Pretend Honeymoon (Romance)

by Bella Grant

  “Please, Carter!” she begged, afraid she would come and afraid he wouldn’t let her. She couldn’t stand yet another disappointment and anticlimax, torturous and devastating.

  “Do you want to come, darling girl?” he asked in a whisper, his voice moving between her legs.

  “Yes!” she gasped, her voice choked, every part of her trying to resist the throbbing pulse of the vibrator, the hard, fast beckoning of his fingers.

  “Then come,” he said, pressing hard on her clamp at the very moment her legs bucked against his hand, setting her entire body violently aquiver, an anguished cry of release rising up from deep within her. The pain in her nipple flared hot over her breast, and Ava leaned into it, seduced by the intensity of the feeling. Her pussy contracted in quick pulses around Carter’s fingers, ebbing and flowing with the pulsing of her clit against the relentless hum of the vibrator.

  Just as Ava felt she would give way and fall over, the buzzing stopped, leaving her with the echo of its memory. The pulsing within her slowed gradually, and she took a deep, shaky breath. The chain jingled slightly under his touch, and she felt the release of one nipple and then the other, the pain from the pressure dissipating through her once the clamp was removed.

  She felt his hand on hers, running lightly over her arms and down to her wrists where he pulled at the silk ribbon until it came loose and she could wriggle her hands out of it. Resisting the urge to remove her blindfold herself, she remained motionless, letting his hands return her vision to her. Blinking several times in the bright light, Ava raised her face to his.

  Chapter 21

  Carter

  Carter lay back on the bed and felt a warmth flow through him, a giddy feeling, a peacefulness. What was it about her that took him to this place of complete happiness?

  As Ava snuggled into the nook of his shoulder, her face on his bare skin, her breath soft and warm, he noticed the difference in this girl compared to the one who’d first walked into his café. He inhaled the sweet floral scent of her shampoo deeply, nuzzling his face into the top of her head. There were feelings he wanted to convey, a sense of connectedness he hoped she felt too.

  “I love you,” he whispered, his stomach fluttering and his heart beating fast.

  Ava looked at him with her hypnotic eyes, fringed with thick lashes, pools of wonder that he had yet to emerge from. She bit her lip and smiled, then buried her face in his arm. He felt her warm breath against his skin, and waited for her to respond. But she didn’t say a word. As the moments passed, his chest felt tighter, and each unspoken moment weighed heavily on him. What did it mean?

  Her silence was terrifying, and as he stroked her hair, unable to see her face, Carter wondered whether he should have said it and what he had expected in return. Honestly, he had expected her to say it back. A part of him knew she loved him. That was evident in her every action, which, in many ways, meant more than the words themselves. Maybe she wasn’t ready to say it? But that seemed hard to believe, given their chemistry. Whatever her reason was for withholding the words he wanted so desperately to hear, Carter knew he was lying to himself if pretended he wasn’t hurt.

  “Ava?” he whispered into her hair. His voice was soft and hesitant, and Carter felt less certain of himself than he ever had before. For the first time since he had known her, Ava held all the power in their relationship. “Ava?” he whispered again, pulling her close against him.

  She didn’t answer, and soon he heard her soft, deep breaths and felt her body twitch as she slipped into dreams, and he pulled her close to him and kissed the top of her head. Her body nestled into his and he heard her whisper “Carter,” in her sleep, her small hands grasping his chest.

  Carter lay awake that night, watching her profile in the dim light coming from the window, counting her breaths as her chest subtly rose and fell. His mind was twisting against itself, full out doubt and concern, feelings he was not used to experiencing over a woman. The clock on the nightstand read 3:42 a.m. Although his brain still churned, his exhausted body won. Finally, he closed his eyes and slipped into a fitful sleep, where he dreamed he was constantly running after Ava and losing her around a series of corners, only to catch a glimpse of her ahead in the distance, before losing her again.

  In the morning, he awoke with a jolt, reaching across the bed to the empty space where Ava should have been. He blinked the bleary sleep away and squinted in the bright sun. He heard the clatter of metal before he saw her, and when he sat up he noticed Ava setting up room service, his favorite order of a cappuccino, a croissant, and a bowl of fruit, trying carefully not to disturb him. She wore nothing but his dress shirt from the night before, and Carter lay back and watched her with a smile on his face, waiting for her to notice.

  “Good morning,” he said, rubbing a hand across his face. “You’re up early. How did you sleep?”

  “Not so well,” she replied. She shifted from one foot to another and focused on his. She seemed almost sad.

  “Sorry, babe,” he replied. “Come back to bed.”

  Ava nodded and climbed up on the bed next to him. Carter felt her unspoken words settle between them, an uncomfortable space he couldn’t ignore, like an itchy sweater separating his heart from hers. He wasn’t sure what to do or what to say, but before he had a chance, Ava kissed him deeply. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back,” she said softly, her hand in his.

  “It’s okay,” Carter said truthfully and smiled, feeling some of the pressure against him loosen. “What’s for breakfast?”

  Chapter 22

  Ava

  On the flight home, Ava wondered why she felt so sick. The plane experienced hardly any turbulence, yet she had the overwhelming urge to vomit. She ducked into the first-class bathroom. After flushing the remnants of her breakfast and washing her face, Ava searched in her pocket for a breath mint.

  When she returned to her seat, Carter leaned over and touched her forehead. “Are you all right, darling?” he asked. “You look a little pale.”

  “Just a bit airsick,” she replied with a weak smile. “I’m fine.”

  When they returned home, Ava did not feel fine. She nibbled on some saltines and took a few sips of ginger ale, but she couldn’t shake the nausea pressing at her stomach. It was worst in the morning, and after four days of scrambling to the bathroom at a moment’s notice, Carter refused to let her work at the café.

  “You need to stay here and rest,” he said as he buttoned his shirt before leaving for work. “I don’t want you to get out of that bed until you’re sufficiently recovered, okay? I’ll call and check on you later. And if I find out you’ve been overexerting yourself, I’ll handcuff you tomorrow.”

  “I promise, I’ll rest,” Ava replied reluctantly, more aroused than she should be, sick as she was, by the thought of her love handcuffing her arms to the metal frame of the king-sized bed. With Carter gone, she tried to study and work on her final paper, the last hurdle before she graduated but lost interest. When the next wave of nausea hit her, she rested her head against her arm while sitting on the floor in front of the toilet and wondered if she needed to see a doctor.

  How long has it been since I’ve seen a doctor, she wondered. Too long. As she sat on the cold tile, her head spinning, it occurred to her that it had been some time since her last period. After counting the days, she realized in horror that it had been six weeks. She was never late, and she’d never had to count the days before, either. Her period was like clockwork, and since she’d started seeing Carter, it was the first time she’d ever had to worry about the date.

  She counted again and sat back against the wall, unable to comprehend what this meant. She needed to see a doctor. Scrolling through the contacts on her phone, she dialed the number for her university health services and scheduled an appointment for that afternoon. After peeing in a cup in the bright, sterile bathroom of the university clinic, she washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face, leaving the small cup of warm urine on the shelf for the nurse.


  When her pregnancy test came back positive, the nurse practitioner handed her some pamphlets on pregnancy and briefly discussed morning sickness. On the way home, Ava stopped at a bookstore to pick up a copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. She sat in the bathtub, reading it and crying, trying to figure out what the hell she was supposed to do.

  How could she have gotten pregnant? They had used protection every single time, and although she wasn’t taking birth control, she had been certain they were being safe and responsible by using the condoms Carter kept religiously in his wallet and nightstand.

  Ava picked up her phone and searched the internet for information on getting pregnant while using a condom. There was no conclusive answer, but she was surprised by one post about people poking holes in condoms to force pregnancy. The thought horrified her, and after getting out of the bathtub and toweling off, she had the irresistible urge to check for herself, just to cross that off the list of possibilities. As she tore the gold wrapper off, she stretched the rubber and held it up to the light. Her stomach dropped when she saw the half-dozen tiny holes winking at her against the light of the beside lamp.

  “What the fuck?” she gasped. “How could he? Why?” She stared, dumbfounded, at the sabotaged condom.

  I have to get out of here, she thought. He’s a liar and a manipulator. I have to get out of here. Yet, another part of her denied these things. You don’t know anything for certain. He loves you. And you love him, even if you couldn’t say it.

  The flight instinct was strong in Ava, and although she tried to resist, it took over. She threw her few belongings in the oversized luxury suitcase Carter had bought her for their trip to Boston, and soon, her life with him was packed away and ready to transport.

  She bought an airline ticket on the way to the airport, and when Mateo didn’t answer his phone, she sent him a text. Something’s happened, she wrote. I’m coming to stay with you. I don’t have anywhere else to go. I’ll be there around 11 tonight.

  Should she tell Carter? What could she say? He had betrayed her, and she didn’t have the mental stamina right now to deal with a fight on top of everything else. She had left him a note on the bed that said she had to go and she didn’t want him to contact her. She needed space. She leaned her head back against the taxi seat, a hot tear slipping down her cheek.

  Why had it all come undone? She had broken her one rule. She had let her guard down and got comfortable, and now she had to deal with the loss of everything she let herself care about.

  Chapter 23

  Carter

  When Carter came home to find the bed empty, his mind immediately went to the thought of handcuffing Ava to the headboard and pleasuring her, enjoying her inability to move and the way she struggled against her restraints. The thought aroused him and he cleared his throat, trying to push the image from his mind as he went looking for Ava.

  After doing a thorough search of the property, he was surprised and anxious because he couldn’t find her. Hopefully, everything was okay. When he returned to the bedroom, he noticed the envelope on his pillow and tore into it, pulling out a note in Ava’s handwriting.

  Carter,

  I can’t do this anymore. I’ve learned too much. Please don’t try to contact me.

  Ava

  His heart squeezed tight as he read her words over and over, trying to understand them, trying to make them real on the page. How could she be gone? What did she mean by ‘I’ve learned too much?’ And why on earth didn’t she want him to contact her? For the first time in his life, Carter was lost. He stood up and walked to his office in a daze, where he poured himself two fingers of scotch, downing it immediately and pouring two more.

  After working his way through half a bottle, he dialed Michelle’s number. “She’s gone,” he said drunkenly when his therapist answered.

  “Carter, do you know what time it is?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

  “She left me,” he repeated. “I don’t know why. She said not to contact her. She’s gone.”

  “Ava?” she said, surprised. “Why do you think she left?”

  “Because I told her I love her,” he said despondently. “I fucked it all up. I should have known better. She’s the first woman I’ve ever loved, and I ruined it. Now, she’s gone.”

  “Carter,” Michelle said. “You can’t make anyone love you. I can tell you’re drunk, and you’re calling in the middle of the night. I know I’m lax about you calling without an appointment, but right now, unless you are a danger to yourself or someone else, I’m going to have to insist that we do this during the daytime. Preferably when you’re sober.”

  Carter hung up the phone without answering. He dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his eyes, but as the sadness and confusion washed over him, the emotion he was left with was anger, and he threw his crystal whiskey glass across the room, shattering it against the fireplace.

  “Is everything all right, Mr. James?” his housekeeper asked, sticking her head in the office.

  “Get out!” Carter shouted. He wondered who the fuck he had become, shouting at the staff and driving the woman he loved away from him. He had been on top of the world lately, and it all came crashing down. Although he tried to concentrate on the quarterly projections, he found himself staring out the window day after day at the trees lining the street, watching snow gather in the notches of the bare branches.

  Weeks turned into months, and the snow stopped falling. Carter couldn’t believe he hadn’t heard a single word from Ava in all that time. Whatever they had, it was over. Carter found himself constantly out of whiskey and often woke up missing his tie or a shoe, sometimes waking outside on a lounge chair by the pool, but more often than not, in the guesthouse.

  One night, after too much to drink at a swanky restaurant downtown, he stumbled home with a woman he knew from the days before Ava, one of the girls he used to take to his penthouse hotel room and fuck, leaving them with room service breakfast in the morning. He didn’t love this woman. He barely even liked her, but she was beautiful and cunning, and she knew how he liked to be pleased. She cunningly submitted to him and let herself be used.

  She was the sole woman he’d taken home, on an equally drunken night soon after he’d moved to town. He didn’t like having women like her in his home, and after that night, he’d never taken anyone home except Ava. She was different. She was the real thing—or at least he’d thought she was. But tonight, he was too sloppy drunk to care, and he led her upstairs to his bedroom and threw her down on the bed.

  “Do you still keep your condoms in here?” she asked with a strange smile, reaching for the bedside table.

  “Don’t,” Carter said, feeling himself grow soft. Her presumption of familiarity made him lose interest and arousal, and he wanted to be alone. “I’m sorry,” he said, pushing her legs off him. “I can’t. I don’t want this. I’m calling you an Uber.”

  She looked at him, confused, her face one of disappointment and surprise. “What?” she asked dumbly, rubbing his cock in the hopes of getting him interested again and failing.

  “Stop,” he said, removing her hand. “You have to go.”

  With that, she sat up and fixed her hair, a scornful look on her face. “Whatever,” she said snidely. “You’re not even worth the effort.”

  When he heard her leave through the front door, Carter lay back and wondered what expensive object she might have stolen on her way out. He couldn’t be with a woman like her, not after what he’d shared with Ava. There was no point in trying. He felt the tightness in his chest again, and the painful lump of her absence lodged itself in his throat. Rolling over, he turned off the light and fell asleep, alone and miserable, in his king-size bed.

  After a few months of moping back and forth between home and work, Carter was no longer able to exist in the space he once had found so comfortable. He had heard nothing from Ava since the day she left the morning when he told her to take it easy and get well, and although he refuse
d to believe it, he knew it was time to make a change. Most likely, she was in Boston, with Mateo. It was the one place Carter could logically think of her going, but he’d resisted the urge to hire someone to find out. She didn’t want to be found, and he was man enough to accept that. Still, Carter had a store in Boston and needed to get it up and running, whether she was there or not. It was time to move on, and late on a Tuesday evening in mid-spring, he called Danielle into his office.

  “I’m making you general manager,” he said flatly without looking up from his papers. Although he cared for his staff, he was not their friend, and he couldn’t allow himself to get invested in their emotions. “I trust you can do the job, and I have full faith in your abilities. I’ll be leaving for Boston shortly to open my new café. Any questions?”

  “No, sir,” Danielle said, her voice high-pitched and surprised. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Carter said, and waited for her to leave. When she didn’t he said, “That’s all, you can go,” and watched her retreat from his office.

  The movers came and went, and Carter took a last look around his property. His assistant would take care of the final details. She had offered to join him in Boston, but he felt the need to do this alone, independently. He needed to deal with his life and move on, and he couldn’t do that with anyone else around. This was a fresh start.

  In his heart, he hoped Ava would find him. He would do everything in his power to resist the urge to contact her, since that was what she wanted, but he would be there, waiting for her. However, until she initiated contact, they were lost to each other.