by Amy Andrews
SEVEN
Ava smiled at him encouragingly. ‘It’s okay, you know,’ she said, ‘to be a little...daunted. It’s really quite common. Some guys are a little freaked out at first because of who I am... They don’t want to screw it up and it makes them...nervous...reticent. But really, I’m just a woman.’
She leaned forward, conscious of her gown gaping a little more and the lowering of his gaze. She picked up his hand, and placed it halfway up her thigh.
‘A flesh and blood woman,’ she continued. ‘Don’t think of me as a...celebrity. I’m just Ava...a woman just like any other.’
Blake’s gaze stayed fixed on where his hand met her flesh as Ava straightened. Her thigh was warm beneath his palm. And very, very female. Something his erection appreciated with gusto. So much that it almost made him forget her ridiculous statement.
Lord. Her ego sure as hell hadn’t been scared into submission last night.
She didn’t intimidate him.
But she definitely got under his skin.
He dropped his hand from her thigh before he did something completely contradictory like smoothing it up. All the way up. He looked up instead—a much safer alternative—as he mentally thrust the temptation aside.
‘No, Ava.’
Ava heard the roughness of longing in his voice despite his denial. What was his problem? And then suddenly something else occurred to her and she felt both stupid and insensitive. Throwing herself at him—an injured war veteran.
‘Oh, God, I’m so sorry,’ she whispered. ‘Your injuries...’ She shook her head. ‘I should have thought. I didn’t realise you couldn’t...that you can’t...that you’re...impotent... I’m so sorry...’
Blake almost choked at her wild assumption. Right at this second he’d never been more bloody potent in his life.
Or more goaded into proving it.
‘Screw it,’ he growled, forgetting all the reasons he shouldn’t as he grabbed her hand and yanked.
Ava barely had a chance to catch her breath before she landed hard in his lap, looming over him, her thighs straddling his. Her gown had flown open and her bare breasts grazed the neckline of his shirt. Her hands clutched for purchase, finding the hard wall of muscle that constituted his chest.
But she didn’t protest or stop to clarify. She just followed her instincts. And her instincts led her to his mouth. A mouth that was seeking hers, his fingers spearing into her hair, his hands dragging her head down to his.
Her mouth down to his.
And when his lips touched hers, full and firm and open, she opened to him too, parting instantly, her nostrils full of the intoxicating scent of him, her tongue savouring the hint of beer and the fuller, earthier taste of aroused man.
His hand slid over her hip to the small of her back, his palm pressing hard against her, and her belly contracted. He slid it up, following the furrow of her spine, and she shivered. He trekked it around to her front, filling his palm with the soft flesh of her breast, squeezing and rubbing his finger across the turgid peak of her nipple, and she arched her back and moaned, ‘Blake,’ against his mouth.
His other hand slid to her butt cheek and squeezed and she couldn’t think for the bombardment of sensations. For the smell of him filling her head. The taste of him consuming her senses. She just needed more.
To be closer, nearer. To imprint herself. To feel him around her.
To feel him inside her.
She couldn’t remember ever wanting a man as desperately as she wanted Blake. Men and sex came easy to her and Blake’s resistance had been a challenge. But this wasn’t triumph she was feeling. This was purely sexual. Blake gave and gave and gave—plundering, stroking, kneading, touching—and she wanted everything he had to offer.
She squirmed against him, signalling a need she was too far gone to ask for. And that was when she became aware of it. A hardness beneath her right thigh. A flatness. Not like his other thigh that had the flexibility of hot flesh over steely muscle. There was no give there. Just rigidity. And a very definite edge. His prosthesis.
But then he was yanking her hips forward, bringing her in contact with more flesh on steel. Something hard and long and very, very potent. Making her forget everything else. She tried to move, to obey the dictates of her body, to grind down on him, to feel every inch of his erection, but he held her there, both hands clamped on her butt now, kissing her deeper, wilder, wetter.
‘Blake,’ she muttered against his mouth as she tried to squirm, to rub herself shamelessly along the length of him.
Blake groaned as he held her fast. He’d only meant this as a demonstration of his capabilities but it was careening out of his control. Her mouth tasted like beer and sin and he wanted to taste her all over. He hadn’t bargained for how perfect she’d feel in his hands. How she’d melt into him, all her can’t-touch-this veneer evaporating.
Or how very much he’d been denying himself.
Ava Kelly was one hell of a woman and telling himself she was technically still a client and a pain-in-the-butt one to boot just wasn’t going to cut it now his erection had taken control.
He wanted to get her naked, he wanted to get her horizontal; he wanted to get her under him. His head was full of her throaty whimpers, his hands were full of her flesh, his mouth was full of her taste but it still wasn’t enough.
Her hand found his erection then and he moaned as she palmed it, pressing himself into her hand. His zip fell away beneath her questing fingers and then she was reaching inside his underwear, freeing him, her palm hot against him as she squeezed his girth.
Blake broke off the kiss on a guttural groan, his eyes practically rolling back in his head as he dragged in much-needed air. Her forehead pressed against his and he opened his eyes to the delectable sight of her breasts swaying hypnotically, the light pink nipples darker now as they formed two hard points.
With her hair falling around them in a curtain and the only sound between them the thick rasp of their breath, it was as if they were the only two people in the world. Far away from the world of Ava Kelly and her entourage. Which was just as well with her hand getting so intimately acquainted with his freed erection.
He shut his eyes as she wrapped her hand around him and started to smooth it up and down the length of him.
‘God, you’re so freaking hard,’ she whispered into the space between them. ‘I knew there was a reason I’d put my trust in you.’
The words were like a bucket of cold water and Blake froze, his eyes snapping open.
Trust.
She had to use that word?
He looked down at himself, at her hand on him. What the hell was he doing?
God, how had this got so out of hand? He was only supposed to be proving he could get it up, not demonstrating its full working capabilities. Having sex with Ava was a bad idea and her being practically naked with a hand full of his erection didn’t make it any less so.
Every instinct he owned—prior to five minutes ago—had told him to stay away, and he would do well to remember that.
She trusted him, for God’s sake.
The woman had so few people in the world to put her faith in and he was taking advantage of her sucky situation.
‘Stop...wait,’ he said, shifting in the chair, covering her hand with his, grateful when she stopped the mindlessly good stroking.
Ava frowned, her hand stilling. Her head spun from the sexual buzz, her brain already someplace else where he felt good and hard inside her. ‘Wha...?’ she said, pulling away slightly.
‘Just...no...hop up...’ he said. ‘Let me up.’
Blake struggled to get up, trying to displace her safely and stand himself without falling in a heap. Ava stood there looking confused, her gown open, her body flushed and lovely, and he turned away to dispel the image, to block it from hi
s sight.
‘Blake?’
He felt a hundred kinds of idiot at her plaintive query as he tucked his protesting erection in and zipped himself up. His breathing was still all bent out of shape and he raked a hand through his hair as he took a moment to gather himself.
When he turned back he was grateful she’d done up her gown. But she’d gone from looking confused and unsure to pretty pissed off.
Not that he could blame her. His erection knew exactly how she felt.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have started that... I was trying to prove that everything was in full working order. I just got a little...carried away.’
Ava glared at him. ‘You think?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. Because what else could he say?
Ava tried to wrap her head around what had just transpired. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘What happened?’
Blake took a steadying breath. ‘I don’t want to do this.’
Ava snorted. ‘You wanted it all right. You wanted it when you kissed me, you wanted it when you touched me and you sure as hell wanted it when I had my hand in your pants.’
Blake had to concede she made some very good points. ‘Of course my body wants you,’ he said. ‘I’m a man and you’re one of the most beautiful women on the planet and, as you pointed out before, we’re attracted to each other. But I’m thirty-three years old, Ava, not some horny teenager who can’t control himself. My brain’s telling me this is a stupid thing to do.’
Ava gave another snort. ‘That’s not what your erection was telling me.’
‘Yeh, well...’ he raked a hand through his hair ‘...erections tend to be fairly unreliable indicators of what a man should and shouldn’t do.’
‘Well, at least they’re honest,’ she said vehemently. ‘At least they tell it like it is. I know you wanted me right now, Blake, and I don’t know why you’re pretending you don’t, why you’re pretending it’s a bad thing. We’re just two human beings coming together, finding a little pleasure together. It’s really not that complicated.’
Blake was struck suddenly by how spoiled she was sounding. He’d forgotten how irritating that was in the last twenty-four hours. Obviously she’d pegged him as a sure thing and she wasn’t impressed with being knocked back. Clearly she was used to getting her way sexually too.
He half expected to see her stamp her foot.
‘Is it so hard to believe that someone doesn’t want to have sex with you?’
Ava heard the underlying disbelief in his question and it made her crankier. ‘Frankly, yes.’ Men wanted her—always had. And she’d taken her pick.
Blake almost laughed as her haughty look came back and, even barely dressed in a clingy gown, she managed to look imperious. ‘Oh, my God, you’ve never been knocked back, have you?’
Ava gave a very definitive shake of her head. ‘Nope.’
Blake did laugh this time. He’d always had a fairly high success rate with women, even since the explosion. But part of becoming a man, in his opinion, was realising that not every woman was going to think you were sex on a stick.
And it was how a guy took that news that separated the boys from the men.
‘Well, welcome to the real world,’ he said.
Ava did not think any of this was funny. She still felt jittery as her cells came down from their sexual high without the satisfaction they craved. ‘Oh, I see,’ she said, putting her hand on her hip. ‘This is some kind of life lesson for me, is it?’
Blake should have been astounded by her egocentricity but nothing about her surprised him any more. ‘You know, Ava, this may come as a surprise, but not everything is about you.’
Ava ignored his derisive put down in favour of getting to the bottom of a situation she’d never been in before. ‘So...let me get this straight. You’re attracted to me but you don’t want to have sex with me?’
Blake smiled at her obvious confusion. ‘Oh, I want to, all right. I’m just not going to.’
Ava stared at him. Well, now she was totally lost. Why not take what you wanted, especially when it was on offer? ‘But...why not?’
Blake shook his head. She really had no clue about the real world. She was so used to getting her way and taking what she wanted from life, because she could, that she never stopped to think that some things were better off left alone.
‘Because it’s a whole lot of complicated for a few lousy nights, Ava.’
Ava folded her arms. ‘There would be nothing lousy about them.’
Blake smiled at her snooty self-assurance. ‘I’m sure you’re right,’ he conceded. If she did other things even half as well as she kissed he was doomed.
‘So what’s the problem?’
He sighed. Obviously she needed it spelled out. ‘I’m supposed to be offering you safe harbour, Ava, not taking advantage of you.’
As a British soldier his uniform had been a symbol of security and he’d always taken that seriously. It just didn’t feel right somehow to violate the trust she’d put in him. Just because he hadn’t asked for it, didn’t mean he was going to mess with it.
‘And that would make perfect sense if I was here rocking in a corner and jumping at shadows like some little scared mouse. But I’m coming on to you. I think consent to take advantage of me is implied. So what else have you got?’
Blake pushed a hand through his hair at her casual dismissal of values he held dear.
God, she was irritating.
‘How about, I don’t like women who are spoiled and self-centred no matter how beautiful they are or how good they look naked. It’s not an attractive quality and I’m not some guy who’ll turn a blind eye to that just to get laid. I don’t want to be your distraction of choice while you’re slumming it on a canal boat. I’m not some plaything for a rich woman to amuse herself with.’
Ava blinked at his unflattering appraisal of her. Okay, she might be used to getting her own way but she wasn’t a complete egomaniac either. She didn’t regard him as a plaything. She just saw a situation they could both have a little fun with.
‘I don’t see you like that,’ she said, dropping her arms until they wrapped around her waist. ‘This isn’t me being bored or spoiled either. I just don’t see why we should deny ourselves when we both want this.’
‘Well, I guess in your hedonistic world you wouldn’t,’ he said. ‘But I learned a few years ago to stay away from things that can blow up in your face and, lady, you have highly explosive written all over you.’
Ava knew that he hadn’t meant to flatter her but she was anyway. She was so used to being described as cool and snooty. The media had dubbed her Keep-Away Kelly when she’d really hit the big time because of the aloofness she’d worked so hard to cultivate.
It was her point of difference and she’d worked it.
To be told she was the opposite was strangely thrilling. ‘Thank you.’
Blake rolled his eyes. ‘It wasn’t a compliment.’
Ava grinned at his terse exasperation. ‘I know. Which strangely only makes me want you more.’
Blake shook his head. There wasn’t much else that could be said here. He was determined to keep things between them strictly platonic. She seemed determined to do the opposite.
Ken Biddle had better catch his man quick. Before Ava caught hers.
‘I’m going to bed,’ he said.
Ava watched him turn away, admiring the back view of him as he veered to the left and headed down the corridor, presumably for the bathroom. His limp was barely discernible. ‘You should know I don’t give up so easily,’ she called.
Blake felt her silky threat—or was that a promise?—land on target right between his shoulder blades. ‘I’ll consider myself warned,’ he said, without turning around, then stepped gratefully into the bathroom
and shut the door.
He leaned against it heavily, gripping the door handle hard, trying to get control of a groin that had leaped to life again at her sexy warning. His hand brushed something and he looked down to find a scrap of black lace in the shape of a bra.
He groaned as he pulled it off, and held it up in front of him, letting it dangle from his index finger. Pink ribbon weaved along the cup edges delineated them and a little pink bow at the cleavage, complete with diamanté, winked out at him. His groin went from aching to throbbing.
This was the sort of stuff she was going to be wearing under her clothes?
Fabulous.
He hung it back where he found it then pulled out his mobile from his pocket, scrolling to Joanna’s number and hitting ‘message’.
Thx heaps 4 the lingerie you meddler.
He hit send and waited where he was for the few seconds it took to get a reply. The phone vibrated in his hand and he read the screen. Thought you might like.
Blake tapped a reply. I don’t.
A few more seconds. OK. Sure. Keep forgetting you are the *only* man on earth not born with the lingerie gene.
Blake shook his head. Don’t Joanna. Not going there.
Joanna’s Uh-huh reply rankled.
I’m not.
The reply came swiftly. Uh-huh.
He grimaced as his fingers flew across the touch pad. God you’re irritating. I should have let Charlie strap you to the front of his bike when you were 2.
Blake waited for the reply. And waited. He was about to give up and get into the shower when his phone vibrated in his hand again. Four words that hit like a sledgehammer.
What would Colin say???
Blake bumped his head back against the door. Low blow. His mate would think he’d lost his mind for just having turned down an invitation to heaven with one of the world’s most nicely put-together women.
Another vibration. He’s dead. You’re alive. So live.
Blake hated it when Joanna played on his guilt over Colin. And she knew it. I definitely should have let Charlie use u as a human bumper bar.
A smiley face appeared on the screen. Love you 2. Night xxx.