by J. J. Sorel
“Are you good, Aggie? After yesterday…” I studied her face. She looked well rested, nothing like the frail woman I’d witnessed the day earlier.
“I’m terrific. Never felt better. What do you mean by yesterday?”
Her eyes narrowed as if she had no idea what I’d alluded to. Either Aggie was a great actress, or she had completely forgotten my visiting her bedside.
“Can I make you a martini?” I asked, shifting my weight.
“You’re being evasive. But yes, do.”
“There’s no ice,” I said, staring down at the empty ice bucket.
Aggie was lost in her own world again, so I scurried off to the kitchen and found it bare. No food in sight. Only gleaming stainless-steel bench tops, as if it hadn’t seen food or activity ever.
I opened the fridge and found it empty. I told myself that perhaps the cook needed to shop, although that did little to quell my suspicion.
Pushing the button, I held the bucket under the cascade of ice-cubes and then returned to my task of pouring spirits into the martini shaker.
Without giving it another thought, I poured the mix into two glasses. I really needed something. My nerves were on edge due to the planned meeting with Bronson later on that evening.
I still hadn’t decided what I should do. A battle raged between my heart and head.
While I carried our drinks back onto the balcony, Aggie scrutinized me with alarming intensity. “You look unhappy, Ava.”
Sipping my martini, I wondered if I was that transparent or whether Aggie really did possess mind-reading skills.
I shook my head. “No, I’m good.”
“Tell me about that strong man of yours. Have you rid yourself of that weakling lawyer?”
Had I told her Justin was a lawyer? Having not slept well, I could hardly recall what I’d told Aggie about my personal life.
“Yes.” I kept it short and sweet.
“There’s no need to be coy, Ava. I like to know about you. It keeps me youthful and fresh staying in touch with the romantic shenanigans of the young and beautiful.”
“It’s not a game, Aggie. I’m too sensitive for that.”
Wincing at my brittle tone, she replied, “Of course you are.” She sat back again. “I always liked listening to stories about romance. We’re women, after all.” She chuckled. “And just because I’m old doesn’t mean I don’t feel anything.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve had a few issues with Bronson.”
“The tall, handsome, strong one. The one that’s been in prison?”
I nodded. “I found something in his diary about getting back at Justin by sleeping with me.”
“Mm… revenge. A natural urge.”
For some reason, the icy note in her voice made me tense. “I am more concerned that he’s using me as a weapon.”
“Using you as a weapon? Tell me, how was the sex?”
I flinched. Was I about to share that with an old lady who happened to be my boss? My face heated up.
“Ah… that good. He made your toes curl?”
“Too much information, Aggie.”
She laughed. “Monty made my toes curl.”
My face turned sharply toward her. “What happened to Monty?”
“He married Penelope. But we were still together. You see, no one was as acquainted with his heart as I was.” Her eyes had gone remote again. “We met, behind Penelope’s back, sneaking about like teenagers.” She sniffed.
“You had an affair, you mean?”
“It was never that. I hate that term,” she snapped.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“You possess a curious spirit, child. I did too, once,” she said in a conciliatory note. “Monty and I were together from the start. And he’s still here.” She touched her heart. “We’ll be together again. It’s eternal love.”
“Do you still talk to him?”
Aggie took a sip of her drink. “Read to me. The part where Cathy’s dying.”
That again, I thought. I could have almost recited it by heart.
The book still lay by the table where I’d left it last.
I flicked through the pages that seemed to know where I wanted to go, for the worn hardback opened on Aggie’s favorite passage effortlessly.
I read Heathcliff’s lines: “I have not broken your heart—you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine…” And once again, Aggie held her arms and rocked.
I even started to wonder whether Aggie experienced her memory of Monty through Heathcliff. From the little I’d learned of Monty, he seemed just as humorless and hardened in spirit as Emily Bronte’s brooding hero.
She lit yet another cigarette and regarded me. “That’s enough. Now, are you going to forgive your new man? He had every right to seek revenge from that lawyer.”
“They’re brothers,” I said.
The fact that Aggie didn’t even flinch at that comment made my spine stiffen. “Then it’s only natural. Betrayal, revenge, and robbery are common among blood relatives.”
Despite that grim outlook, I’d grown accustomed to Aggie’s dramatic take on things.
“They’re not related by blood. Bronson was adopted.”
“Oh, an orphan. Clarke was an asshole,” she said.
“Who was Clarke?”
“My brother. Monty, who was also an orphan, arrived at the age of five, my age.” She looked up to meet my eyes. “My older brother used to lock him up. He did awful things to him. Until Monty grew up. Then he became a tall, strong man, and the tables turned. Monty had revenge sewn into his heart.”
“That sounds rotten. About Clarke, I mean.”
“It was more than that. It was criminal. Clarke was deranged. The horrid things he did to Monty.”
“What happened to Clarke?”
“He died from alcohol abuse.” She took a sip of her martini. “You’ll forgive Bronson, I hope. I can understand his need to get back at this Justin, especially if he was responsible for imprisoning him.”
“Did I tell you about that?”
“How else would I know?” She tilted her head. “Answer my question.”
“I’m meeting Bronson later on. He just told me that…” I played with my fingers.
“That he didn’t realize he’d fall so hard for you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes. Something like that.”
“Ah…” She continued to puff on her cigarette pensively.
“He scratched our names on a tree in the park,” I said.
Aggie looked pleased. “Oh… that’s eternal.”
A shiver ran up my spine. “Huh?”
“Initials carved into a tree will link two souls together forever. For certain. Monty and I are there.” She pointed in the direction of the park.
“But you don’t think it’s too soon? We’ve only been together once.” I asked.
“Darling. I saw you the day after. You were walking on cloud nine. That’s love. None of this ‘get to know each other and let’s see where it goes’ nonsense. One knows straight away. Chemistry. It’s all about chemistry. It hits you hard here”—she touched her heart—“and it happens from the moment you set eyes on each other.”
“But there has to be more to it. What about personality and conversation?”
“Ha… Conversation? Isn’t that why girlfriends were invented? And in any case, nothing oils the tongue as does a good…”—a wicked smile formed on her face—“round of tennis.”
“Tennis?” Expecting her trademark ribaldry, my voice went up an octave.
She laughed. “I’m playing. You know what I mean. In my day, that was a euphemism for fucking.”
My smile lasted a second before a frown settled over me. “What about financial support and marrying for stability?”
“Who tells you that? Don’t listen to that nonsense about the need to be supported by a rich man. A loveless marriage makes for a painfully dull existence.”
“My mother insists that
one needs a man with a good job and money.”
“Tell me. Did your mother marry for love or for money?”
“For love,” I said without having to think about it, considering how much my mom adored my dad.
“Is she happy?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. She complains about my father being a lazy so and so…”
She pointed. “There. You see. It’s okay for her to marry for passion, but not for you. A double standard if I’ve ever heard one.”
I nodded. Aggie was right. Even about Bronson. Our chemistry was off the charts.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
BRONSON
I contemplated the tree with our initials carved into it as I waited for Ava. She was late, which led me to the conclusion that she’d changed her mind, the thought of which added to a dull pain in my chest. I reflected on all that had happened that day, including the late phone call from my uncle telling me he’d called the CEO and that Amber Moore had been put on notice.
I hated getting people into trouble. It was, after all, just a bit of harmless flirting. That being the case, using sex as a bargaining chip was a game that lacked taste. James had been right to take it further. At least our project had generated a buzz with the consultancy firm, who stood to make a bundle should government officials sign off on it.
From a distance, I saw Ava heading toward me. I felt her energy despite the hordes of people. She was hard to miss. Her considerable grace made it appear as though she glided instead of walked.
My heart pumped harder, making the ache in my chest intensify, especially when our eyes met and her smile became mine.
“Hey.” I rose and took her into my arms. A stab of pain made me start.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Before I could reply, her eyes settled on the bandaged area of my chest.
She touched her mouth. “Oh my God, have you been injured?”
“It’s okay. It’s not self-mutilation. Well, maybe a little. But not by me,” I said, with a half grin.
Her eyes widened. “How do you mean?”
I grinned while stroking her hair, which radiated her intoxicating signature scent of jasmine.
“Bronson, stop messing with me.”
I held my hands up in defense. “Hey… it’s all good. It’s a tattoo.”
Her forehead creased. “When did you get that done?”
“A couple of hours ago. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing,” I said, taking her hand. “Come on, let’s sit for a minute.”
She lowered herself next to me. Her eyebrows were still drawn together. “Does it hurt?”
“A little. But I’m a big boy. Nothing I can’t handle.”
She nodded gently.
“I’m glad you came,” I said. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.”
“Really?” She scrutinized me.
I stared down at my watch.
“Sorry, I got caught up with Aggie. She’s responsible for me being here in many ways.”
Now it was my turn to look surprised. “How?”
“She told me that revenge is a natural human instinct. And that after what Justin did to you…”
I interrupted her. “You told Aggie about me and my imprisonment?”
My rough tone made her wince. “I’m sorry. She’s really inquisitive, and for some reason, Aggie draws everything out of me. I didn’t mean to tell her.”
The tension in my neck relaxed, and regretting my harsh response, I said, “Sorry. You probably needed someone to talk to. You said she encouraged you to meet me. What about you?”
Ava opened her hands. “I’m completely flummoxed.”
“That’s understandable. I’m sorry for putting you in this position. I never thought I’d fall this hard for you. It wasn’t my intention.”
“But having sex with me to get back at Justin was?”
I puffed out a long, slow breath. “Yeah, well…”
“Anyway, Aggie explained to me that you plotting revenge was justifiable.”
My head pushed back. “This Aggie sounds pretty wise, if not a bit personal.”
“She’s more like a grandmother. One with a dirty mouth.” She raised an eyebrow, which made me chuckle.
Placing my arm around her waist, I drew her toward me, but when her body stiffened, I released her. “Too soon?”
“Let’s talk. We haven’t done much of that,” she said.
“I have spoken more to you than anyone else, ever,” I said, staring down at my feet. “I’m not a big fan of questions. And talking never really sat well with me.”
“Ever?” She turned to stare me in the face again.
I nodded. “I’m not great with words, Ava.”
“You seem really intelligent and sharp to me.”
A faint smile touched my lips. After a pause, I asked, “Are you hungry? We could grab a bite somewhere.
“Yeah. I could kill a burger or something fatty and disgusting.”
I relaxed completely at that suggestion. “Now you’re talking my language. I know just the place.”
We stood and faced each other.
I brushed her cheek. “Ava, I’m happy to take this slowly if you like. We can just hang out. We don’t have to…” I shrugged.
She bit her bottom lip, which made my mouth water since I wasn’t sure how long I could go without tasting her again.
“What’s the tattoo?” she asked.
“You’ll have to wait and see. That way you’ll come back and see me in a few days.”
We both lingered in front of the scratched “BL loves AR” heart on the grand old elm tree.
“Aggie said that carving love declarations into trees makes it eternal.”
“Then she’s on the same page as me. This boss of yours sounds intriguing and scary.”
Ava nodded. “You’re not kidding. She’s definitely a little scary.”
“Do you think it means that?”
“Eternal love?” she asked.
I nodded.
Her eyes glistened under the lamplight. I wasn’t sure if she was about to cry or not. But I took her into my arms anyway, and although my chest protested due to pain, I didn’t care.
“It just seems so intense and somewhat rash,” she said.
“Who can measure time where love is concerned?” I asked.
She pushed out my arms. “Now you’re sounding like Aggie.”
“What? Scary?” I asked.
“No… I mean… maybe.” She looked downward.
When I lifted her chin, I was met by that searching, uncertain gaze I’d grown used to seeing. “Those notes happened before I knew you. I ripped that page out and burned it.”
“Did you?” Her eyebrows knitted. “But what about the bit about clearing your name?”
“Would you accept me if I did?”
“Bronson, I accept you now.”
I took her hand, soaking in her reassuring gaze. My heart thawed, and just like that, the strain of the past day vanished.
A flush of pleasure rippled through me as her rosy cheek touched my lips. “Come.” I took her soft hand. “Let’s go and eat something.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
AVA
Bronson stared at me without blinking. His eyes darkened, showing raw lust as he slid in. A long sigh left his parted lips as he filled me.
The extreme stretch tingled through me, sitting somewhere in that euphoric line between pleasure and pain. He was so big he stretched me to the extreme. Holding onto my waist, Bronson guided me up and down.
With each thrust, my moans deepened.
Aware of his fresh tattoo, I was careful not to rub against him, even though I really wanted to.
Slow but deliberate thrusts teased oversensitive nerve endings.
After he’d licked my pussy to that toe-curling point of no return, it had become hypersensitive.
His thrusts rubbed against what I’d discovered must have been my g-spot, because with each entry, an electrical impuls
e rippled through me.
My fingernails dug into his big arms, which were slippery from sweat.
It had all started with a kiss in the cab.
Bronson led me by the hand. No words. We’d hardly spoken at all. It was not easy around him. He robbed me of my senses. But it was okay. I’d grown used to our silences. It added more poignancy when we did speak. And after Justin, who babbled endlessly about nothing, it was kind of refreshing to be with someone who only spoke when something needed saying.
In any case, Bronson’s body language made up for any lack of words. All it took was a gaze from those penetrating eyes or his hand in mine or that tender touch, sometimes under my skirt, regardless of location.
When we got back to his place, my body took over, dictating every move.
Although I’d never seen myself as a seductress before, Bronson had definitely fired up my sexual awakening.
Within moments of stepping inside, I removed my dress.
Before arriving to meet him, I’d chosen the sexiest underwear I could find, only because I knew that I couldn’t stay away from Bronson. Whatever his motives had been, I was too weak to stay away. And like any other self-respecting hedonist on this planet, I chose to ignore the consequences of giving into blood-hot desire.
His eyes darkened as they wandered over my half nakedness. Returning the favor, I ogled Bronson when he lowered his jeans and came toward me.
I let out a deep breath. Swollen and wet, I opened my legs, and the rest was like one big lusty dream.
His finger hooked into my panties. He ripped them off and then slid inside of me while his hot mouth ate at mine.
Trailing kisses down every inch of my goose-pimpled flesh, his lips settled on my nipples. He groaned when my breasts fell into his grasp.
When his lips ended up between my legs, blood coursed through me as his tongue circled my inflamed clit. The slow, tormenting gyrations had me crying out from pleasure.
My fingers ran through his hair, nearly ripping it out due to the ferocity of my orgasm.
My body fitted perfectly into his, even with that tattoo, which I was careful not rub against. His hard cock twitched against my thigh. I ran my hands over it. Velvet and steel hard. The head dripped over my palm.