Make Me Stay II: A Second Chance Romance

by Avant, Amarie

  His, on the other hand, were hooded by blond lashes and burning with primitive hunger. “I’ve concluded that you didn’t argue, so you could torture me instead. Go ahead, I’ll take a hand job. I’ll love it because you’re giving it.”

  “Oh, who else would give it to you?” She joked, knowing that he meant he’d prefer her body.

  With his fist over hers, Avery glided her hand up and down his shaft. Every inch of the beast was engraved in her mind. It was so thick and so long that it felt like ages before she caressed from base to crown. She gulped the saliva back that was pooling in her mouth, preferring to have her tongue glide over him rather than her hand. But he was right, though the punishment went both ways.

  Donavan cocked his eyebrow. “C’mon, babe, don’t make me cum, not like this.”

  Her hand moved so slow; it was torture. Heck, it was hurting her just as much as it was hurting him. The drizzle of desire in her panties when seeing him naked had started pouring and that was before she had started working his cock. It was all she could do not to imagine that the way her hand worked him wasn’t the slick walls of her pussy instead.

  Gaze hot with need, Donavan clasped a hand along her jaw. A magnetic force hypnotized her. Their mouths touching. Tongues instantly twining around. When her chest dampened, Avery was sane enough to realize that she’d given in a second too soon. She pulled back. He splashed her face.

  Her jaw dropped. Avery stopped jerking him off to wipe the water from her face. “Asshole!”

  “Heh, you’re the one playing dirty.”

  “I really am.” Avery laughed devilishly, getting back to work. Faster and faster, her hand went up and down his shaft.

  He gripped the ledge. “Fuck, I’m . . .”

  “Cum, my love.”

  “Don’t do this. Babe, my seed loves that mouth, that pussy, just hop right on in.” He groaned, pulling in a hushed air. For a big, muscular man, he had his hands clutched onto the sides of the bathtub. It was nothing short of a dirty erotic scene as she continued to pump his cock.

  Damn. Avery groaned. She really wanted him to cream down her throat or deep inside of her. Was he almost about to bust?

  She stopped in a heartbeat. A fraction of a second before Donavan could explode. She be damned if she didn’t get it. She wasn’t going to punish herself. Avery began to undress.

  “Oh, thank God.” His massive chest relaxed. From her position, it seemed like Donavan’s huge hands were about to break the porcelain off the tub ledge. He let go and laid back again, relaxing. This time, his beautiful face was cocky as hell. Donavan massaged his cock as she climbed in and straddled him. Avery aligned her swollen, needy wet walls along the crown of his dick. Then boom! Donavan thrust his hips upward before she could guide him inside.

  “Shit.” She arched more, filled with erection. “You’re in trouble now!”

  “Take me to jail,” he said, leaning back, biting his bottom lip as Avery rode him hard.

  “Don’t hold back—scream,” he said as she ground down on him, alternating from swift moves to Kegels. Her ass popped, and water sloshed around them. Avery was uninhibited. Fire burned along her skin as she screwed him.

  Avery positioned her feet onto the bottom of the tub for better leverage and fucked him hard.

  “Damnnnn,” he growled. Leaning forward, he filled her hot cunt to the core. Donavan grabbed her neck. His chest glided against her hardened nipples. His mouth lingered on hers for a second. “Best fuck I’ve ever had, baby.”

  Grinding down on him, she moaned, “I know.”

  “Keep screwing, Daddy.” He leaned back with a wink.

  Avery’s lips pursed, but he caught her wrist before she could slap him. While the water continued to splash along the floor, she rode him harder than a professional bull rider. Panting and moaning, Avery’s hands rubbed up and down the ridges of Donavan’s chest and abs as she got her fill of his cock.

  It was her turn to play dirty, squeezing his dick with her walls just when she knew he wouldn’t be able to take it any longer. The muscles in her legs had started hurting a while back, yet sheer determination and a greed for them to cum together took siege.

  “AC!” He called out to her.

  “Donnie!” Their orgasms detonated together. A tsunami of shattering waves rolled through them as they clutched each other.

  * * *

  Later, Avery and Donavan laid in bed facing each other. His thumb rubbed what she thought was an infinity over her curvy hip. “You still drunk?”

  “I wasn’t . . . okay . . . I was just a little drunk. I’m good now.”

  “So, you’ll tell me about why you ended up at Fort Leavenworth, the real story. I knew what you told me before wasn’t the truth. I knew you were trying to protect me.”

  Donavan stopped caressing and clutched at her hip, squeezing the curvaceous meat. Then he nodded, settled back on his pillow, and spoke. Avery positioned her chin on his chest. She quietly watched his lips while he recounted one of the worst days of his life. He started by relaying the story he had told Willie earlier.

  “I had been blown back on my ass. Shocked as shit to see the kid.” He paused, biting his lip. His wet eyes gleamed in the light. The weight from years of sorrow was like a wet blanket shrouding them. Too mesmerized to speak, Avery stared at him with longing, hoping he’d continue.

  “Brown, the other two guys, and I worked our way over. The sound of bullets zipped past us as we moved. I’ll never forget it.”

  She gasped.

  “It wasn’t my first shootout, AC. We were lucky,” he huffed. “So many times before we were lucky. IEDs always going off. The locals hated us in many of the places. The only thing differentiating that day from any other was one, we needed to get to Tripp and Hun . . . McIntosh to see if they were alive. Two, I was the motherfucker who hadn’t done his job. Dereliction of duty.”

  “But you told me, you almost broke someone’s arm?”

  “Yes, baby.” Donavan finished the story about how Brown snapped on him, and he in response couldn’t stop himself. Then he told her about the investigation process. He’d gotten into some trouble for his carelessness. The brunt of his trouble came from him taking the fall for the alcohol and beating Brown. Ironically, it was Lieutenant General McIntosh who wanted hell to pay, and the judge dug her talons into Donavan, making him a worthy enough scapegoat. When he was done speaking, Avery laid on his chest, wishing she could hear his heartbeat, though she felt the vibrations.

  “So,” she began after a while, kissing him softly on the chest, “you just ran into Tripp and got into a fight. Does he want to kill you, or kill you, kill you?”

  “Definitely, kill me, kill me.” Donavan patted the top of her head.

  While she felt sorry for McIntosh and Trip, Avery understood that Donavan had been drowning in guilt for much too long over his mistake. Knowing that the greatest remedy was laughter, she joked, “Well, let me know if you need an intervention.”

  He ran his knuckles across her cheek, thumb splaying over the half-moon cress of her smile. “From who? As I recall it, my old buddy, AC, was popping me left to right when I got suspended from school—”

  “I don’t recall.”

  “Or AC was ready to fight with me. And funny, how I literally remember her choosing to fight if we were doing something that she wanted to like saving trees or doing sit-ins at old, historic buildings.”

  There was no way in hell she could stop herself from grinning. “Not to my recollection do I recall and or remember—”

  “That’s the same thing.” He tickled her. Avery rose to her knees to escape Donavan.

  Straddling him, Avery glanced down, continuing her argument. “So what? You keep making your case. Amnesia is my only defense.”

  “Alright, I’ll stop grilling you.” He jerked his hips upward, forcing a “yip” from her as her body popped up into the air and back down on his pelvis.

  “Don’t get so happy, sir.” Her thighs tightened around him.
“I’m meeting my mom for lunch tomorrow. I suppose we’ll talk about wedding colors at some point if we make it that far.” She watched his lips.

  Donavan’s eyebrows rose. “You’re ready to talk with your mom?”

  “Yup. I think your story really helped hit home, which I’m assuming wasn’t an underlying agenda for you,”

  “Not in the least, Avery. Now, you know the awful shit I’ve done. You forgive her; I will to. And I’ll have hope.” He shrugged.

  “That’s the spirit. At least, I’m at a place in my life where I can be a woman—a woman of God— and make an attempt to forgive her. Maybe, just maybe, your friend Tripp will forgive you too. But hey, wait-a-friggen-minute, I mentioned my mom and our wedding. You were supposed to feign interest by asking, “What colors or something along those lines.” She cocked her mouth to the left.

  “Hey, that’s your business. I’m just waiting at the end of the aisle. But we’re waiting for Anya to be able to walk down the aisle, right?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Then she better be five months and teetering around.” He said as she cracked up. “Seriously, you keep fucking me the way you did earlier, and I’ll repay your treating me like a piece of meat by getting you pregnant. We’ll have at least three kids, trying to walk or crawl down the aisle. Another ring bearer with Junior and little princesses—”

  “Flower girls, sheesh. You really are expecting an invitation to your own wedding.” With a sloppy grin on her face, Avery squeezed at his bicep. “But I don’t mind that, as long as our first dance while entering the reception kills it!”

  “Alright, then I’ll take an invitation and ace whatever dance lesson that’s required of me. I lead sweetheart. I can do that. Just as long as the song doesn’t suck. No Spandau Ballet’s “True.” ”

  “Ha, first, that song is my favorite device for annoying you. Second, if all you’re doing is shaking your ass and eating, then I cannot indulge your opinion regarding songs, thank you very much. Maybe I’ll lead.”

  His forehead crinkled in confusion. Due to her deafness, there was no way she’d be able to lead, not without a million rehearsals and a choreographer on sight to pinpoint the exact moment she should begin moving to the beat. It wasn’t rocket science learning how to lip sync while deaf, but it sure as heck wasn’t smooth sailing either. Leading a dance would prove to be much harder.

  “Donavan, I want to hear you recite your vows. I want to know if everyone in the world sounds like robots except for you.”

  The clouds before his gaze transformed into astonishment. “Junior’s going to be happy that you said yes. Wait, how do you think I sound?”

  “Either one of the two Toms will work; so it seems that you definitely have time to perfect it.”

  “Oh, hell nah. You just said everyone but me sounds like robots. How would you know that?” he asked. “And who are the two Toms?”

  “The one who shares your surname and lips and Hiddleston of course. But if you can pull off Idris or Theo James—and I know because all of them are dominating sexiest accent lists online—then I will still marry you.”

  “What the! I don’t appreciate you comparing my lips to another man.” He shook her arms. “I’m detecting a trend. So you want this South Caroliner boy to catch a British accent? Shit.” He reached down and placed his hands into his pajama pants. “What happened to being blinded by the dick?”

  Avery burst into laughter. “You’re crazy,” she signed.

  “I might sound like a cartoon character. Just put your hands in my pants, and I reckon you’ll forgive all of my shortcomings.”

  When he took her wrist, she pulled back, too overcome with laughter to cooperate. Once Donavan made a point of placing her palms over the hot, hard flesh of him, Avery’s eyes widened. He was titanium and growing firmer by the second. “Obviously, you can compel me to stay. Though it might be peculiar that every time you speak, my hand will have to be in your pants . . .”

  Holding onto each other, Donavan and Avery shared a laugh, one for the records. She knew that, not even in seventy years when her brain began to fade away, would she ever forget this moment.

  34

  Hunter

  Brightness illuminated his heavy lids, and it felt like his face had baked in the sun for hours. Hunter’s eyes fluttered open with a groan. He glanced down at his wrists and noticed beneath the clear zip tie that they were bandaged haphazardly in gauze.

  “What the . . .” he groaned.

  “They’re superficial.” Hawk’s voice funneled in from faraway as Hunter tried to pull his wrists from their tight confines. “Brother, no need trying to get out of the tie without these.”

  His vision swimming slightly, the muscles in Hunter’s shoulders screamed as he craned his neck. He had to have been in the same position for a while too. Hunter noticed a silver glint before his brother’s face. While his pupils focused, Hunter made out the image of Hawk’s golden skin and dark features. The silver was from a pair of old school scissors in his hand. Hunter lunged back, slamming his head against the window. The space was too tiny. He glanced around himself becoming aware that they were in a car, a very tiny car.

  “Sorry about that. I drove this stupid rental all the way here.” Hawk gestured behind him.

  “Here? Home?” Hunter scanned outside behind Hawk. A thicket of sticks and trees lined the lot parallel to a two-lane highway. Mind creeping, his thoughts catching up and coming into focus, Hunter mumbled again, “Home?”

  “Nope, we aren’t home. We’re at a treatment center. The only one that will take your medical coverage.”

  It took a few moments for the words to slide together in his brain in a logical, cohesive order. Actually, what Hawk had said didn’t make a lick of sense. Still in shock, Hunter glanced down at his wrists again. The gauze beneath the ties tugged tightly at his skin. “Why are we here? There’s nothing wrong with me.”

  “Oh, but there is something wrong with you, very wrong, little brother.” Hawk reached over and cut off the zip tie. “I just said you have superficial wounds. They’re on your wrists, Hunter.”

  “What the hell?” Hunter, regaining some sense of understanding, began to claw at the bandages on his hands.

  “Hopefully, the doc will have something for when the meds I gave you earlier wear off. I reckon you don’t recall a thing?”

  Spittle went flying as Hunter growled, “What did you do to me?”

  “I—well—technically you slit your wrists,” Hawk replied, having the nerve to shade his eyes keenly in concern. “My tactics were extreme, bro, I know. But you’ve been crying for help for ages. Listen, there’s this Puerto Rican chick back home telling me she just had my baby.”

  “You’re cheating on—”

  “Hunter, you’ve been out of the loop for ages. My childhood sweetheart is marrying someone else soon. The LTG may not have taught us much besides living and breathing for the army, but I ain’t that type of man. I get around, no cheating.” Hawk shrugged, watching Hunter closely as he snatched off a piece of gauze.

  Hunter began to touch a fingertip over the red-tinted stains on his wrists. It was as if just staring at the symbolic attempt had calmed his rage.

  “I didn’t know the girl that much—still don’t. Although, I stayed in town. Saw the baby.” Hawk’s voice broke somewhat. “The kid has McIntosh eyes, and nose, and shit, everything. So, I have to do this right, Hunter. The whole stick around, long enough for the kid to know my face, know me.”

  Hunter held up a hand, still not connecting the dots. “You . . . Hawk, you . . .” Hunter whipped his head around to the passenger window. Whatever drug he’d been on made him feel like a fish outside of water. He stared out, attempting to decipher anything that might look familiar.

  The brick building with moss weaving along it had character. The sign was a copper color, but his sight was too fuzzy to make out the words. He turned back around to Hawk. “Hawk, you slit my wrists. You slit my wrists? You plan to dr
op me of at a crazy house!”

  “Yes. For you, brother. For my own bit of sanity, so that I can take care of my baby, and one day, you know introduce you to—”

  “Fuck you, the whore that you slept with and that—”

  Hawk reached over and placed his palm onto Hunter’s mouth. His elbow pressed Hunter back against the seat. “Damn, I said I might not know the girl, but you won’t talk like that about her. She had my child!”

  Just like before, Hunter’s fingers clawed into his brother’s massive forearms.

  Eyes fresh with tears, Hawk gritted out, “I did this for you, for our parents, but most definitely for you.”

  With such a clamp onto his mouth and face, Hunter wasn’t able to rattle on or move.

  “Hunt, desperate times. I have failed you for too long. To be honest, I failed the kid already. The second I saw my baby, I took off. Mom was in between crying and praying for you when the girl called and asked if she’d like to see her granddaughter. Bro, I’ve gotta do this shit right. Okay?” When Hunter didn’t nod, Hawk sucked in a long, drawn breath. “So for my peace of mind, can we walk into the building, and when you’re ready to be discharged, I’ll be there. You’ll be like a shiny new penny prepared to take on the world, and I’ll be there for you, brother. Just nod.”

  Hunter did.

  Hawk let go.

  Hunter’s fist flew straight toward his brother’s mouth. Hawk ducked. A scream curdled out of Hunter’s lips as the driver’s side glass shattered around his hand.

  “Hey, you’re just proving how much this desperate attempt I’m making to save you is for your own good. Now, get out of the got-damn car, brother. We’re each other’s Power of Attorney, remember. And I electronically signed all the documents at a rest stop while on the way.”

  Clutching a hand at his throat, Hunter took a deep gulp of oxygen. This wasn’t what he had expected his brother to do! Hawk couldn’t do this to him, after all the progress he’d made with Avery. Then a thought hit him hard, harder than any punch or kick he’d ever taken while his father forced self-defense on him when he was a kid.