by Lynda Aicher
“And?” he prodded when she didn’t go on.
She lifted her hand to grasp his wrist, eyes filling with that same wonder that’d been in her voice. “I fucking loved it.”
His laughter burst free in a wave of shock and his own wonder. What the fuck? He gathered her into a hug, grin huge. “You are something else, Avery.” Something amazing and fresh and so damn dangerous.
Her laughter was muffled against his neck, but he didn’t loosen his hold. He couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he could shove his desire back and do what he had to do. He squeezed his eyes closed, took one long drag of her addicting scent.
He eased back, left a last kiss on her temple and stepped away, hand held out to help her from the table. “We should get going.”
“Oh.” Her eyes went wide. “Of course.” She turned back to him after he helped her with her coat. Her chin was lifted and he had a second to mentally prepare himself before she spoke. “Can we do this again?”
Yes. No. Fuck. He shouldn’t. God, how he shouldn’t. “Next week?”
Her lips pursed. “Friday? I have plans on Saturday.”
Plans? A date? The twinge stuck in his chest, but he refused to acknowledge it. The green bastard did not control him. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said, voice brisker than he’d intended.
Her frown deepened and this time he managed to keep his hands to himself. “Okay.” She tucked her hands in her pockets. “Thank you.”
“This is still just sex,” he responded on reflex. “Just the Boardroom.” But was the repeated reminder for her or himself?
Her sigh was heavy with annoyance. “Did I ask for more?” She blew out a small puff of disgust. “No. I didn’t,” she answered for him. “So you can stop reminding me. It’s just about the sex. I get it.” She opened the door, a sly grin on her face when she looked back. “And it was really damn good tonight.”
She winked and sashayed out the door. His bark of laughter shot through the room before he followed her down the hall.
Avery Fast was going to be the death of him if he wasn’t careful. And he was always careful. Always.
Chapter Thirteen
“Earth to Avery.”
A hand waved in front of Avery’s face. She blinked and jerked away, scowling. “What?” She glared at her friend.
Karen rolled her eyes. “You’ve been in Neverland all morning.”
“I have not.” Her retort was too quick and defensive to ring true, even to her own ears. She sighed, leaning into Karen’s side as they walked. “Sorry. You’re right.”
The sun glared off the water in a welcome burst of vitamin D that baked into her skin and reminded her of why she loved the area so much. Or one of the reasons anyway. The distance from her family was another, one she both relished and mourned. She missed her family, yet she didn’t think she could ever live close to them again.
A warm spring breeze blew off the bay to ruffle Avery’s hair. She tucked it back, only to have it whip across her face a moment later. She weaved through the crowded promenade to a quieter spot near the water and set her reusable grocery bag down. A quick plundering of her purse uprooted a hair band at the bottom. Three loops later, she had her hair under control, if not her emotions.
Karen set her reusable bag next to Avery’s, propped her hip on the railing and eyed Avery. Her sunglasses blocked her eyes, but Avery didn’t need to see them to know she was being scrutinized. Great.
The clang of a streetcar rumbling past on the nearby track drowned out the group of seals barking in the distance. An array of food booths at the farmers’ market scented the air with the spicy tang of burritos, stir fry and a number of other ethnic cuisines. Thankfully, it overrode the murkier fish and seaweed stench from the bay.
Avery turned around to stare at the Bay Bridge where it stretched over the water, purposely ignoring Karen. She wasn’t ready to talk—about anything. There was nothing to talk about. She shook her head, scoffing at her own blind insistence.
“What’s going on?” Karen asked.
“Nothing,” Avery answered automatically. Nothing she could talk about.
“Liar.”
She shrugged. She couldn’t deny that truth. “I’m fine.” She tried to reassure her friend. “Just work stuff.” Sort of. Carson was at her work, and he was driving her crazy.
Karen’s low “hmm” said she wasn’t buying what Avery was dishing out. She turned around to lean back on the railing and scanned the crowd milling through the stalls of the farmers’ market. The local Saturday morning crowd had given way to the tourists as it closed in on noon. They’d wasted time wandering through the booths, enjoying the weather instead of doing their usual grab of items from their favorite vendors.
“You’ve been off for weeks,” Karen prodded. Her tenacity was one of her assets and all too often an annoyance. Like now.
Avery frowned, grateful for her own sunglasses. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Don’t lie to me, bitch.”
“Cunt,” she countered.
“Whore.”
She cringed. The last dig hit too close to her fears even though the lighthearted jibes were ones they’d blasted at each other in the past. Was it wrong to be fucking around with Carson—literally?
She hadn’t lied when she’d said she loved having sex with him. She did. Every hot second of it. But she couldn’t shake that pesky guilt lodged deep from her upbringing.
A family trudged by on the sidewalk in a wave of giggles and cries. The two younger girls wore matching sundresses, their blond pigtails bouncing as they skipped down the sidewalk.
A pang of longing snuck up and kicked Avery in the chest. She shook her head and shoved the stupidity aside. She refused to be one of those women who based her happiness on her fertility. Children wouldn’t make her whole, nor would a husband, even if her mother insisted they would.
Yet her gaze still lingered on the happy unit as the family was swallowed up in the crowd. Thirty didn’t make her ancient by any means. She had years before her eggs shriveled up. What is wrong with me?
“I don’t care what you say,” Karen said, yanking Avery from her thoughts. “Something is going on, and it’s more than just work.”
Avery tipped her head up and basked in the warm slash of sun on her face. Could she confide in Karen? Like the last time, there were parts she could and most that she couldn’t. Not according to that NDA she’d signed. She’d scrutinized every line after Carson had sent her a copy. There was no wiggle room in the terms.
Karen shifted sideways until her arm touched Avery’s in a comforting press. “Does this have anything to do with those sex questions you brought up at the bar last month?”
Last month? It seemed like ages ago.
Avery gave a noncommittal hum along with a small shrug. She’d had four “dates” with Carson since she’d last talked to Karen about this. She’d changed in so many ways since then. At least, she felt different. Wiser in some ways, naïve in others.
“Have you ever had a fuck buddy?” Avery asked, keeping her voice low. She didn’t look at Karen, couldn’t really. She just kept her eyes closed and focused on the sun hitting her face. The sense of disconnect freed her tongue.
“A few,” Karen confided. “You?”
“No.” She couldn’t really classify Carson into that category. He was less and more than that.
“Do you want one?”
Did she? Could she be that carefree sexual woman? “Not really.” She was meeting Carson every week for sex, but he wasn’t her buddy by any stretch of the word. He was pretty much a distant ass at work.
Wrong. She shook her head, wincing. She couldn’t do that to him.
He was normal at work. Professional and distant like he’d been since she’d been hired at Faulkner. She’d gone into this arrangement with her eyes wide-open, and she wasn’t goin
g to blame him for keeping the rules she’d agreed to.
“Can I ask you a question?” Karen said after a moment.
“Sure.”
“Are your parents ultra-conservative or something?”
Avery snorted. “No.” Her head dropped to hang in heavy embarrassment. She couldn’t blame them for her hang-ups either. “Not really. Not in the over-the-top way.” However, their conservative values had managed to mesh their way into her soul. “But they’re very...traditional. My mom didn’t talk about sex—ever. They had a family, worked hard, raised their kids to respect others and value what they had. Sheltered might be the word for them, but they’re not dumb.”
Karen gave a slow nod. “So the exact opposite of my family then?”
Avery smiled, nudging her friend. “I’ve met your mom. She’s not dumb.” Karen’s mother was a respected scientist working on a cure for cancer.
“You’re right,” she conceded. “She’s not. But sex was never taboo. The flower-child still lives beneath her lab coat.”
What would it be like to have zero inhibitions or fears regarding sex? It sounded foolish labeling her issues as fears, given the expectations placed on modern women today, but she had to be honest with herself. They were fears.
The fear of being labeled by others and herself. The fear of shame. The fear of admitting how much she loved everything she was exploring with Carson.
“I wish I had your outlook on sex.” Avery sent a weak smile at Karen, hoping she took her comment in the way she intended. “I just—I want to be—I—” What? What did she want to be? “Crap.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
And that was issue number one.
“Come on.” Avery shoved away from the rail, swiping up her bag before Karen could grill her further. “I need to head home.” She started down the walkway, glancing back when she noticed she was alone.
Karen hadn’t budged. Her hard scowl and crossed arms reminded Avery of a petulant child refusing to move. She could leave her, just keep walking and pretend she wouldn’t stew on their conversation the entire way home.
She was going to do that with or without Karen at her side.
Avery heaved a sigh and returned to her friend, steps heavy. “What?” she bit out.
Karen’s brows winged up behind her sunglasses. The wind ruffled the tiny spikes of her short hair without disturbing its precise styling that was meant to look imprecise. She unfolded her arms, straightening in slow measures that warned of her building retort.
Avery braced for Karen’s takedown, at once mad at herself, yet unable to give in.
“What is going on with you?” Karen’s voice was moderated, concern there but tempered with confusion. It kicked at Avery’s guilt and only added to her own mixed-up thoughts.
Her shoulders dropped, her defenses draining. “I don’t know,” she admitted, letting the defeat in. “I really don’t.” Not about Carson or the sex or what she wanted from either.
Karen stepped closer to wrap an arm around her shoulders. Her side hug was welcomed and comforting when Avery was the one who should be apologizing. She leaned into Karen, taking every ounce of strength she could absorb.
“Something’s got you wrapped up inside,” Karen said. “And that usually means there’s a man involved.”
Avery’s snort was harsh and cutting. She squeezed her eyes closed and shoved back the derision that tried to bite at her. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing.
“And,” Karen went on, “based on your recent round of questions, I’m going to guess it has something to do with sex.”
Ding, ding, ding. She got it in one. “So much for my stealth questions,” Avery snarked.
“Oh, sweetie. There was nothing stealth about them.”
She sighed, accepting the truth. “I’m freaking thirty years old and can’t talk about sex without stumbling over my own inhibitions. God, that’s so pathetic.”
“To whom?” Karen asked. “The nun or the hooker?”
Avery frowned, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Who gets to judge your feelings?” Karen was completely serious. “You have a right to feel whatever you do. And,” she added, lifting her finger to make the point, “the only judgment that counts is your own. So don’t be too hard on yourself.”
Avery held in her snort for a moment, proud that she managed that before it burst out. She slammed her fist over her mouth, her laugh bubbling behind it. “Is that your mother talking?”
Karen sniffed, chin lifting. She glared at Avery in fake affront before relenting with a shrug and smile. “Maybe. But it’s true,” she added. “I told you before, as long as you own your wants and feelings, no one can make you feel badly about them.”
Was it really that simple?
A sneaky, dirty smile slid over her lips as she gave Karen the side-eye. “But my wants are very, very dirty.” She waggled her brows, another laugh bursting free a moment later.
“Do tell.” Karen grabbed her bag and looped her arm through Avery’s as they started to walk. “And don’t skimp on the details.”
A secret smile formed in Avery’s chest and wormed its way to her face. The giddy lightness that popped up whenever she thought about her evenings with Carson bloomed to flutter in her stomach.
She ducked her head, peeked at Karen. “I’ve been seeing someone.” She waited a beat, then added, “For sex.”
Karen whipped her head around. “What? Wait.” She came to a stop, forcing people to scurry around them. She grabbed Avery’s arm. “Like how seeing?” She scanned the area, leaned in. “Are you paying for it?”
“No!” The denial shot from her on an annoyed shout. “Why would you think that?”
“Hey.” Karen held her hand up in apology. “There’s nothing wrong with it if you are.”
“I’m not!” Avery shoved forward, dodging between people until she was free of the market crowd. Her speed accelerated when she hit open pavement, her annoyance driving her faster.
“Avery.” Karen grabbed her arm. “Come on.” She slowed, forcing Avery to do the same. “I didn’t mean anything by that.” Avery faced her, scowl firmly in place. “Honestly.” Karen shrugged, an impish smile growing. “I might’ve asked for their information if you were.”
“Oh my God.” Avery rolled her eyes, unable to maintain her anger. “Like you’d ever need to do that.”
“Who knows?” She shrugged again. “There’s still plenty I haven’t experienced.” She started walking, and Avery paced her. “So tell me about these liaisons.”
A part of Avery had hoped Karen would let the subject go, but a bigger side of her wanted to share. Not everything. Just enough to let the giddy out.
“Well...” She bit her lip and shot Karen a secretive glance. “He’s been helping me explore a few fantasies.” Her laugh trickled out at Karen’s shocked expression. One that quickly morphed to interest.
“Really?” Speculation dominated the word. “Are you going to share the details?”
“No.” Warmth raced up Avery’s neck, and she couldn’t blame it on the sun. “But I can tell you it’s been amazing.” Beyond it, really. She inhaled, a rush of desire and want stirring in her chest. “Really, really good.”
“Now I do want the details,” Karen insisted.
Avery shook her head. “I can’t. Seriously,” she added when she saw the doubt on Karen’s face. “I’m—” Saying the truth would only bring up more questions. “It’s just sex,” she said instead, trying to sound casual. “We’re not buddies or anything.” Not out of the Boardroom at least.
“Who is he?” Karen frowned. “Or is it a she?”
“It’s a he.” A handsome, sexy, confident, strong, kind he. One she was becoming attached to when she shouldn’t. No, couldn’t.
“So, what’s wrong?”
They waited
for the crosswalk signal to change and wove through the oncoming swarm to the other side. What was wrong? Avery pondered that, knowing exactly what was wrong.
“I like it too much,” she admitted once they cleared the street.
“The sex?” Karen’s incredulous tone said exactly how crazy she thought that was. “How is that a problem?”
Avery ducked her head to avoid the startled double-take from a woman passing by. “Shhh,” she admonished her friend, smacking her arm. “Not everyone is as open as you.”
Karen glanced around, shrugged. “Sorry?”
“No you’re not.”
“True.” Her unapologetic smirk was exactly why Avery loved her so much.
She shifted her bag on her shoulder and tucked a lock of escaped hair behind her ear. “I can’t get attached,” she said, returning to their discussion. “It’s a huge no-strings arrangement.”
“Oh.” Karen tipped her head, lips pursing. “And that’s not working for you, right?”
Her snort was soft and derisive. “Yeah.” It both helped and didn’t that Karen understood without her having to explain. “I thought I could do it. I want to. God, how I want to.”
“Avery,” Karen started, her name filled with gentle patience. “You adopted both of your cats within two minutes of seeing them in the adoption crates at the pet store.”
“But they were so cute,” she defended.
“And how long did you stay at that call center job you hated because you didn’t want to leave the manager in a bad spot?”
Way too long. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Karen turned to her when they came to their bus stop. Her smile was warm and just a little sympathetic. “You get attached.” Avery scowled. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” her friend rushed on. “In fact, it’s a wonderful attribute. It makes you loyal and kind when so many of us—” she pointed to herself “—are detached from everything.”