Because Forever (The Avenue Book 2)

by B. Cranford

  Her hands snaked into his hair—he knew she loved to weave her fingers through his curls, and he loved it when she did. It was like his scalp had a direct line to his balls, making them tighten with pleasure.

  “Fuck, Odie.”

  “Mm, yes, please,” she murmured in response, pulling away from his lips with a little glint of something in her hazy, lust-blown eyes. “Aussie, I have to tell you somethin’, and it’s important.”

  He pulled the rest of the way back, trying to will his dick to stand down. If it was important, he wanted to be able to give her his full attention, not have his cock standing at attention instead. “Babe?” he asked, giving her the go-ahead to tell him anything.

  “I feel . . .” She swallowed, bringing her hands to rest on his hips, one still fisted around her keys, and pulling him forward so that their bodies were pressed together.

  There was no way she didn’t know that he was harder than steel still.

  “You feel,” he encouraged, trying to move his hips back but finding it hard to resist the urge to thrust forward just to feel a half-second of pleasure at the friction.

  “Wooed.”

  He blinked rapidly, his mind taking a moment—several moments—to catch up. Wooed. She felt wooed?

  “I said I’m not going to be easy. I meant, I expect you to court me. Woo me.”

  Her words bounced around his head several times—something he accounted to the fact that all the blood and brain cells that would normally catch on pretty damn quickly had evacuated to his downstairs brain. The one that was trying to tell him something . . .

  He felt his mouth form an “O” as the meaning finally sank in.

  He’d done it. He’d courted her and wooed her and won her and now . . .

  “Oh, shit, Odie. Really?”

  Her response was nothing more than a minute dip of her head as her top teeth sank into her bottom lip and he was done for.

  Their mouths slammed together even as Austin’s hips started thrusting shallowly, just like he’d wanted to a moment ago but had told himself he couldn’t.

  Except now, he could.

  And he was going to.

  Between kisses, he tried to ask her if she was sure, if she was too tired, if she wanted him to go. He tried to remind himself he needed to get home, to remember Aaron’s present for Ashton, to make sure she wasn’t too worn out in the morning for her new client. Except . . .

  My hand is in Odie’s panties and this is the best fucking night of my life.

  It wasn’t hyperbole. Okay, maybe it was, just a little. But still—it had to rate up there with the day he and Ashton opened The Avenue, and standing up as best man for Aaron in his wedding to Simon.

  Because holy God in heaven, somehow—without even realizing it—he’d managed to sneak a hand under her hot-as-fuck dress and into her skimpy underwear and he was going to come in his pants.

  Potentially embarrassing, but worth it.

  “Odie,” he whispered urgently, his lips next to her ear, two fingers working between her legs and making her moan. “Are you gonna come soon, babe? Or do I have time to get you inside, get my mouth on your cunt?”

  Shit, it wasn’t until he said the words that he realized they were still in the hallway of her apartment building. He had her pressed up against her door, his body thankfully shielding her from potential onlookers.

  Not that there were or had been any. But he wasn’t going to risk it.

  “Gotta get you inside, babe.”

  “Fu–fah, yeah,” she moaned, making an accompanying little whimper when he pulled his fingers from her body and took the keys that she’d been holding in her hand since he’d first told her he wasn’t going to stay over.

  Sliding the key in the lock, he stilled when he felt her hands snake underneath his shirt and lay flat on his back. “Hurry, Austin, please.”

  He nodded, slamming open the door and stepping aside to usher her forward. He’d barely closed the door behind them when their lips met again, their kiss even hungrier after the short break to get into Odie’s place.

  “Now,” he wondered aloud, “where was I?” He cocked an eyebrow, feeling a smile form on his face then fall away when Odie took his hand and put it back under her dress, resting it against the soaked panel of her underwear.

  “Right here. You were right here.”

  “What did I say I was going to do to you, babe? If I saw you in those shorts?”

  A long, throaty moan was the soundtrack to Austin sliding his hand back into her panties, his fingers seeking and finding her swollen clit, rubbing softly—too softly, he knew—and waiting for her to talk to him.

  “No–can’t. Don’t remember. God, please.”

  “You remember, come on.” He kissed across her cheek until his lips were right next to her ear, then whispered, “Because I can do that to you, if you want.”

  Her answering nod was frantic, loose, like she’d lost all control, but still she didn’t answer him.

  “You’re going to need to use your words, if I’m going to give you what you want,” he added, increasing the pace of his fingers as they stroked her, dipping down to circle her entrance. He stilled his hand for a moment, earning an epic side-eye and more needy noises from Odie, before he slid his fingers back up to her clit, pressing down on it hard enough that her side-eye became an eye-roll. “I promised I’d drag those shorts down your legs and tongue-fuck you. You’re not wearing the shorts, but these sexy little things”—he used his free hand to snap the hem of her lacy panties—“have to go.”

  “Please, I want that.”

  “Say it to me, go on. If you’re going to beg me, use the words,” he demanded, maintaining the pressure on her clit but not moving his fingers otherwise. “Tell me, Odie. Please.”

  “I want you to fuck me with your tongue, Austin. I need you to. I want your mouth on me and I wanna come on your face. Twice, like you said. You said twice.”

  “It’s so fucking hot hearing you tell me that’s what you want, babe.” He rewarded her with a hard kiss before telling her, “If I put my mouth on you, I can fuck you with my fingers and pay this little spot right here”—he tap-tapped her quickly—“some proper attention. Does that sound good, Odie?”

  “Mm hmm.” She nodded frantically, gripping his wrist with one hand, the other clawing at the wall behind her. He leaned back, using the momentum to move her away from the entryway so they could stumble further into her apartment, kissing like they’d never get another chance. He kept his hand under her dress, holding off on losing contact with her hot, wet center for as long as possible. Finally, he dragged his hand free and pulled her down beside him in the place they’d been a few nights earlier.

  On her couch. Except now there was no space between them, no question of what they were.

  He’d told her what he wanted—her.

  She’d told him what she needed—him.

  And now all that was left was to finish what they’d started in the hallway when she’d told him how she felt.

  Wooed. Austin thought it might be his new favorite word in the English language. Up there with pastries and pussy.

  “Take them off,” Odie begged with an urgency that made Aussie bite down on his bottom lip.

  Hard. Much like the dick that was confined to his pants and really, really wanted to join the party.

  “Take what off?”

  “Undies.” She lay back on the couch and lifted her hips, leaving him no choice but to put his hands on the waist of her underwear and drag them, as promised, down her legs.

  “Jesus, Odette.” She was naked from the waist down, her dress rucked up around her waist, her pretty pussy glistening where he’d been working her over, slicking her core with her own arousal. “Fucking pretty, fucking perfect.”

  She shifted restlessly while he looked his fill, wanting to slow the moment down but finding that more impossible with each passing second.

  “Come closer, Garfield.” He reached for her hips, sliding from the
couch to the floor to kneel in front of her, dragging her around so that she was exactly where he wanted her. With her back half-propped on the back of the sofa, her feet touching the floor on either side on his hips, and her pussy right in front of him, shiny with arousal, begging to be eaten out. The feel of the flushed, heated skin of her hips beneath his palms was a stroke to his ego—and other places. She actually began thrusting—shallow movements of her hips as she sought pleasure. From him.

  She wanted him and he was going to give her everything she wanted. More, if she’d let him.

  Using his grip on her to pull her the rest of the way to his mouth, he started with light kisses on her mound, stroking his left hand down her hip and around her thigh to grip her just below her delectable ass.

  Going to bite that ass one day, he thought fleetingly as he put enough pressure on her to open her up further to him. “So good, I knew it would be so fucking good,” he told her, having moved his mouth so it hovered just above her clit. It peeked out at him, swollen and pink and waiting.

  He wasn’t going to make it, or her, or himself wait any longer. He stiffened his tongue, flicking her there, and when she begged him, “Please, please, more, please,” he used his right hand to fill her cunt, licking and kissing and loving her clit until her legs pressed in close to him and his name was falling from her lips.

  Odette calling his name out when she came—that definitely made it the best night ever.

  The sight of Austin’s head between her legs, working on her second orgasm of the evening, was almost more than Odette could stand.

  That’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve seen in my life, and I’ve seen Magic Mike Live twice.

  She couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped her at the thought of comparing her best friend—her boyfriend—going down on her to Magic Mike, and the consequence was Aussie raising his head to glare at her.

  “Something funny, Garfield?” he asked, his chin showing evidence of what he’d been doing.

  She shook her head, her laugh dying at the idea of him stopping. “No, please, don’t stop.”

  He raised up on his knees, and leaned over so he loomed above her where she was somewhat-awkwardly laid out on her couch. “If you don’t find anything funny, then why are you laughing?” His eyes vacillated between amused and serious, and she thought that a moment like this was why fooling around with your best friend was a really great idea.

  Because she could play around with him, could tell him her weird train of thought and he’d understand. Hell, he’d probably laugh, too.

  She smiled at him, and brought her hands up to cup his face, bringing him closer so she could lay a chaste kiss on him, uncaring of the fact he wore her flavor on his lips. “Honestly? I was thinking about how hot it was watching you go down on me, and how it was the sexiest fucking thing I’d ever seen.”

  “And that made you laugh?” He narrowed his eyes at her, bringing his hands to cover hers where they still rested on his cheeks.

  “No, because after that I thought it was even hotter than Magic Mike, which I saw twice when I went out to Vegas with the girls from school. And that is what made me laugh.”

  “You think I’m sexier than a strip show in Vegas, Odie?”

  “Um, yes. By far.”

  “That’s good, ’cause now I get to reward you.” He gripped her hands with his and drew them away from his face, raising her arms over her head and pinning her in place. “Wait, are you even comfortable like that?”

  Odie nodded, then paused. She took stock of her body—naked from the waist down, her dress bunched around her hips and her back oddly curved against the back of the couch. “Actually, no, not really. I mean, now you mention it . . .” She trailed off, not wanting to seem ungrateful for the orgasm, but now the adrenaline, that boneless sensation, had worn off, she sort of did want to move to somewhere a little more comfortable.

  Somewhere she wasn’t so contorted.

  She was a boxer, not a yoga master, after all.

  “Bedroom?” he asked, standing and pulling her along with him without waiting for an answer. “Let’s go.”

  She let him lead her to her room, admiring the way his ass worked beneath the material of his pants and wondering why she hadn’t made a move to get his pants off already. Need to get him naked.

  He stopped and turned around once he was beside the bed, and the first thing Odie did was reach for his belt, taking no time at all to unbuckle it before attacking the button and zipper like her life depended on it.

  “Eager beaver,” Aussie said with a laugh, reaching under her dress to cup her naked pussy, letting her strip him of his jeans and underwear in one last, desperate motion.

  “She’s very eager, yes.” She stopped only briefly in her mission to get him naked—next step, strip off that shirt—to admire the hard length that jutted from his body.

  His cock was thick, the ruddy head beaded with moisture. “It’s . . . wow,” she uttered, closing her eyes in anticipation of the embarrassment that never came.

  She didn’t care that his dick had struck her dumb. And neither did he, if the way it bounced as he groaned was any indication. “Fuck, Garfield.”

  “I was gonna, with your shirt and take”—she circled her finger in the vicinity of his chest—“but you’re going to have to do that. I want this instead.” She wrapped a hand around the base of his erection, gripping tightly but not too tightly and testing the feel of it against her palm.

  “I have no idea what all you were just saying but if you promise to never take your hand off me, I’ll do whatever you want. Literally, anything.”

  “Careful, handsome. You don’t know what I might ask for,” she replied with a squeeze of her hand and a cheeky little wink designed to make him think dirty thoughts.

  Well, dirtier thoughts, anyway. Because if he was as in the moment as she was, his thoughts were already plenty dirty.

  “Anything, Odie,” he whispered, the tone in his voice causing a shift in the atmosphere of her bedroom. “Not just in here, out there, too.” He tilted his head toward the window, telling her with a handful of words and one concise head movement that he was going to give her the world.

  And oh, how she wanted the world from him.

  She didn’t say anything—couldn’t find the right words, even if her throat hadn’t closed around the lump that had formed there. Instead, she began stroking up his length and down, tightening her grip until he made a noise that told her she’d found the sweet spot. Then, she worked him over while he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and swept it over his head in one quick movement.

  It wasn’t until he covered her hand with his own, joining her for a few passes over his ever-hardening cock before stilling her hand, that she stopped. Her head fell back to look up at him, his eyes on fire with need and desire, his mouth slackened from pleasure but still so damn kissable that she found herself raising on tiptoes to plant one on him.

  He drew her hand away from his body, and she felt the loss immediately. The weight of him, the strength and silkiness of his skin had so quickly become a part of her—familiar in a way she couldn’t explain—that she wanted to pout at being stopped. Except then he spun her around, his hand landing at the base of her neck and massaging her gently, his fingers tickling at her hairline, before gripping the zipper on the back of dress.

  The slow drawn-out sensation of him sliding the tab down, parting the teeth of her dress and letting it fall to her feet made Odie’s knees weak. And when he added his lips to kiss from the top of her spine down, she had to reach back and brace herself on his thighs.

  “Oh, yes, Austin,” she whispered, holding tightly to his legs and wondering how she’d ever thought anyone else could make her feel the way he was in that moment. “It’s so good, it’s so fucking good.”

  The brush of air around her body was just another sensation that set her nerves into overdrive as he stood, bringing his lips to her ear and whispering, “I knew it would be.”


  With no idea what he had planned, and not caring if she was ruining his moment or not, she turned to face him, wanting to see him, to kiss him, to watch him as they took the next step. “Do you have . . . ?” She trailed off, hoping he picked up what she was putting down, somehow embarrassed, despite all they’d shared in the time since she’d told him she was ready for this next step.

  He nodded, grabbing her hand and making a sort-of-spin, sort-of-dip movement to lay her out on the bed, as he dipped down to grab his wallet from his discarded jeans. She giggled softly at the very Austin move.

  He’d never been one to do things the typical way, her dramatic goofball. He was always spinning her, bowing ridiculously at her, making her smile with his elaborate words or silly acts. Of course he’d incorporate that in the bedroom.

  It settled her in a way that nothing else could—seeing that side of him so easily transfer over to this new part of their relationship.

  Soon, he was over her, his body stretched the length of hers—and then some, given the difference in their heights—and he was wordlessly asking if she was ready. Spearing her hands up into the blond curls she loved so much, she nodded and waited for him to notch himself at her entrance, then slowly slide inside.

  “Finally,” he groaned, a word that her own thoughts echoed.

  Finally.

  Finally.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her feet together over his tight, firm ass as it flexed with every pump of his hips and she cried out her pleasure, loving the way his big body somehow fit her smaller one. Silently, she offered an apology to every romance author she’d ever doubted when describing couples with a size-difference like the one she shared with Austin.

  It fucking works, she thought, and thank you, God, for that.

  Her smile was partially for the stupidity of her thoughts but mostly because having Austin joined with her was incredible.

  Indescribable.

  Electric.

  “Odie, I love you,” he said softly, the words piercing her thoughts, more intense than if he’d yelled them, and she cried out as pleasure washed over and over her, a wave that crashed and retreated, crashed and retreated.