Make Me Stay II: A Second Chance Romance

by Avant, Amarie

  “Awe, Anya are you going to watch fireworks too?” One of the guest’s children asked.

  With Donavan’s back to her, she didn’t get to see how her daughter responded, but the little kid seemed charmed by Anya.

  Taking a few hesitant steps, Avery went to stand beside Donavan, marking their closest encounter in days. Smiling, she joined in on the conversation. “I really love fireworks.” She knelt down to the kindergartener and said, “They’re about the only thing I can hear.”

  The kid sucked in a breath. “You can hear?”

  “Fireworks, bombs, though I don’t prefer to be close enough to a bomb to hear it.” She smiled.

  “Sorry.” The kid’s mom placed a hand on the kid’s head.

  “No worries.” Avery grinned, all right with having become nothing short of a phenomenon to the little girl.

  “Any particular breakfast orders? I’m the chef today,” Donavan said, handing Anya to her.

  Her eyebrows crinkled. They hadn’t held an extended conversation in what felt like ages. Spaghetti Tuesday was one instance where she almost forgot to be angry.

  Almost.

  Little badass Donavan Hardy was still working for her father.

  “Carly is taking the week off, so I took it upon myself to make breakfast for the guests today, and I’ll make breakfast tomorrow, AC. Next week, Carly will start at Bright Smile Dental again until winter season.”

  “Oh, wow, her old supervisor is really nice,” Avery murmured, effectively saying more to him than she had in a long while. He stood there, his polo clinging to his thick muscles and colorful tattoos, beckoning her to touch. But her gaze never found his lips. Damn, but she could stare at his mouth for ages, and she didn’t want to talk.

  Avery turned away from Donavan and walked the family out as they chatted about heading to an aquarium for the day. She kissed the top of Anya’s head who didn’t respond in kind.

  “What did I do?”

  The baby pouted. Her cooing was done, longing settled in her honey eyes.

  “But Dad’s being bad.” Avery couldn’t help but smile at Anya, though it sort of hurt. “Alright, honey bun, should I go talk to your dad?”

  With a toothless grin and sandy curly cues sticking straight up at the top of her head, Anya gave another long coo.

  “Oh, okay. So, you’re saying if I don’t go make amends, I’m in trouble.”

  She giggled as Anya continued to respond.

  “One day soon, I’m going to hear your voice sweetheart and your cry. And that’ll make this worth it.” Chewing on her bottom lip, Avery headed into the kitchen.

  The lump in her throat expanded with each step.

  Leaning against the island, Donavan had a box of pancake mix in his hand that Avery hadn’t seen since Carly took over baking all the sweet breakfast pastries. He whisked it away, a pensive look on his face. “I was just cleaning up.”

  “I’m sorry, Donnie.”

  Donavan put down a bowl that he’d just picked up. “You can’t be sorry. I’m doing bad shit, baby.”

  “You made a massive mistake.” Avery placed Anya in her bouncer. “You said you’d quit the morning after getting the pedal boats. And I was still stubborn.”

  He came closer to her, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “We’ve been mad at each other too long. I was so angry when I put away that luggage.”

  She kissed the smile from his lips. “And I was so angry the other day when you said no to me. This entire time, all I keep thinking about is being without you. Donnie, I will not lose you. I’ve spent years without you, and that makes me clingy and scared of consequences . . .”

  Donavan picked her up and placed her on the counter. His hands massaged her thighs. “I’m sorry, baby.”

  She shook her head, kissing his mouth. “No, I am. See, when we’re not being stubborn, we still can’t make any headway communicating because we’re both mushy.” She continued to speak in between kisses. “I have to ask, have I suffocated you too much these past few months?”

  Donavan bit down on her bottom lip. His hand clasped the apex between her thighs.

  “I’m so horny, Donavan.” She pulled away from him for a moment, only to return to the addiction of tasting him. “But tell me, have I been too much?”

  His mouth lingered on hers for a second. He growled stepping back. “No. AC, I just wanted to help. I’ll avoid your dad. Just come’ere, so I can have you . . .”

  When his tongue slithered across her collarbone, Avery almost lost it. She reached for his pants but stopped herself. Groaning, Avery pressed her palms against his chest, exhaling heavily. “After the end of the week, we’re closing down the B&B for good.”

  The lust shading his eyes vanished. His eyebrows furrowed.

  “Donavan, I wanted to talk with you about it first, which means now. We can make this place a museum or something, but all those Hallmark movies with the bed and breakfast trope made it sound easy. Wanna know what they all had in common?”

  “You are insane, AC.”

  “Little old white people ran them.” As he cracked up, she added, “I’ll never be a little old white lady no matter how much I accomplish.”

  “Really?” He sucked in a breath in fake shock.

  His fingers splayed across her ribs until he tickled her breathlessly. Donavan kissed her mouth. “Tell me you aren’t changing your plans for me.”

  “Shuddup, Donnie, and kiss me.” Her eyes twinkled. “We both know I can hold out for a few minutes, you, not so much.”

  He held her at arm’s length. “Tell me, Avery.”

  “For you, for me, for our kids. Running a business is taking a toll on us. Living in the location where you work, working with your significant other, those are other issues that weigh down a relationship.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me.” Donavan nudged his chin to Anya, who had fallen asleep in her bouncer. “Now, I’m going to quietly fuck my fiancée.”

  “If someone comes . . .” she began, but he’d already pulled her off the counter and spun her around. “Hey, you are incorrigible.”

  Donavan pressed his hard groin against her back. His mouth moved over the nape of her neck as he his steel toe boots bumped the inside of her ballet flats. Avery moved her legs wide, leaning her palms against the island while he undid his belt, dropping his jeans and boxers.

  “Mmm, what you have planned for me?” she murmured over her shoulders, fiending for his touch. When Donavan fisted his juicy erection, she whimpered, pushing her hand up between her legs and under her skirt. In a state of hypnotic arousal, Avery began to tweak her clit while her greedy pussy quivered and drizzled.

  “Shhhh, sweetheart, I got you.” His fingers skimmed over her shoulders down the small of her back until she arched perfectly. Her legs shook while he positioned his cock along her slick, thick folds.

  “Hey,” she groaned as his crown slithered along her wet valley, gliding up to her ass and then down again. With her heavy, achy cunt, and a hitch of oxygen in her throat each time his creamy cock skidded up to the tight entrance of her ass, Avery groaned. Fear clutched at her throat, though her body begged for Donavan.

  “I know you’re not ready for me to put it in your ass, sweetheart,” he said, his dick becoming even more shiny by the second. “But I’m telling you how beautiful my cock looks between these too caramel chunks.” He whistled.

  She gulped, about ready to pull her hair out and say . . . yes.

  While he spoke, Avery clutched at the counter tops, loving the simple movements of his beautiful lips. “You want my cock in that ass, don’t you?”

  “Yes, please, Donavan, just fuck me.” Her neither regions cried as his shaft teased against it then glided her juices up to her buttocks.

  Donavan’s thick erection filled her up, and he eased his finger into her ass pressing down until she gasped. He clasped the back of her ponytail, forcing her to arch more. Sending the beast of his erection sinking deeper, working himself in and out of her.
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  Barbaric Donavan continued to ravage her ass with his finger, and she grew wetter with him filling her up in multiple entrances. He was banging and banging inside of her core so hard that she bit down on her lip, begging herself not to scream. Fire burgeoned over her left curvy cheek as he slapped, gripped, and then slapped it again. With each grip, he fucked her harder. With each slap, he slid out, only to drive home . . . harder.

  “Oh, yes, yes,” she panted. It felt like he was screwing her brains half a loose. Her muscles tightened down on him, holding him steady. He’d sunk so deep; she wasn’t ready to let him go. An orgasm funneled low before sparking a flame throughout her curvy frame.

  “Donavan!” she screamed loud enough for glass to shatter. Loud enough for the bones of slaves to hear them across from the rice field over a mile away.

  But he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop slamming his cock into her slick, snug folds. When her back sagged, and her voice became quiet, Donavan turned her around.

  Avery leaned most of her weight on her elbows and back against the island. Her beautiful face was misted and clouded in dizzy bliss. She clutched a hand to her throat, feeling her heart bounding against her chest, and stared at the bully of a man who had just beaten her core with his cock.

  “I fucking missed you, AC,” Donavan declared. Still panting for oxygen, his honey eyes warmed over her body. He clasped her tiny waist, pulling her to his thick chest. “I’d go mad before I ever let you go.”

  Twirling her around, Donavan planted her body on top of the counter, lifted her left leg up, and pressed his cock against her swollen lips. Avery’s eyes sparkled. Her slick walls were still tweaking from the eruption she just had.

  “Donnie . . .” she murmured, unsure if she could take anymore of him.

  He claimed her mouth while the head of his cock was swallowed into her tight entrance. He drove two inches in and an inch back out. This time he took her slowly.

  * * *

  The Audi glided to a stop, parallel to the Carlson home. Donavan had screwed her delirious and then loved her until fireworks dazzled before her eyes. She would never know how Anya slept through the ruckus, but she was grateful. After that hard week they’d had, she needed what he’d given her. And it had been enough to make her current circumstance bearable.

  Well, bearable enough. She still wore the dizzy grin he had left on her face, but she squared her shoulders. C’mon, AC, you can do this.

  She glanced over to the front yard. The first day she had met her son flashed before her eyes. Of course, she’d been by the Carlsons a ton of times since then. Yet, the two mothers hadn’t resolved their issues. A plethora of emotions flooded Avery, drowning her.

  She concentrated on the small pieces of history that connected herself and Jessica, Donnie and their son. Either way she dissected it, Jessica Carlson had nurtured Junior for more than “the first five,” which were considered the most crucial years, earning her the right to be in his life.

  The smell of barbecues and other July Fourth delights permeated the air. Along the street, the American flag flanked every yard. Avery stepped closer, clutched the gate, and hesitated.

  Red and white stripes billowed into the air across the way, symbolizing even more freedom. Avery noticed Maggie seated at the bottom of the porch, wearing her signature overall style, waving the hand flag as if it were a peace treaty. When the girl looked up, her eyes instantly sparkled. A split second later, they faded.

  “Good morning, Miss. Hardy,” Maggie said.

  Avery’s eyebrows arched, immediately taken aback. Maggie had never been so formal, and Avery wasn’t a Hardy yet. She opened the gate, walked inside, and crouched down. “Hello, Margaret.”

  “You know I don’t . . .”

  “Hey, I’m not a fan of the formalities either, but I understand why you had to greet me like that.” Avery winked, pulling softly at her pigtail. “You didn’t come to your last baseball game, Maggie. Care to tell me what happened?”

  Maggie’s shoulder’s slumped in defeat. “Mom and Dad have been busy.”

  “Alright, well I hope they’re not too busy for the Disney World plans we’ve made.” When Maggie’s eyes began to water, Avery knew the situation was worse than she thought. She whispered the next part. “I know your mom and I aren’t getting along right now. I’m here to fix that. Wish me luck.”

  She straightened up and went to peer through the screen door. With not a speck of dust on the worn furniture, the living room was as tidy and bare as ever. Avery let herself inside and stopped at the steps. “Jess, Ted?”

  Maggie tapped Avery’s shoulder. “Mom is in bed. She said you can come up.”

  “Thanks.” Avery moved up the stairs. The silence that usually comforted her clung to her in an unnerving way. She passed Maggie’s bedroom, which had posters of female professional sports players all over, including the most recent first female NFL player. The door to Junior’s room, also ajar, displayed everything just as he’d left it.

  Avery felt her shoes creak over the clean, threadbare carpet. Upon entering the master bedroom, Avery could feel the depth of Jess’s coughing. Her frail hand reached toward the nightstand for her glass of water, and it went sailing to the ground. Luckily it fell between the bed and the stand, clattering against the railing, which decelerated it’s landing onto the ground, keeping it from breaking. Avery plucked it up. “I’ll get you some more.”

  She hurried back downstairs, needing to analyze what she’d just witnessed. The massive amount of medications cluttering the nightstand. The breathing machine that Jess’s water would’ve fallen on if it hadn’t slipped down between the bed. She placed the glass into the sink and grabbed another from the drying rack.

  After filling the glass, Avery hustled up the stairs and into the room. Jess placed a hand against her chest, continuing to cough.

  She handed over the glass, glancing at the medication. “Is it time for you to take—”

  Avery made out Jessica’s response between all her coughing. By the look on her face, it had been a snappy “No!”

  Fidgeting with her fingers, she watched Jess, ready to be of more use, though not entirely sure of how.

  “Did,” Jess hacked a few more times before continuing. “Did Ted tell you I had pneumonia before?”

  “Yes. Is there anything you need?”

  In a labored breath, Jess jutted her chin behind Avery. “Move the stuff. Toss it on the floor. I don’t care anymore.”

  When she was done speaking, Avery turned around, realizing she’d been talking about a chair that had mounds of fresh laundry on it. Without prompt, Avery began to fold up shirts, work pants, underwear. She grabbed the stacks and looked toward Jessica.

  “You know good and well that I’ve been trying to get your attention this entire time,” Jess gritted.

  “I offered to help.” Avery shrugged. “Where—”

  “I never asked. Just place it on Ted’s side of the bed please . . . thank you.”

  Avery sat down, taking in the room again—then Jessica.

  Lips tensed and her entire face a surly mask, Jessica stared at her. “You are nothing like I imagined. All those years, Miss Verdie came around. At first, I knew it was to ensure she hadn’t made a mistake. And with the power you Castles have, I was afraid that the gift God gave me would be snatched away at any time—with all the attorneys and folks working for you.”

  “I don’t have an arsenal of lawyers in my pocket, Jess.” Avery spoke. “Today is the Fourth of July. We always agreed that holidays were for family.”

  “Then you go and fold my laundry.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be—”

  “You’re humble, snarky, fearless. You get on my last nerves.” She chuckled to herself. “It’s true. Maggie picked up that phrase, something getting on her nerves. I had to let her know that she was too young to have nerves.”

  Avery gulped tentatively unsure where the conversation was coming from or headed to.

  “You did exact
ly what I would’ve had the shoe been on the other foot. The day you came to my house, wanting your son. At first, I thought it was just the Castle girl deciding she actually wanted her son back. Your family is so discreet that I actually believed the worst.”

  “I wouldn’t . . .” Tears flooded Avery’s gaze. She quickly wiped them away.

  “I’m highly aware, now. And I’m just a little old biddy, jealous of all the life flowing through my son’s mother.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Child, don’t you dare, ever be sorry. Heck, I heard you tell that to Maggie once. ‘We don’t say we’re sorry; we apologize. We aren’t sorry people.’ No truer words.” She paused, that moment of energy she’d just used now seemed to fade away. “I’ve gotten my entire lifetime’s fill of ‘I’m sorry.’ ” She pursed her lips. “ ‘Sorry, Mrs. Carlson, you won’t have children.’ ‘Sorry, you have lung cancer.’ ”

  Worry gripped tightly at Avery’s esophagus. The only word lodged in her throat was another apology, so she sat there, stunned.

  “Ted told you and Donavan that I had pneumonia. That I’ve had it in the past. That wasn’t the entire truth, Avery. Never touched a cigarette in my life, but I was diagnosed with early-stage lung cancer after having treatment for a painful kidney stone. The children were younger. Again, I feared Mrs. Verdie would snatch my little Donavan away from me. She didn’t. She connected me with the sort of doctors that had to be blessed by the Holy Spirit. The left, top lobe of my lung was removed. I survived. In February, when Anya was born, I had a cold . . . let myself be afraid. In March, when you had Margaret, I caught pneumonia. Barely kicked it. Just have another cold now. But as you can see, these colds aren’t as simple as the common cold for me. Have to be extra careful and take precautions.”

  Avery bit her lip from offering another apology.

  “Ted’s working extra hours again.” Jess’s voice broke. “And again, I’m a stubborn battle axe, so Margaret has had the worst summer.”