by Bella Grant
Chapter 12
Ava
Ava was alone in the sparkling white space. Everything around her gleamed with a light of its own—the polished wood beneath her feet, the white-and-gray marbled countertops, the silver appliances, the glittering windows. She leaned across the kitchen island to inhale the sweet scent of the pink roses and smiled to herself as the soft, floral scent filled her nose.
I’m dreaming, she thought. There is no way this is real. She moved through the rooms in a daydream, leaving the small, immaculate kitchen where they had entered from the side door by the pool, wandering into the perfect white living room with built-in bookcases, a flat screen TV, oriental rugs, and brass floor lamps. She took a moment to absorb everything around her, staring in wonder at the space that, until she woke up from this perfect fantasy, was hers.
Finally, Ava entered the bedroom, where she found a large bed with an overstuffed, white comforter and downy pillows, beckoning her to dive into it. She resisted the urge, of course, afraid that her dirty, water-stained clothes would sully the perfect white linens. The lights on either side of the bed were on, and the room was perfectly lit with a soft, warm glow.
She didn’t think it could get any better until she opened the last closed door and found the bathroom. The floor and counters were the same Carrera marble as the kitchen, but there was an enormous clawfoot tub in the middle of the room and a tiled shower in the corner. On the back of the door was a fluffy, white robe.
As she stepped into the bathroom, a light came on automatically in the adjoining room, and she entered a walk-in closet, where she found rows of dresses, tops, pants, and skirts in every color and fabric, each piece in her size. There were rows of shoes ranging from sandals and sneakers to heels and boots. In the middle of all of this was a settee where Ava sat down, overwhelmed, and sobbed.
How can this possibly be real? she asked herself, wiping away the tears. Part of her wanted to run, unable to trust this situation, unsure of how she found herself in this surreal, other-worldly experience so fully outside her normal life. Ava was an orphan, a throwaway, a girl no one cared about. She didn’t have any grand prospects in life. She didn’t have a family who cared about her. She sure as hell never expected to find herself here, sitting on a settee that probably cost more than her rent, staring at a closet full of Kate Spade dresses and Jimmy Choo heels, brands she had walked by without even stopping to look at during her few trips to the mall because they would never be a part of her reality. She took a deep, shuddering breath and held it in for a moment before exhaling and standing.
She needed a shower. She was overwhelmed and frazzled, unable to think. She needed hot water to run over her body and wash her clean, reset her brain, and soothe her nerves. Anything else would be total sensory overload. Plus, she must stink from the dirty pipe water and the wet shoes she’d worn all day. She was a mess. Looking in the mirror, she saw her hair was knotted and frizzy, dark circles shadowed her lids, and her clothes were rumpled.
It took her a few tries to figure out how to turn on the bathroom fan and get the faucet going. Each knob she turned seemed to do something other than what she expected, and when Ava finally stepped into the shower, the cold water shocked her to her core.
She hadn’t thought to test it, too distracted by everything, and she searched frantically for the right knob to turn, but none seemed to remedy the situation. Shivering violently under the freezing deluge from the rainwater feature, she finally found the knob to turn it off and stood shaking with cold water dripping off her traumatized body.
Chapter 13
Carter
Inside the main house, Carter walked around distractedly, unsure what to do with himself. Ordinarily, he’d work, holding conference calls with his West Coast managers, working on his business plan for his expansion to Hawaii, or approving marketing proposals. Tonight, he was useless.
He poured himself a glass of Malbec and wandered into his study, where the pile of contracts he had not yet addressed stared at him reproachfully from his desk. Unable to focus his thoughts on anything but Ava, let alone concentrate on the legalese of these documents, he shut off the light and wandered back to the kitchen, where he could see the faint shadow of his new tenant moving behind the curtains in the guesthouse.
What was he doing? Unable to answer this question with any degree of satisfaction, he pulled out his phone and called his therapist.
“Good evening, Carter,” Michelle answered on the second ring. “For what reason are you calling tonight?”
“Do I need a reason?” he asked testily before taking a calming breath and admitting, “Ava moved in to the guest house this afternoon.”
“I see,” Michelle said in her infuriatingly toneless way. “How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know,” Carter said, trying to let the words flow without his brain rationalizing them into some plausible sentence. “Excited. Scared. I’m very…confused.”
“In what way?” prompted his therapist.
“I feel utterly distracted, which I’m not used to,” Carter elaborated. “I can’t even read my business contracts right now. She’s in my head. All I can think about is that she’s two-hundred feet away from me right now, and it’s destroying my sense of composure. And there’s something else… I don’t know.”
“What is it?” she asked. “Finish that thought. What else is there?”
“I guess I’m afraid I’m not in control anymore. I feel vulnerable, I guess. And I’ve never felt this way before. Or not for a very long time, anyway. I’m used to calling the shots, and I still am, I guess, but knowing she could walk away at any minute is terrifying.”
“You can’t control people, Carter,” Michelle reminded him. “You try, and you can influence them to an extent with your money and power, but ultimately, you are responsible for yourself and no one else. Ava is her own person, and although you may hold the power in much of your relationship with her, you can’t control her personality or her attraction to you. It’s scary, but for this one, you’re going to be a normal guy. You’re going to have to let her come to you.”
“I know,” he said with a sigh. “She’s the first person I’ve been interested in who hasn’t had her hand out for something. Her lack of expectation is what makes me want to do these things for her. She asks for nothing, and I want to give her everything. But what if she doesn’t want it?”
“You’re a good guy. Give her time to see that. She’ll come around.”
Carter set his phone on the counter, poured himself another glass of wine and waited for the shadow to reappear against the curtains in the guesthouse. The wine buzzed in his head and made him feel agitated and aroused. His skin was sensitive to the cool, marble countertop and the breeze coming in through the open door.
As he was about to go upstairs, he saw the door of the guesthouse open, and across the expansive pool, he saw Ava approaching the main house hesitantly, heading directly for him.
Chapter 14
Ava
As Ava tiptoed barefoot across the sun-warmed stones of the patio, past the glittering water of the lighted pool rippling in the breeze, she felt the anxiety in her stomach twist itself up inside her until she could hardly breathe. Her skin was freezing and her hair was wet, and she didn’t know if she was allowed to put on any of the clothes in the closet. Her own clothes were still in the trunk of Carter’s car, so she slipped the fluffy, white bathrobe over her cold skin and headed towards the main house, unsure.
From across the terrace, she saw Carter standing in the kitchen, talking on his cell phone. She didn’t want to interrupt him and contemplated ducking back into the guesthouse. Just as she was about to scurry back into hiding, he put his phone down and picked up a glass of red wine, and Ava knew her best chance for getting his help without disturbing him was right now. She forced her feet to pad determinedly across the stones towards his lighted door.
Before she had a chance to knock, he opened it, and she stood face to face w
ith him. “I’m sorry,” she said, her first instinct to apologize. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“You’re not,” he assured her. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay? Come in.”
Ava stood in the kitchen, her bare feet cold on the slick tiles. She couldn’t help but shiver, unable to contain the trembling in her body, half from nerves and half from the water lowering her body temperature.
“Why are you wet?” Carter asked curiously. “You’re shaking.”
“I couldn’t figure out the hot water,” Ava admitted, fighting the urge to cry. “I know how stupid that sounds. I’m just really cold.” Her voice broke at the end and her chin trembled, her eyes threatening to give way to tears.
She was overwhelmed by the day and was at maximum capacity at the moment. Carter could sense this, she assumed, because he put his wine glass down and reached out to take her hand. Pulling her towards him, he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin and pulling her cold, wet body towards his. After a moment, her body stopped trembling and she relaxed into his embrace.
Carter reached down and swept his arms under her legs, picking her up in one deft motion. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kept her head on his shoulder. She had never been carried by anyone before, and until this moment, she didn’t think she’d ever allow it. The safest place in the world seemed to be Carter’s arms, and she had never felt as protected and cared for as she did right now.
He walked through the house, cradling her, and Ava wondered fleetingly how he could move so gracefully while holding her. He was tall and surprisingly strong, and she found the effect of being carried arousing in a way she had never imagined. Her brain was too frazzled to hold onto this thought, and her body felt utterly disconnected. She let the warmth of his skin and the strength of his arms and the tingling in her core wash over her without attaching her mind to any of these sensations.
As Carter carried her through room after room, Ava looked around disconnectedly, absorbing bits and pieces of her surroundings. Unlike the bright, modern guesthouse, this space fit Carter perfectly. His home was much like his café, warm and masculine and dark, full of exotic plants and oriental rugs, leather-bound books, and expensive sofas. It was more polished and less ornate than his café, but the sensibility was the same.
Her head remained tucked tightly against his chest when he carried her into his bedroom. He set her curled body tenderly on the bed. “Stay right there,” he commanded, and she obeyed, not sure if she was able to uncurl her body from the tight ball she had made with it and unwilling to try. He pointed a remote towards the fireplace and the flames danced to life, instantly warming the room.
Carter stepped into another room, and she heard the sound of a bathtub filling. The hot water condensed in the cool air, causing steam to roll out of the bathroom in an enticing cloud. When he returned a moment later, Ava felt weak and exhausted. She enjoyed the feeling of being carried, and she didn’t want to think anymore. She wanted to be told what to do by someone strong, someone who desired to protect her, to love her.
How could Carter be that person? she wondered. How was she the woman lying on his bed, a scrappy twenty-year-old girl with nothing and no one in life? How could she possibly be the woman he wanted? Yet, something inside her told her that she was—the way he looked at her with an all-consuming gaze and the hungry intensity of his eyes as they moved over her. His desire for her registered on a level she didn’t quite understand, but her body responded accordingly and she grew wet as he looked at her.
“Stand up, Ava,” Carter instructed her. His voice was firm and commanding, and there was no questioning inflection in his voice.
She did as she was told. Her body moved automatically, complying instinctively, before her brain had a chance to catch up. He looked her over leisurely, and she felt her legs trembling as the warmth between her legs grew more distracting.
“Take off your robe,” he said in a low voice.
Ava hesitated a moment. Her eyes were locked on his, and when he did not look away, she moved her hands to the knotted belt and tugged on one end. The belt fell away loosely, and she pressed her hand against the robe, holding it closed.
“Take off your robe, Ava,” Carter said again, his words still a command, but his voice was soft and alluring. In his face she saw a trust, a bond woven between them, and she wanted to please him. She knew he wanted the best for her.
She let go of her robe and let it fall open, exposing her smooth, hard stomach and the soft swirl of hair between her legs. Carter said nothing, but he continued to watch her, his gaze never moving from her face, and she knew that he was not satisfied. Moving her hands to her shoulders, she slid the fabric off her body and let the robe fall to the floor in a heap at her feet, leaving her naked and exposed.
She felt the blood pool beneath her cheeks and her ears felt as if they were on fire, but she fought the urge to cover herself despite her embarrassment. He wanted this, and she wanted to give him what he wanted. He knew what she needed right now, better than she did, and she trusted him. His eyes finally broke from hers, and she saw them move over her pink face, down her neck, and over her collarbone to the soft upward peaks of her breasts, and down the hard center of her stomach to the silky mound of hair between her legs.
Ava didn’t know what to think or what to do. She had never been exposed in front of a man before, and she found the experience unnerving and erotic in a way she couldn’t have imagined before this moment. She searched her brain for what to say or do, but there was nothing in her life to prepare her. She sucked in a ragged breath and stood frozen before him, trembling beneath his unwavering gaze, awaiting his next command.
“I’m going to touch you now, Ava,” Carter said softly. “Is that okay?”
Ava nodded. He held out his hand, and she placed her small fingers in his, allowing him to lead her into the bathroom.
Chapter 15
Carter
Ava’s fingertips felt cold in Carter’s hand. She stood naked in front of him, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her face. Despite his inclination to look at every curve of her body, her eyes transfixed him and he couldn’t bring himself to look elsewhere. They looked into his with a trust that made his heart beat a little harder in his chest.
“You must be freezing,” Carter said quietly, standing in front of her and pulling her to him. He enveloped her in his arms and felt her body shivering against him.
“I’m not,” Ava answered. “I mean, maybe a little…”
“But you’re trembling?”
“I can’t stop myself,” she said with a little laugh. “I think I’m nervous.”
“You’re not afraid, are you?”
“No,” she replied, looking deep into his eyes as she said it.
Carter felt a smile twitch at the corner of his mouth. The bath was full and he reached over to turn off the faucet. Still holding Ava’s hand, he helped her step inside the tub and watched her body change as it sank beneath the surface, dappled with the patterns of the lights playing on the surface. He noticed how her breasts floated just beneath the surface, soft and enticing. Taking a deep breath, Carter tried to clear his head.
Once Ava slipped below the water to wet her hair, Carter pulled a chair up to the edge of the tub and applied a small dab of shampoo to his hands. Rubbing them together, he ran his hands through her hair, massaging her scalp, twisting the wet rope until the water ran from it. Ava leaned back against the smooth cast-iron and let out a little sigh that made a shiver of excitement run through Carter’s core.
As his hands moved over her, Carter felt each muscle in her body contract and soften. His hands moved from her hair down to her neck and across her small shoulders. He held his breath as he reached forward and slipped the washcloth over her collarbone, first caressing one breast and then the other. Ava seemed to be holding her breath, too, because as soon as he slid his hands beneath the water and across her tight stomach, he felt her exhale. Her body trembled i
n the water, creating tiny ripples of energy amongst the bubbles lapping at the edge.
Seated behind her with his arms wrapped around her small body, Carter felt protective of Ava. He wanted to take care of her and help her, but he also wanted her. She was not yet his, not fully, and he knew the pleasure he sought from her was something he could return in full measure. He leaned forward and put his lips to her ear, brushing lightly against them and feeling her body tense in heightened anticipation.
“Have you ever been touched?” he asked in a whisper, his lips touching the smooth lobe of her ear softly.
“No,” she answered in a whisper of her own, making no effort to move from within his arms.
“Then I’ll be your first,” Carter replied, delighted by the thought of his fingers touching her virgin center and trying hard not to show his excitement.
Ava exhaled a shaky breath and nodded. Carter’s hand rested flat against her stomach, and with her consent, he let go of the washcloth and moved his fingers down deliberately, over her bellybutton and soft mound, to the warmth between her legs.
Her sharp inhalation indicated he’d found the right spot, and his fingers worked deftly as Ava rested her head against his neck. He could feel her eyelashes flutter against his smooth skin, and her breath was heady and warm. As his fingers moved, building her towards a powerful climax, Ava gripped his arm under the water, holding on as the movements took her.