by Amy Lynn
Just as I was about to go into full on panic mode, Abe came into view, my breath instantly catching in my throat. He was dressed casually in a pair of dark jeans and a black fitted button down shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow. He held his brief case in one hand, and a bag from the corner bistro in the other. He stopped midway, glancing at my desk, extra lines of worry creasing his face that hadn’t been there before. What’s going on with you, Abram Kent?
He stood staring at my desk, and I wondered if he knew that I was still here. If he did, was he debating on bolting before he had the chance to run into me, or was he trying to find the words to say hello?
Just as I was about to make my presence known, he began walking towards his office, stride confident and sure as always. If he closed his door, I would be able to sneak out undetected. If he didn’t, I was screwed for lack of a better word.
Abe set his briefcase by the desk, then his bag of food.
Do it, Abe. Shut the door.
He pulled out his chair and sat down.
Shit.
Walking over, I eased Mia’s door closed without making a sound and returned to her chair, surrounded by darkness. Now what?
I wanted to stay in this office until tomorrow. Maybe longer. I wanted to sit in the dark shadows and not have a single thought, or care who was mad or who was at fault, and not be reminded of how sexually frustrated I was.
But I couldn’t.
I needed to get my phone and see if Brad had texted or called. I needed to face Abe and fix whatever this was between us. It was time to put on my big girl panties, and although I didn’t like it or want to, it had to be done. I was not going to hide from my fears nor be a prisoner of them. I wasn’t sure how to handle Brad just yet, but I knew I wanted Abe to talk to me on his own, rather than being forced to.
So, I left Mia’s office quietly and never once looked in Abe’s direction as I made my way over to my desk. If he looked up, he would see me; if he didn’t, he wouldn’t. That simple.
The ball was in his court now.
I powered down my computer and grabbed the rest of the folders to deposit on Mia’s desk. I gathered my things from the bottom drawer, confirmed that my computer had finished powering down, locked Mia’s door, and headed in the direction of the elevator. I was thankful for the carpeting under my feet as it silenced my heels, but once I neared the elevator, the flooring gave way to tile and would make being quiet rather difficult. Fingers crossed I’d make it without fail. I was halfway across the room now…the carpet was ending, the tiles only a few steps away, the elevator was open and waiting. Almost there….
“Ava?” Abe called out.
His voice stopped me in my tracks, and I couldn’t ignore the relief that washed over me. Abe had stopped me, and he didn’t have to. He could have let me leave without so much as a word, but he wanted to talk to me.
“Yes?” I called over my shoulder, unable to face him as I felt tears sting my eyes.
“What are you doing here? It’s….late.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. He was still pissed. I could hear it in his tone. “I had to finalize a few things for Mia,” I manage to say trying to repress the shake in my voice.
There was a long pause, and just as I was about to leave Abe spoke again. His voice a shade above a whisper and closer? Yes. Much closer.
“Ava.”
“Yes?”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Abram Kent knows me too well, and he shouldn’t. He also shouldn’t care about me as much as he does, but it’s too late for that now.
“Look at me,” Abe urges.
My tears are flowing now. “No.”
Abe walks around to my front, takes one look at my tears, and crushes me to his chest.
His body is warm, and his grip firm around my shoulders. I melt into his comforting embrace as my tears dampen his shirt. He tucks my head under his chin and rubs his hands in a circular pattern on my back as I continue to cry.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Abe encourages me to open up to him.
I take a deep breath and after a moment I say, “Brad’s mad, and you’re avoiding me.” I felt Abe stiffen when I said Brad’s name, and he squeezed me tighter in hopes of covering it.
“You think I’m avoiding you?”
I pull back to meet his eyes, and his hands fall away from my body. “Aren’t you?”
“No,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Then where have you been all week?”
He studied my face for a moment, and I could see the inner struggle raging behind his eyes. “I’ve just….been busy.”
I knew he was lying, but I didn’t press the issue. Besides, it wasn’t any of my business. Abe was my friend and right now, he was being a pretty good one. I should do the same.
“It’s not true, you know,” I say, and when I see his puzzlement, I continue. “You are my friend because you make me smile. You go out of your way to say hello to me despite who you’re with. And even though you’ve never said it, I know I can count on you to always have my back. You are a good person, Abram Kent. Not because you compliment me or bring me an occasional latte, but because somehow you’re always there for me when I need you the most, like right now. Tell me you know that.”
“I do now.”
Closing the distance between us, I rise on my tiptoes and hug him tightly around the neck, my fingertips accidentally sliding into the edge of his hair. Abe’s hands circle around my waist, and his tight grip brings me closer to him. “Good,” I say.
Realization hits me that it’s the first time I have ever shown any affection towards Abe and up until a few moments ago, it’s the first time I had ever been in his arms. It felt nice. Safe.
I feel him smile against my cheek. “So, did you miss me?”
My hands move to his shoulders, and I shove him away, the heat of his body leaving mine in such a rush that the loss makes me suddenly feel bereft. “You just had to ruin it, didn’t you?” I joke.
Abe’s only response was a deep rumble escaping his chest and a sexy wink.
I blew out an exhausted breath and headed for the elevator, knowing Abe’s eyes were probably on my ass. “Goodbye, Abram.”
“So I’m perfect?” he called out to me. “I shouldn’t change a thing regarding our friendship?”
I turned in the elevator and met his eyes. “A few more lattes couldn’t hurt.”
“Done,” he says. The look on his face going from happy to….sad? Then I remembered he hadn’t heard the news about me taking Andrea’s position permanently.
“See you on Monday?” I offer.
Abe narrowed his eyes in confusion before they widened and he understood what I was saying. “With a latte,” he replied with a smile.
Pressing the steel disk for the lobby, Abe’s gaze remained locked onto me, hot and lit with fire until the moment the steel doors closed.
Jesus, sometimes he was just too damn intense.
Reaching into my bag, I retrieved my cell phone pressing the button to light up the screen. Not one reply from Brad.
I called Brad the moment I got outside, knowing he wouldn’t pick up and didn’t care in the least. I wanted him to hear me and decided to leave him a voicemail.
It was short and simple. “I love you, Brad. I’ll see you when you get home.”
Chapter 7
Brad
My cell phone buzzed on my desk. Dammit, Ava. Why couldn’t she take the hint? I didn’t sleep in the same bed with her last night. I left without saying goodbye to her this morning, and her two texts have gone unanswered. I couldn’t be more fucking clear.
I. Do. Not. Want. To. Talk.
I didn’t listen to the voicemail she left because I didn’t care. This fascination she had about fucking in every square inch of our home made me feel like our sex life wasn’t good enough for her. That I wasn’t good enough.
; Ava claims she is satisfied with our sex life and seems to enjoy herself, but if that were true, why would she push this so hard? Maybe I should just do it. Fuck her senseless like she wants. But I can’t. She is so sweet, so pure that fucking her in that way would erase all of that. Not to mention how I would feel afterwards for what I had done to her and most likely our relationship. It was too risky, and she was too damn stubborn to see it.
I’m so glad today is her last day of working for Mia Hart. I tried to be supportive of the whole job thing because I knew it’s what she wanted, but I wanted her to be at home where I knew she was safe. Safe from that bastard, Abram Kent, and anyone else that might want to bury themselves deep inside my wife. Back home in Ohio, I had her all to myself, and everyone knew she was mine with or without a ring. Here in Chicago it seemed I had to share her with every Tom, Dick, and Harry that came along, and it didn’t matter to them if she was married or not.
Abram Kent has made it quite clear he finds my wife very attractive and leaves the rest unspoken between us. Being a guy, I know what happens when you think with your dick. I know he has imagined my wife naked and fucked her in his dreams more times than I care to imagine, and I don’t like it one fucking bit. But it’s not real. Abe working so close with Ava is, and the whole situation has me on edge. He has the ability to flirt and touch her with the perfect position as co-worker to cover it all. He’ll claim it’s accidental and innocent, but I know better. I’ve done a lot of thinking with my dick too.
Ava has reassured me she can take care of herself when it comes to Abe and his shenanigans. But it’s not enough to deter someone like Kent. He can be persistent and patient when he wants to be, particularly when the prize doesn’t belong to him.
An Ava Lauren was just that. A prize. My prize. I’m a six who married an eleven. I know this. It’s obvious to everyone around me with the exception of the two people that created me. For whatever fucked up reason, they believe Ava doesn’t measure up. The concept of Ava not being good enough for me is simply ludicrous and part of the reason I wanted to move to Chicago in the first place.
Ava deserves far better than the hand she was dealt with me. Hell, I proved that. I have managed to fuck up everything in our relationship. I pretty much gave her an ultimatum when I told her about my job offer in Chicago. Move with me or we end it. “I don’t do long distance,” I had told her.
Honestly, I expected her to bail. Hoping in fact, she would. After all she was far more deserving than what I was about to give her. When she didn’t, I gave her a half-assed proposal, expecting nothing but her indefinite rejection only to be surprised by her yet again. A wedding followed a few months later, despite my parent’s disapproval, again so far from the fairytale that she deserved. As always, once the train left the track, I watched it crash and burn instead of pulling the emergency brake.
Fuck.
What did she see in me? Hell, even I couldn’t see the appeal when I thought about all the shit I have put her through.
And I’m doing it again.
I absolutely do not deserve Ava and realize that on a daily basis, but it doesn’t mean I should give in so easily to her demands. But I should give her something. After all, she wants the same package, just a different bow.
Picking up my cell, I listen to the voicemail, Ava’s voice on the other end sweet, unconditionally loving, short, and straight to the point.
I shake my head. I’m such a fucking loser.
I grab my shit as quickly as possible and go home to my waiting wife.
The house is quiet when I enter, the air thick with the aroma of lasagna, my favorite. Christ, she cooked for me even though I treated her like an ass all day. I’m officially the biggest douche on the planet.
Listening for any signs of her milling around in a nearby room, I hear the shower running in the master bathroom. Taking the stairs two at a time, I leap up them wasting no time to get to her.
Reaching the top step, a piano number I don’t recognize filters through the air, streaming from her iPod in the docking station on the vanity. As I enter the bedroom, I can see her silhouette just behind the steamy glass doors of the shower. Her back is to me as she stands under the rain showerhead, water cascading over the curves of her body to puddle at her feet. She raises her hands letting the water caress her fingertips then raises her face to them, the water sluicing down her brown hair, her spine, and over the curve of her ass.
I want her. And seeing her like this, I know what I want to do. Know what I have to do. I can’t give her what she wants, but I can give her something she’s never had before. I’m taking a step, a big step because it’s something I’ve never had before either. And for the first time, I want it.
Stripping off all my clothes, I walk naked to the shower and ease open the door. Her body is slick with moisture, and little beads of water cling to her tanned skin as she stands among the rising steam. She doesn’t stir or acknowledge I’m even there, a feeling that both excites and worries me as I step in behind her. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, and I’m unsure if it’s fear of the unknown or because I’m fulfilling a fantasy I never knew I had.
Ava raises her hands to the falling water above, and I take the opportunity to slide my hands around her waist. She goes rigid under my touch. “I’m sorry.” I say what I hope will end our silence.
A little gasp escapes her, and she melts against me, her warm body against my cool one. I release a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. I place a kiss to the back of her neck and another behind her ear. “I love you too,” I answer in regard to her unreturned message.
She starts to spin around, and I tighten my grip on her waist. She stops, giving a little moan of protest. Her head falls against my shoulder in surrender, and my hands move up to cup her slick breasts and gently tease and roll the sensitive peaks between my fingertips. Her breath catches in her throat and her hands slide to my outer thighs to pull me closer to her. I execute a sharp gasp before it leaves my lips as a wave of pleasure ripples through me. Christ.
Sweeping her hair to one side, I place her hands above her head against the marble wall and begin kissing the valley of her spine as my hands skim down the smooth skin at her sides. She trembles under the light touch of my fingertips, yet she never removes her hands from the wall.
Reaching the base of her spine, I place a kiss on each cheek before making my way back up much slower this time, loving how she writhes beneath me. I place a final kiss between her shoulder blades, spin her around to face me, and push her back against the marble with one hand. The look in her eyes is wild as her chest rises and falls with rapid shallow breaths. She likes this.
Reaching around her, I turn off the water, her body humming in anticipation of my next move. She wants me, right here in the shower. And as much as I want her, I can’t do it. Not yet.
With the water off, I open the shower door and reach back for her hand. She slides her palm into mine, and I pull her from the shower positioning her body in front of me with my hands on her hips as I walk both of us into the bedroom, dripping water as we go. When we reach the bed, I spin her around and push her back onto the blankets and she takes the opportunity to drink in every inch of me as she props herself up with both elbows. I place my knee between her legs as she pushes herself up to sitting position and kisses me. Her lips are soft but urgent as she thrusts her hands through my wet hair. Gently I guide her back down to the bed and settle over her, my mouth never leaving hers. She raises her hips to me, and I can feel her arousal slick and warm as I position myself at her opening. I let my tongue roll over hers, and the moment our kiss deepens, I slide completely inside her. She gasps against my lips as her fingertips dig into my sides and her sex clenches around me. I won’t last too long at this rate, but neither will she.
The dampness that clings to our bodies creates a chill on our skin, and the patches that have dried are sticky and hot, creating an overwhelming pleasurable sensation. I ache with the need to find my release, and my
speed increases as Ava locks her legs around my waist, my name exploding from her lips when I hit deep inside her. She ripples around me as I’m coiled tightly above her and I continue to hit that spot over and over. Her aftershocks tremble around me until I fall over the edge in ecstasy and collapse on top of her, satisfied and breathless.
Ava’s eyes are closed, and I take the opportunity to kiss her before I fall to her side, my heart still beating rapidly in my chest. I want to say something to her. Something sweet and meaningful, but my mind is a jumbled mess. Instead, I rise and slip into the bathroom to grab both of our robes, a towel, and a hairbrush for Ava’s hair. I hold the silk robe out to her, and she rises from the bed to slip into it, tying it securely around her waist. I hand her the towel, and she twists her damp hair into it as I sit down on the bed. She sits next to me and reaches for the brush, but I pull it back playfully, lean forward and kiss her hoping that my lips say what I can‘t. When I pull away, she looks embarrassed. For me? For her? What we did? I don’t like it. Not one bit.