4 #2
Is it weird that I want her to keep telling me off? It’s definitely weird. I don’t know how to respond to any of this. I’m trying not to be too taken with her, but it’s a losing battle.
The next time Ava looks up at me, my eyes dart away quickly. I watch the condensation slip down my ale, not finding any help there. She drops her gaze to the stack of napkins between us as she tips the ale against her mouth.
The silence draws out until her phone buzzes, the screen lighting up. Something in her face falls, her mouth tightening into a line as she reads the text that popped up.
I watch her eyelashes flick as she glances at me, looking me up and down decisively.
“Well, Logan, you can walk me to my car,” Ava says like I’ve earned the right.
It feels like a fucking prize. Even if that prize is as condescending as a little gold star for learning how to play nice. It’s so clear cut and simple, I don’t care.
Ava stands first and heads over to the bar to close out her tab with Sophie. She’s threading her arms through her jacket sleeves by the time I join her.
It might just be that I don’t want this strange calm I feel by talking to her to end this quickly.
I don’t want to go back to walking on eggshells around everyone.
For months, I’ve been gritting my teeth, clutching my self-control with a tight rein.
It’s nice to follow her lead, to let someone else be in control.
She leads me down the parking lot rows to that same beat-up pickup truck with faded lettering that she was driving before.
“I’m glad you came over to talk to me,” I offer uncertainly, and she looks up from unlocking her driver side door, eyebrows raised. “I’ve, uh, been a real dick to a lot of people lately. Some of them don’t deserve it. But you definitely didn’t. And I’m sorry.”
A smile slowly spreads across her face, and there’s a glint in her eye that feels like I’ve found the real prize.
“Well, thank you. That’s all I wanted,” Ava replies, pulling her truck door open, and tossing her purse and her little takeout container into the passenger seat.
Then she takes a step closer to me, leaning against the body of her truck with a throaty little hum. “I’m glad we talked too.”
“Yeah, it was . . . good. It was really good.” I nod and hate how I sound. I want to keep talking to her, but I can’t think of a good reason why.
“I’m sorry I came at you all aggressive, like that. My first thought isn’t always my best thought,” she admits with a sheepish look. “I can be a little impulsive, sometimes.”
I give my head a little shake. “That’s not a bad thing. It’s better to be direct, like that. It can be hard for people to pick up on things.”
Some of her hair catches the wind, and she tucks the strands behind her ear when her scent reaches me.
It’s a layered mix of floral and sweaty from her work, but underneath it all there’s something bright and earthy.
It’s almost addicting to breathe in, and I have to fight the urge to move closer to her, to chase that scent.
Even though she’s smiling at me, I don’t think crowding into her personal space and pressing my face into her neck for a deep, soul-filling breath is a good idea.
I turn my gaze away and automatically find the brewery up on the hill behind her. It haunts me, taunts me, from up high, reminding me always about my family’s drama with the Carrington pack.
I’m too lost in thought to notice Ava stepping into my personal space until she puts a hand on my chest, and suddenly I’m over-aware of every place her body meets mine.
Everything in my vision narrows down to Ava’s large brown eyes, her long eyelashes, the smattering of freckles across her nose. Her eyes are so big and dark I can see the stars in them as her gaze grows soft.
“And this isn’t too direct?” she asks, her voice soft and breathy.
I swallow, looking down at her. There isn’t a whole lot of time to re-run this whole evening and every exchange between us to be able to tell if she’s been flirting with me this whole time.
Was she? No, that couldn’t be it. But here we are, somehow.
The butterflies in my stomach are all having their own panic attacks, separately from my own.
The moment is just big enough for a breath and the thought, god, I’d love to kiss her.
She takes a handful of my shirt, rising up on her toes, and before I can worry too much about the consequences, I let myself tip forward to meet her flushed pink mouth.
Ava tastes bright and sweet, and in seconds I’m lost in the shape of her lips.
She puts her feet between mine, pushing me back against her truck.
She’s intoxicating in a way I’m completely unprepared for.
She drags her teeth over my lower lip and manages to pinch whatever supply of oxygen there is for my brain.
Even when she lands back on her heels, her kiss drags me down, her fingers carding through my hair, her tongue sweeping into my mouth. Her scent clouds my mind as she rakes a hand down my body, finding the edge of my jeans and then single-handedly unbuckling my belt.
She slips her hand into my pants, curling her hand around my cock. A sound escapes me, half a groan smothered against her mouth. She’s so quick, I think if I blink again I will miss whatever she does next.
“Hold on,” I gasp, and only when the kiss breaks can I even think. What am I doing, letting her kiss me like this? We barely know each other, and I have a fiancée waiting for me to patch things up between our families.
Had a fiancée. It’s only been a few hours.
Ava stops, then frowns at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just . . . ” I shake my head, still kind of taken aback by her forwardness, trying to get my thoughts in order. That may be a losing battle with her hand down my pants.
I swallow, and now that the spell that is kissing her has had a moment to wear off, I’m starting to wonder if this is a bad idea. Every little thing about her lights all my nerves up. It all feels so good, I’m convinced it has to be wrong.
I chew the inside of my cheek, looking down at her for a moment. I’m not really sure why this feels too fast. I feel like I haven’t had enough time to get to know her.
Ava looks back at me, her fingers still loosely circled around my cock, patiently waiting to resume.
Her hand feels amazing against my skin, the intensity of her touch when she smells so good makes the pleasure unwieldy.
I feel like I’m getting my first hand job in the back of a movie theater again.
But even as my cock grows harder in her hand, it thickens with something more, that unsteady feeling radiating from deep in my core.
Clearly she knows what she wants, and I don’t wish to get in her way, even if I should.
I don’t think I can bring myself to care.
I haven’t been able to stop fucking things up lately, I’m already in as much trouble as I can be. What’s one more thing on my conscience?
I glance over her shoulder. Thankfully, we’re alone on the street. “. . . Maybe just not right here.”
Ava grins.
“I know a spot,” she says, and lets go of me to get into her truck, waving to me to get in the other side.
Maybe for one more night, I can forget everything else, all the rules I’ve carefully followed, and just let things feel good for a little bit.