by Brair Lake
‘You’re not ugly.’ He idly traced the scar on his cheek. It wasn’t often he thought about it. But for once, uncertainty flashed through him. Was this why she didn’t want to kiss him. Avery’s gaze followed his fingers. A frown marred her clear forehead. ‘Who gave you the scar?’
‘I told you – I got it in a fight.’
‘What kind of fight.’
‘A dirty fight.’
‘You’re not going to tell me are you.’
With a shake of his head, Mace rolled his body until he’s sitting. His arms hooking around his bent legs. ‘I’m taking the fifth.’
‘Okay.’ He continues to watch Avery as she removed her camera, checking it over. Her fingers deft as she switched it on. The whizzing of the lens, brought a smile to his face. ‘I guess you’re going to take my picture.’
‘Yup – If you don’t mind.’
Knowing that the kiss he wanted, is lost, he flashed a bright smile as she photographed him and the lake. As he watched Avery, he wonders if he’s ever spent an afternoon like this, doing nothing but watch another human being for pure pleasure, and it was a pleasure as well as a torment to watch Avery. The only time he really felt free, was when he was painting. ‘You know its tit for tat.’
‘Tit for tat.’
‘Yeah – You photographed me – I get to paint you.’
Avery placed her camera back in the rucksack. Her body coming to rest next to his as her gaze fell over the lake. ‘When.’
Mace stared. His mouth opening then closing. ‘You’ll let me paint you?’
‘Sure – I’ll be immortalized. – Besides if it’s any good – I can give to Dad for his birthday.’
A full on belly chortle left him before he could stop it. ‘What I have in mind wouldn’t be suitable for the Judge.’
‘Oh – You – mean – Naked.’
‘All in the name of art.’
Avery’s stomach dropped as her lips twitched, when Mace arched his eyebrow. ‘Nobody’s – never seen me naked.’
Avery couldn’t bring herself to look at the biker. Her gaze riveted on the lake. As he trailed his fingers along her spine, Mace chuckled. He also gave into the temptation to touch her flesh, and carefully, he slid his hand under the soft material of her loose top. Her shiver from his soft touch, warming him. ‘Some old boyfriend must have Avery.’
‘No.’
His fingers stilled. His brain denying what he hears. ‘What – you’ve only fucked with your clothes on. Or in the dark.’
Avery wiggled away from the biker. Her fingers hooking the rucksack on to her back. ‘I think we should be getting back.’
‘Avery.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it okay. Just take me home.’
Mace jumped to his feet. Hell, he’d been nineteen before he’d lost his virginity. It really wasn’t that big a deal. ‘I’d still like to paint you.’
As she waited by the Harley, Avery studied Mace as he strolled over to her. ‘Okay.’
‘Even if its naked.’
He studied Avery’s face. The conflict in her eyes. If he had to, he’d paint her clothed. It was just to his artistic eye it was a shame to hide her glorious body. Her breasts are high and firm. Her waist dipped in as her hips curved out. Mace bit onto his tongue. He shouldn’t be thinking along those lines. Not If his fantasies weren’t going anywhere. Then he gave another moan. Why the fuck had he said he wanted to see her again, never mind paint her naked. ‘In the name of art.’
‘What.’ He blinked, Avery giggled as her gaze roamed over him. ‘You want to paint me naked in the name of art.’
He gave into the invitation Avery’s flesh is giving him, and stroked her cheek. Then, giving into impulse, he lowered his head and finally tasted her. The kiss is soft. Hesitant to begin with. Lips brush against lips. He wanted more. He wanted to taste all of her. His fingers gripped into her hair, forcing her head back. His tongue slid into the mouth. Her breath is hot against his. He tasted the beer they’d drunk. The spicy aroma adding to his arousal. Avery’s hands slid up his arms. Her fingers hooking into his hair as she drew him closer. Her body pushing against his.
He ached to drag Avery to the ground, to thrust into her. To relieve the ache which has been growing since he saw her in the parking lot all those months ago. But he knew now wasn’t the time. ‘No. Not in the name of art.’
Avery blinked, her chest rising and falling. Mace watched her tits, smiling when he saw the nipples prodding through the material of her vest. ‘Then why.’
‘Because I want to see you naked.’
Chapter 5
Avery studied the photograph of Mace she had taken at the lake. Her finger traced the outline of his face, stroked his lopsided smile. They lingered over his dark eyes which are staring directly at her. She found herself smiling back. His gaze full of warmth. She peered closer. Was it warmth, or something else. Since his outrageous proposal three days ago. She has neither seen or heard from the biker. Pegging the photograph next to several others, Avery grimaced. The one chance she’d had, she went and blew it. Something she realized only as Mace drew up outside her home.
After pulling up outside the cabin, she had issued the standard invite to come inside. Her grimace deepened. There was no pretense of having to make his mind up. Or a repeat kiss similar to the one from the lake. No touching or confirming when or where she should go for him to paint her. Not that she was going to sit for him. He had simply turned down her invite and left.
It’s taken three days for her to pick up the courage to collect her camera from the rucksack. To come into her workroom and work on the prints. Her fingers traced over another picture as she withdrew it from the tray. With her frown growing, Avery ripped the photograph in half, then into quarters before dropping it into the trash can. With one last look at the prints, she left the room.
Her cell is where she left it. A slide of her thumb over the small glass panel, revealed a blank screen. There are no missed calls or texts. Three days of silence.
From the fridge, she withdrew a bottle of orange juice. Her gaze flashed to the window when she heard a vehicle approaching. Out here in the bayou, she is isolated and rarely bothered by visitors. This is how she prefers it. Her own domain away from the conflict of life. If people accused her of hiding, she always denied it.
As a teenager, when her parents were going through the divorce from hell, she had come out here to live with her grandparents. Although the cabin is small, it has every modern convenience imaginable. Her grandpa had built the cabin as a hideaway. Then, when he chose early retirement due to her grandma’s illness, they had come here to live. Avery blinked back the tears. It may be several years since they were killed in an automobile accident, she still missed them. On their death, she had inherited the cabin. Apart from the year she spent abroad, she has never lived anywhere else.
Avery stood at the front door, watching the silver Lincoln stop outside the gates. Her father stepped from behind the wheel. At fifty-eight, she has to admit, he is a good looking, but vain man. His silver-grey is perfectly cut, and there’s no sign of facial hair. His six-foot frame is lean, and Avery knew, every morning he alternated between a five-mile jog or he swam several lengths in the pool. The metallic gray suit he wore, is fitted and the gray loafers on his feet are made of the finest Italian leather.
‘Avery – You left before we had a chance to talk.’
‘I had stuff to do.’
At her father’s insistence, on the night of the exhibition, she had spent the night at his home. Leaving early the next morning. If she’s able to, she tries to spend as little time as possible at her father’s home. ‘You knew I wanted to speak to you.’
‘You can always ring.’
‘I meant what I said Friday evening – Stay away from that biker and The Scarlet Runners.’
‘I don’t think you have anything to worry about Dad - Do you.’
Avery waved her hand around her. The half-drunk bottle of juice swinging.
‘
Everyone saw you kissing that Mace fellow, and they’re all talking about it.’
‘Everyone – I doubt if more than half a dozen people witnessed that kiss.’
‘And it just takes one person to talk about it. And that’s my career ruined.’
‘Well, you have nothing to worry about. As you can see I’m here all alone. No biker – No man. Nothing to tarnish your sacred career.’
Avery’s tempted to tell her father about the road trip. About the second kiss she shared with the biker. Very little ruffles her father. She has done everything possible not to cause him any disruption. Until recently, when he called, she attended all of his functions. Her frown deepened, her lips clenching as she took a long swig from the bottle. Her gaze on the trees. What would her father say, if he knew about the painting, Mace has asked her to sit for?
Martin Lyons scanned his daughter. His mouth scrunching at the unbrushed hair. Noticing she could do with a visit to a hair stylist and some decent clothes. Her long legs exposed in the blue shorts. The bright yellow vest hung sloppily over her hips. ‘I’ve a new intern that’s just started. He’s a stranger to Downy Lakes. Maybe you could show him around. Take him out to dinner.’
Avery pulled the door to, stopping her father from entering when he went to pass her. This was a ritual. Each time he hired a new intern, he expected her to date him. In the last six years, she’s accommodated him four times. Last year she’d been away. ‘I haven’t time. I’ve a deadline to meet. Then I need to plan what I’m doing next.’
‘Avery…’
‘Look, Dad – I’m busy. You need to go. As you can see I’m not dating any biker. So you have nothing to worry about.’
Avery grimaced as she heard the sound of another vehicle. Her frown deepening as she watched the bike pull up behind the Lincoln. She hasn’t seen a soul for days, and now, neither of their timings could be worse. Martin Lyons didn’t speak as he watched the biker dismount form his bike and remove his helmet. Neither did he return the smile Mace offered him. ‘Judge. Avery.’
Avery stared open mouthed when Mace brushed his cool lips against her cheek. His hand territorial on her waist. Her skin warming when she clashed looks with her father.
‘Avery -I’ll get Drew to give you a call to arrange dinner. Maybe Shanae and I will join you both. A double date?’
Avery tried not to flinch at the tightening grip on her waist.
‘Who’s Drew?’ Mace’s voice is flat. His gaze on the judge as he drove down the lane. The excitement in her stomach makes it difficult for her to concentrate. Part of her wanted Mace to remove his hand, so that she could breath, think. Another part of her wanted him to sweep her up into his arms and kiss her. To take her to bed. Where he would leave her breathless as they became lost in their bodies and touches. Flesh against flesh. Heat rushed Avery as her thoughts became more wayward. ‘Just someone who works for Dad’ Avery swung free of Mace’s grasp, holding the door open for him as she stepped to one side.
Instead of accepting her offer to go inside, Mace stood at the doorway. His gaze searching the room. Avery came to stand beside him, pride in her eyes as she looked at her belongings. The warmth in the room. On the back of the green sofa is a patchwork quilt she is working on. It was something she had started shortly after her grandparents’ death. Made of their favorite clothing, from gardening aprons to the retirement gown her grandma had worn.
‘Hey Avery. If you’re dating someone. It’s not a problem.’
‘I’m not. It’s just that each time Dad hires someone new, he expects me to look after them.’ Avery stepped further into the room, swinging her empty bottle. ‘Can I get you a drink.’
‘A beer will be great.’
When She returned with two beers. She found Mace sitting in the hardback green leather chair. On his lap is an old photograph album. ‘There’s no pictures of you with your parents.’
‘There are. But they’re all formal and are at the parents’ homes.’
Mace smiled whimsically. His hand held hand out to her. Passing him the beer, she squealed in surprise when she finds herself tumbling into his lap. His free hand stroking her arm, left her shivering.
‘Do you ever wonder why people have kids?’ Mace dropped the album back onto the small coffee table. She knew why her parents had had her. There were expected to reproduce, both for public expectations, and for the family.
‘What are your parents like?’ Mace rolled his shoulder, lifting the beer to his mouth. His thumb stroking her thigh while he remained silent. When he did speak, his eyes have lost their warmth. ‘I don’t know.’
‘What happened.’
‘I was a dumpster baby that nobody wanted.’
Avery searched his face. Looking for signs of pain. There isn’t any. Her heart ached at the lack of emotion in either his voice or face. ‘You were adopted.’
‘No… I lived in the system - Still want to be seen with me.’
‘How come it’s taken you three days to visit me?’
‘I’ve been busy.’
Avery couldn’t think with his hand moving over her thigh, to slip underneath the back of the loose top. His fingers, leaving a trail of havoc as they traced over her flesh. She wanted to leap off his knee. To put space between them. Instead, she remains where she is, her hands resting on her knees.
‘Avery.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Kiss me.’
Avery swung her head to face Mace. Her gaze locked on his lips. When his upper lip licks over his lower lip. Her own mouth salivated as she thought about tasting him.
Chapter 6
Mace kept his gaze on Avery’s blue eyes, watching them as they darkened. Finding himself outside Avery’s home, and then to discover her talking to her father, had come as a surprise. When he had left the club, there were no intentions of coming out to the bayou. After the afternoon by the lake, he had decided Mississippi was right. Avery Lyons is not the sort of girl he should be fooling around with. Yet here he is. At her home. With her sat on his lap.
When he had first ridden up to the cabin on Saturday. The humbleness of the cabin had come as a shock. Everyone in Downy Lakes knows who the Lyons are, and what they represented. Yet, as he watched Avery, he knew this was where she belonged. Here she is relaxed. Unlike the night of the party. When she had been in his arms, he had sensed the tension in her. Her body, coiled, ready to spring free if the opportunity had risen.
He never should have invited her for a ride. There were so many shouldn’t haves. Still he continues to ignore every warning in his body. Here he is. In her cabin. With her on his lap. His hand stroking her back as her head lowered. Mace gave in, and accepted the kiss he asked her for. She tasted of orange and ham. She must have just eaten before he arrived.
Avery deepened the kiss. Her tongue sliding into his mouth. Her hands gripping his hair, while her tits pushed up against his chest. His dick twitched when she rubbed her ass. Her moan enticed an answering one from him. His body fell against the back of the chair, drawing her in closer. His fingers slid into her brunette hair, freeing it from the clip.
He is the one to break the kiss. His breathing heavy as his head lay against the chair rest. Avery’s gaze searched his face. Her cheeks flushed pink. He wanted to reach out. To place his hand over her heart. To feel the pounding. To confirm she’s as affected as he is, by this chemistry between them. Yet somehow he held himself back.
His shoulder began to throb. As he held Avery, guilt sailed through him. Three days ago, he had left her. His body fully aroused, unsated. He’d returned to the club. Coats and Dill were back, waiting for him with Mississippi. Sinbad had been missing. Casually he had strolled over to his brothers. Mississippi’s smirk irritating him. The scowl Coats was throwing at him, pissing him off. Obviously Mississippi had told them who he was with.
The digs, ruthless as they tore his manhood to shreds. Taunts he had taken in his stride, laughing them off. While scanning the room, he had come across Carrie leaning against a wa
ll. Her long legs on show thanks to the short white shorts. The peach sleeveless blouse simply tied in a knot under her tits. The flesh of her stomach inviting his touch. He had watched her eyes darken. Her body tensing slightly.
He hadn’t spoken when he left his brothers to join the woman. His body pushing against hers while he stroked her arm. Her mouth opened. Her tongue licking her lips and he’d kissed her. It hadn’t been one of those sweet innocent kisses of Avery’s. It had been one of total lust. Her tongue as demanding as his was. Carrie jerked his body into hers, grinding her hips against his dick. He’d thrust against her, frowned. His fingers dug deeply into her skull. Almost yanking her head back as he ground his mouth against hers. There was nothing soft or sweet about this kiss or the way he shoved her up against the wall. His fingers searching and finding her zipper to swiftly pull it down. His denim covered hips thrusting against her. Caught up in the heat, Carrie swung her legs around his hips, drawing him in closer.
Then he’d broken the kiss, leaning his head against her shoulder. His dick, flat, lifeless. Not a twitch. He wanted to escape. To walk away. To leave the woman. He wanted a shower. Instead, he brought the slut to orgasm with his fingers. When her fingers slipped to his zipper. He had grabbed her hand. He didn’t want her to know there was no life below the belt. Well, not for her, because for Avery he was hard. He’d kissed her on the head, then walked away.
The next morning, he had woken with the motherfucker of hangovers. His hand stretched across his bed, searching for Avery. Only to discover it was empty. There hadn’t been any Avery, and with a groan, he rolled out of the bed. In the shower. He’d jacked off to images of Avery on her knees. Her mouth greedily accepting his cock as he pumped into her. As he dried his half sated body, he’d promised himself no more Avery.
Shortly after leaving his room, The Scarlet Runners left the club. When they pulled up outside The Hybrids compound. His hangover hadn’t eased, and his head continued to throb. A glance at Sinbad, confirmed he wasn’t fairing any better, and his smile was whimsical as he dismounted his bike.