“This is such a great book,” she said, picking up a copy of Jason Reynold’s Ghost and running her fingertips over it.
“Dude is talented.”
“You said your niece is only eight though, right?” She eyed him, a slight grin on her face and he chuckled.
“I know it’s a little advanced for her but Matthew and Zoe let her watch those soap operas that come on the Disney Channel all the time. She’s reading at a sixth-grade level—I think she can handle it. And I’d rather for her to be reading than being brainwashed by that goofy shit on Disney.”
“I can definitely dig it. Reading is fundamental.”
“Alright, Lavar Burton.”
She laughed at his Reading Rainbow quip. “Shut up, Elias. For real though. Reading Rainbow was my show. I was a nerdy kid,” she said shrugging when he widened his eyes and looked at her. “Reading was my absolute favorite past time, aside from watching basketball. I got it honestly. My mom’s an English professor.”
“You ever think about writing?” he asked, his eyes curious under the light of the fireplace. She shook her head.
“I love like… storytelling. But I’m not a great writer.”
“Reading was my thing too, even when I was wildin’ out. Stephen King, Zora Neale Hurston, James Baldwin, got really into Chuck Palahniuk for a minute.”
“Fight Club is classic,” Ava said grinning. “But I never read the book.”
“You should, it’s—“
“Always better than the movie,” she finished for him.
“Although that’s one where it might be running neck and neck. I had a big Cormack McCarthy phase too.”
Ava grinned, remembering their earlier conversation, and how effortlessly he’d quoted The Road.
“You were all over the place,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes, as she absently thumbed through the book.
“I just like good shit,” he said, haphazardly taping the corner of a box. “If it’s dope, I roll with it. Being confined to just one thing— that’s never been me.”
Ava twisted her lips. She was the exact opposite. Stability made her feel safe. She would try new things but only after she analyzed it thoroughly and was comfortable.
“You should sign this,” she said, passing the book to him, her fingertips lightly brushing against his. She grabbed a pen off the floor next to the scissors.
He grinned but followed her suggestion, writing in strong lines inside the book cover before passing the book back to her. Ava immediately opened it, running a finger over the ink as she read.
“During your life, never stop dreaming. No one can take away your dreams.” —Tupac Shakur
“You are the cool uncle, quoting ‘Pac.”
“You’re kinda nosy, Ava,” Elias teased, glancing up at her.
“Shut up.”
He laughed. “She doesn’t even know who Pac is for real anyway. He’s just some old dead dude who took pictures with his shirt off and wore bandanas all the time.”
Ava smiled.
“But I’mma teach her.”
“Has your niece seen your short film then, since it’s focused on middle school kids?”
He shook his head. “Nah. No one has really. It wasn’t even about all that. Just a project to help out my boy.”
“That didn’t look amateur, though, Elias,” she pressed. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t push so hard, especially from someone so clearly reluctant. But his trailer was incredibly impressive. He was incredibly impressive. And she was beyond curious to view the project in its entirety. “I wanna see it.”
“Okay,” he said.
She tilted her head and stared at him. “For real.”
“Okay,” he repeated, still smirking, his tone too flat for her to take seriously.
She dropped it, though, and picked up her drink and took a sip. A few seconds later, she couldn’t help but look at Elias again, discreetly studying his handsome profile as she wrapped a doll with an abnormally large head. He had a small slash on his right eyebrow, like maybe he’d gotten to a fight and it left a scar. His beard was just a little rougher than it’d been even a few hours ago. His eyelids were a bit lower, making his thick eyelashes seem longer. And his lips—they were masculine but full. He was squinting, biting the bottom corner of his lip as he wrapped presents, something Ava noticed he did when he seemed to be in deep thought.
Ava’s gaze dropped from his face to his bicep, noting the tip of the tattoo stretching just beneath his t-shirt sleeve, able to make out that it said “Kayla” in beautiful script. He noticed her gaze on his tat and he grinned slightly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. She knew it had to be tough, wrapping Christmas gifts for his littlest niece, who was just about as old as Kayla would’ve been now.
He finished wrapping the last gift and she smiled, watching as he moved toward the large tree, shoving them beneath it.
“Dude, not like that.” She shook her head at the mess he was making, shooing him away as she arranged the presents beneath the tree neatly.
When she finished, she turned to see Elias still sitting on the floor, resting his back comfortably against the couch, watching her. Instantly, her entire body heated. That look in his eyes was… disconcerting. Arousing.
“Come’ere,” he said, his deep voice quiet, playing against the soft backdrop of the music.
Ava made her way back to the couch, sitting with her back against it as well. There was still a couple of feet between them and Elias looked at her.
“Closer.”
His eyes were hooded, the slight grin on his face beckoning. She hesitated for a second before scooting herself along the plush carpet, so that their shoulders were nearly touching.
“Better?”
“Almost.” His dark brown eyes were teasing and his gaze raked over her features. “I appreciate your help with the gifts.”
“I appreciate your help with… everything.”
“I told you that ditch was a win for me.”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. Elias grinned and ran a hand over the back of his neck, releasing a short yawn, which made his chest expand.
“You’re tired. I should g—“
“Nah,” he interrupted. His eyes were low. “Chill out with me for a minute. Unless you’re too sleepy to hang?”
She shook her head, probably way too quickly. “I’m a night owl, honestly.”
“Me too.” He grinned at her.
“What?” She asked when he kept looking at her.
“You really are pretty, Ava.” She was blushing, again.
“You really are charming, Elias.”
He grinned, narrowing his eyes as he chewed on the inside of his lip.
“You keep sayin’ that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It could be perceived as disingenuous.”
He arched a brow, still smirking. “You think I’m ‘disingenuous’ now?”
“No.”
“Good. Because that’d say more about you and your inability to take compliments than me.”
“You have a smart-ass mouth, Elias.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his deep tone playful.
“No, you’re not.”
“You’re right. I’m not. I don’t even know what the hell we’re talkin’ about right now.”
She laughed, tilting her head back and covering her mouth to contain the noise. She dropped her hand and shook her head, still smiling.
Elias stared at her for a second, a small grin on his lips. He absently scratched the “Kayla” tattoo she’d admired earlier.
“This is beautiful.” Her voice was soft. She reached and ran her fingers over Elias’ warm skin, grazing the tat.
“Daniel did it for me about a year ago.”
“He’s a tattoo artist?”
“Nah,” Elias shook his head as Ava continued tracing her fingers over the curved lines, noting the chill bumps that dotted his skin as she did so, and the desire in her lower belly tightened into a dull ache. He me
t her gaze, his deep brown eyes seeming to peer through her, and her pulse sped up even more. “He used to do tattoos here and there back when he was in college. I brought him out of retirement.”
“Well, this is amazing,” she said, her fingers still tracing the swirling lines. “It’s so detailed and intricate.”
“You got any ink?” he asked, grinning at her when she finally dropped her hand from his arm.
“One tattoo,” she managed. “The required college-era lower back tat.”
Elias chuckled, his warm timber deep and relaxed.
“A butterfly?” His eyes were dancing with amusement and something just beneath the surface that made the ache in her lower belly increase.
Ava shook her head, burying her face in her hands as she laughed. “I am so cliché.”
He smiled, tilting his head up. “Lemme see.”
Ava eyed him for a minute, trying not to smile at his alluring half-grin, before pushing the roll of unused paper aside and getting onto her knees next to him. She lifted her fluffy pajama shirt to just below her belly button and Elias leaned over to inspect the tattoo she’d gotten from a guy named Nasir who frequented Clark Atlanta’s campus, looking for goofy girls to give predictable tattoos to. He was so close she could feel his breath warm against her back, and her heart rate doubled as she inhaled his clean, masculine scent, trying to regulate her breathing.
“This is actually good work,” he said, his voice low as his rough fingers grazed the silver-dollar-sized butterfly that rested just below her waistline, setting her already warm skin on fire.
“Thank God. I couldn’t have a lower back tat and have it be ugly,” she managed, licking her lips. He was still tracing the lines his rough fingers, and she exhaled, struggling not to melt into his touch.
“Ava.”
“Elias.”
“Spend New Year’s Eve with me.”
His fingers dipped, tracing the wings of the butterfly, his invitation coming from nowhere.
“Where’d that come from?” she asked aloud.
“Me.” There were traces of amusement in his voice. It felt as if he moved closer to her. The air shifted, became dense, and Ava inhaled when his fingertips trailed further up her back, tracing her spine. Her eyes fluttered closed.
“I have a little get together every year at the house,” he explained, his voice low. “We do it low-key, just chill and hang out. I want you to be there.”
She released a breath, shaking her head. She knew she was supposed to be resisting him but couldn’t quite remember the exact details of why, not with him so close, smelling so good, his body emitting masculine energy that affected and charged every cell inside of her.
“I don’t think…”
She turned, looking over her shoulder at him. He sat upright, their gazes connected, his hot and intense, despite the slight grin on his face.
“You don’t think what?”
“I mean,” she shook her head, glancing toward the fireplace.
“You mean?” he prompted, tilting his head.
“I’m not really looking to like, get involved or… start anything.”
He smiled as if she was adorable.
“I just want more time with you, Ava.” He said it simply, as if she was silly for putting up a fuss.
“You have more time with me now.”
“I want more.” His baritone was quiet. He reached, pulling lightly on the bottom hem of her shirt.
She turned her head, meeting his eyes, their lips only centimeters apart now. She could feel his warm breath against her lips, dizzying and intoxicating.
“You comin?” he asked, offering her a teasing grin, his eyes hooded even under the light of the fire place.
“Will you let me see your entire film?”
His smile increased, and he tugged again at the hem of her pajama shirt, willing her even closer.
“I’ll let you see whatever you want, Ava,” he said low against her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple, then just below her earlobe. Her skin was on fire, and her eyes fluttered closed as she sucked in a quick breath at the feel of his warm lips on her.
She should move away.
Another soft kiss on the side of her chin.
Move away from him, Ava.
Another one on her neck.
Move.
And she did. She turned her head and met his lips. A rush of air escaped her, and when she inhaled, it was all Elias. His kiss was hungry but controlled, like he didn’t want her to be scared away but also as if he’d been waiting for this moment all night.
He pulled her bottom lip between his first, before kissing her top lip. She drew in a breath, her head swimming with Elias’ masculine scent, when she finally opened for him.
He slid his warm tongue into her mouth then, stroking hers in a languid rhythm. He made a noise from deep in his chest, when a soft noise left her lips, pulling her closer by her shirt, his thumb making slow circles on her lower abdomen.
She was lost. Her body felt liquid, molten. Her thoughts floating and swirling away from her, and she was unable to grasp anything but the almost dream-like attraction she felt to Elias.
Whatever mental battle she was fighting with herself to resist Elias was shot, as the kiss picked up pace, Elias’ facial hair scratching against her skin as their tongues tangled in an erotic, staccato rhythm.
This wasn’t a good idea. Wasn’t smart. Wasn’t her. But she turned in his muscular arms at his urging, kicking the long forgotten wrapping paper across the plush carpet as she straddled him. He pulled at her hip with one hand, while the other cupped the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair as he pressed her more firmly against his mouth.
There were few things more sensual than a kiss. The intimacy. The prelude to more. The way it could be aggressive, or slow and sensual, sweet or hungry and fierce. Ava didn’t have a lot of sex in college- only with her boyfriend, Damon, who she lost her virginity to senior year. They were together for a couple of years and then, months after they split, she met and became consumed with Ty.
So, she didn’t know sex with a lot of men, but she knew the sensuality of a kiss. And she knew that Elias, after only a few minutes in his arms, was the best she’d ever experienced. Because that’s what she was doing—experiencing him. His light then heavy touches. The way he breathed against her mouth and tasted of whiskey and traces of cinnamon. The low sounds that left his chest, the weight of his breathing. Her skin was memorizing his touches.
Elias kissed in cadence with his personality shifts. One second, it was slow and leisurely, his tongue playfully dipping in and out of her mouth the next, it was hungry and aggressive, his fingers tugging lightly at her hair as he bit on her lower lip.
Elias pulled at her thighs again, and she instinctively rolled her hips against his erection, a low hum escaping her lips, matching the deep sound that left his muscled chest, even though there were still layers of clothes between them.
The kiss was turning feverish, electric, as she rocked on him, her fingers trailing over the hard planes of his chest, when she pushed her fingers beneath his cotton t-shirt in an effort to reach his skin.
In the back of her mind, she was trying to process what was happening, how it was that Elias kissed her like he knew her. He reached, cupping her face, letting his hands slide down her neck, his kiss hungry as he took control once more, his warm tongue demanding as it swept against hers.
She was grinding against him now, wantonly, like she’d lost her mind because she kind of had.
God, what was she doing?
She’d only met this man tonight— in spite of their high school connection. She was in his parent’s house. She’d never in her thirty-one years had a one night stand, or come close to one. But she wanted Elias. And it was spurring and igniting everything inside of her as she melted into his kiss again, loving the way he was tugging lightly at her hair, as he swept his tongue against hers.
A burst of laughter from either Daniel or Jer
emiah suddenly floated down the hallway from the den, and Ava stopped abruptly, the air leaving her lungs in short, heavy spurts as she pressed her forehead against Elias’. She pulled back slightly and met his dark brown eyes, wetting her lips, tasting him there, wanting more. He grinned a little, seemingly unsurprised by the intensity of their chemistry. But his gaze never wavered from hers and she could make out the tiny specs of amber in his, as he stared at her, chest rising and falling quickly, waiting for her to decide how far they were going to take this.
Ava climbed off his lap, chest still heaving and looked off toward the flickering fireplace, straightening her pajamas. She touched her tongue to the corner of her mouth, unsurprised to find that Elias was still watching her. Their gazes linked again, and Ava swallowed, heading toward the bedroom.
Elias stood and followed her.
8
He was caught up. Buried so deep inside Ava the only thing he could feel was her — warm and tight, her body naturally pulsing in rhythm to his movements.
She smelled faintly of baby lotion and something else that was succulent but subtle and made him want to bury his nose in her smooth skin. He reached up and ran his fingertips over her features, from her forehead to her soft lips, and she sucked the tip of his thumb into her mouth. Shit. Instantly, he swelled inside her even more.
When he first slid inside her, the way she gasped and stared up at him, her tightness, made him think it’d been a minute for her. Ava’s midnight-colored eyes were translucent now when she met his gaze, her lips slightly parted, her accelerated breaths making her ample breasts rise and fall in a tempting rhythm. So, he lifted his head, capturing a hardened nipple between his lips, rolling it against his tongue, suckling harder when Ava moaned, her head falling forward so that her chin brushed the top his head as she wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer, continuing the intoxicating rhythm of her hips.
The room was dark, save for the tiny, battery-operated decorative Christmas tree that was on the dresser across the room, and it almost appeared as if Ava was glowing beneath its yellow lights when he released her nipple. She met his eyes again before she slid back down against his chest, and he could feel the staccato beat of her heart beat against his sternum as she pressed her lips to his, kissing him slowly, sweetly, without regard for her transparency, without pretense.
The Night Before Page 8