opening. My hips roll around his finger.
“Do you want my fingers inside you?”
Yes!
But I only manage a nod. If I open my mouth, I’ll make one of those other sexual sounds of pleasure. Then the last brick in my very carefully constructed emotional wall will come crashing down.
Kai’s finger slides inside. He curls it.
I gasp.
He smiles. “That’s it. Release all of it and scream.”
A second finger joins the first. He moves his hand in a rhythm that's making it hard to think.
My hips arch off the bed.
I’m losing control. I can’t even stop myself from making any sound because another gasp comes from my mouth without permission.
Congratulations, Ava. You're losing a fight against your own vocal cords. Very on-brand.
He removes his fingers and places his lips on mine. This kiss is deeper, more intentional. His free hand slides into my hair, holding me in place, like he wants me to feel every part of what's happening.
I make the last attempt to turn this into what I expected: fast, disconnected, purely physical. I reach for him, pull him closer, try to move things along.
He pulls back enough to look at me.
"You're running," he says.
"I'm not…"
“You are. You want to do it fast and end it.”
I open my mouth to deny it. Can't.
His expression softens. He lowers his forehead to mine.
"Can we just do this?" he asks. "Can you just be here?"
The quiet sincerity of his voice makes me stop trying to escape. I nod.
He takes his time after that. When he finally settles his body over mine, he stops long enough to push the hair back from my face, like it matters more than the ache he's built inside me.
“Keep your eyes open,” he says.
"Why?"
"Because I want to watch you."
He slides into me with a maddening slow pace.
The contact is electrifying, making all my nerve endings come alive.
“This is so beautiful,” he says.
He's right. I hate that he's right,
Then he's not moving. He's just inside me.
We're looking at each other. And I feel completely exposed in a way that has nothing to do with nudity.
When he eventually moves, it's slow and thorough. His thrusts are deep, deliberate. His hand finds mine, laces our fingers together. He presses our joined hands into the mattress beside my head.
"Look at me," he says.
I do.
"Stay with me."
I think he means right now in this moment.
But my brain has forgotten every form of speech.
I can only nod and hold onto him as he rocks into me, building a rhythm that feels less like sex and more like conversation. His breathing gets heavier. My hips start meeting his.
"That's it," he murmurs into my neck. "Let me feel you."
I stop holding back. Start letting the pleasure move through me.
He watches like it's the hottest thing that's ever happened to him, watches like my expressions matter more than his own release.
A gasp leaves my mouth. Then a sound of pleasure. Then another.
Every time I try to hide my breath catching, he chases it out of me, murmuring against my throat that I don't have to hold anything back. Not tonight with him. The worst part is I believe him enough to stop trying.
When I come, it's not controlled. It's me screaming, my fingers digging into his shoulders and my whole body clenching around him.
He follows seconds later with a gasp, his rhythm breaking, his breath catching, his body going tight before he empties himself inside me. He stays there for a while, his weight on me, his mouth against my temple.
When he finally rolls to the side, he pulls me with him, tucks me against his chest. I'm lying here in his bed with his arm around me, his heartbeat under my ear.
This is not what I signed up for.
The sex was supposed to be casual.
It wasn’t meant to feel important.
Kai’s asleep within minutes. The sleep of someone who's satisfied and unburdened.
I lie awake in the dark, studying his face in the ambient light from the city outside. My fingers trace the tattoos on his arm.
His features are softer when he's not conscious, more vulnerable. His broken nose is more prominent from this angle. There's a scar along his jawline I didn't notice before.
I need to be careful here. I need to put space between us.
Wanting someone like Kai is easy. It's the staying that gets dangerous.
But that means nothing the second his arm settles over my waist like it's done this a hundred times before. I turn my back to him, pulling his arm tighter around me.
Tonight, I'll let myself have this.
Tomorrow, I'll pretend I didn’t.
Because sex with Kai is a one-time thing. Nothing more.