Thawing Ava, page 3
“Hey!” Brice put his bag on the ground, leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, picked her up, and held her close in a bear hug that sent her thoughts into disarray and set her body on fire. Through the thick padding of his jacket, she could feel his solid frame. Her hips bumped his, and there was definitely something happy to see her. She gave in and melted against him for a bit, allowing the cold on his clothes to cool some of her ardor. It didn’t work. Her father’s words came back to bite her. “Brice has got so much talent. I want him focused, and I want his head out of his ass. You’re no-nonsense. You can keep him on the straight and narrow, and with your…” Her thoughts stalled.
Crap.
She wriggled in his arms, but he only tightened his grasp and placed a kiss on her cheek. His beard scratched her skin, sending tendrils of arousal straight to her pussy. A giggle formed in her throat, but she refused to let it out. Her lips turned traitor and curled upward.
Her brain betrayed her, and she began to wonder if it felt this good on her cheek… No no no! she admonished herself. “Um, Brice, can you put me down? You’re cold.” Sad excuse, not even true. With her jacket on, she was warm. She felt like she’d stepped into a steam room. Her body heat spiked, and her clothes began to chafe her skin. The idea of stripping down to cool off was tempting, but she doubted that would help keep Brice in line. Or make a good impression with any of his neighbors.
“Oops, sorry.” He placed her on her feet with care, but he still had a smile on his sensual lips. “I’m so glad you’re here, and that it’s you and not someone else. You do remember me, right?” Worry clouded his green eyes. Tension radiated from his body, making her uneasy.
“Yeah. College, Christmas, hockey, Davis’s frat brother.” She bobbed her head and looked down at the floor so as not to fall deep into his dark emerald eyes with those beautiful gold flecks. She nodded toward his duffel bag. “Need help?”
Brice shook his head, the smile back on his lips, albeit not as bright or welcoming, more reserved, wary. “No, no, I got it.” He dug his keys out of his jacket pocket, unlocked and opened the door, and allowed her to precede him. “After you, milady.”
She chuckled and entered, only to stop close to the entryway. The open space was overwhelming. The kitchen, dining area, living room, and bedroom all shared the first floor; a circular staircase led up to a loft area. High ceilings with exposed beams made her feel small. It didn’t help that there was so much white. Tall, bright white walls blinded her. Black leather furniture and dark wood tables were arranged tastefully around the room. It was so simple it was almost a showplace. The only things that screamed Brice were the framed pictures of hockey greats on the wall and a massive plasma-screen TV.
“Who lives here?” She moved farther into the room.
He chuckled. “How could you tell? I moved in a few years ago, already furnished with basic pieces, and I let them decorate it for me, but I didn’t add much of myself in here. No time.” Brice carried his bag into the room, brought it to a door in the kitchen area. He opened the door and went inside. She could see a washer and dryer along with several shelves. A pantry. Feeling nosy, she moseyed on over and peeked inside. She admired the stainless-steel appliances. Her inner clean freak purred at the top-of-the-line equipment.
“Stop drooling over my washer and dryer. And no, you can’t kidnap my kitchen.” He gave her the devilish grin that made her knees turn to jelly and her stomach flip.
She turned around to check out what he’d been talking about. “Goddamnit!” Ava rushed over to the built-in double oven, six-burner stove top, dishwasher, and double sink with stainless-steel handles. The cabinets were black, but with the brushed-steel handles they actually looked sexy. “I think I’ve just had a kitchen orgasm. Well, a mini one,” she corrected herself. “This is a nice start but not my dream kitchen.” She ran her fingers lovingly over the black granite tops. The smooth stone felt almost silky.
“What would you call a dream kitchen?” he asked from behind her.
She glanced over her shoulder to find his focus on her ass. Hiding a grin, she moved away to check out his French-door-style refrigerator. No use encouraging him, even if she felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach. She opened the door and used it to shield her body.
“First and foremost a premium coffeemaker—I need my coffee, no excuses—two six-burner stoves, and of course a professional-grade, best slow cooker on the market, an immersion blender, two sets of double ovens, convection oven to do roasts, a smoker, flat-top grill, walk-in fridge and freezer. Basically top-of-the-line everything with dark wood cabinets, brushed-steel handles, granite countertops, and cork flooring for easy cleaning. Oh and an ice cream maker. That’s just a few of the things in my dream kitchen.”
“Oh really?” He had moved closer. Those two simple words, whispered in a husky tenor, danced like fingertips up her spine to tease her nape. She resisted the urge to shiver.
When she shut the door and looked back at him, their gazes met, and heat wrapped around her body. Her clothing felt scratchy and too tight. Ava was the first to look away. Job: keep him out of trouble. He’s trouble. Focus, Jackson, focus! She looked back up at him. His gaze hadn’t moved, and amusement quirked his lips. The corners of his eyes were crinkled. He was older but still as sexy and appealing as he had been in college. There was a confidence and assurance that radiated from him, a sexual comfort in his body that reached out to caress her and remind her that he was all man. She ducked her gaze, which snagged on the very prevalent erection that pressed against his fly.
Ava swallowed and tried to ignore how big it seemed. The thickness of his erection looked like it would rub her vaginal walls right, maybe even hit that special spot that would make her see stars. Her internal muscles rippled and clenched. Her panties became damp; her clit swelled. She looked away and shuffled toward the dining room area, trying to put distance between them. The closer she let him get to her, the more likely it was that her caution and resistance would erode to nothing.
He’s just like Perry, she told herself.
Liar.
Even a few minutes with him showed her that. It was a weak argument, but there was nothing else she could think of to stop her. Not even a reminder that her father was counting on her helped keep those errant, sexual urges away.
Ava focused on the dining area. Although spotless it looked unused, no scuffs or scraps on the tabletop or floor. “No dinner parties or eating at the table?” she asked but knew the answer. He’d say no time. She wondered if any of his conquests came home with him, saw this, and wanted to take care of him.
Her heart ached for him, and a moment of clarity hit her: the various women—never the same one twice—the unused dining room, the barely decorated apartment. Brice didn’t live here; he just stayed here. This wasn’t home for him. He was so blessed and yet didn’t seem to know or understand it.
She resisted looking back at him to confirm her thoughts. Instead she examined the padded beige chairs and dark wood table. Unused candles sat in their pillars, having never been lit.
“Nope. I don’t really need the dining room set, but I don’t know what to do with it. I keep wanting to donate it but keep forgetting. Besides I don’t have the time for anything. Didn’t even have a housewarming.” Again, he’d moved closer without her noticing it.
Was this what it was going to be like while she stayed with him? Nothing but practice and making sure he didn’t go out at night? What else was in his life besides hockey and charity? Ava wanted to push him away, gain some distance, and yet part of her wanted to see what could have been. What he would do if she allowed him to get close. See if he’d let her take care of him. Where was his family?
With a sigh she knew what she needed to do even if it hurt her to do it. “Brice, give me some space, okay? I’m here to make sure you keep out of trouble, not be the next notch on your bedpost.” She didn’t look at him to gauge his reaction. Instead she moved into the living room area. The words were harsh and would be at odds with her feelings, but she had to draw a line in the sand and set some boundaries.
A plush leather couch, sofa, and padded chairs were arranged around a low wood coffee table strewn with hockey and sports magazines along with some mail. The massive TV sat against a whitewashed brick wall between two black steel shelves laden with DVDs and a few books. A black-and-white rug with an abstract swirl pattern lay on the floor, rich and plush but not Brice in the least.
“I know why you’re here, Ava, but can’t I appreciate the woman you’ve become? The curves you now have? The beauty you possess?” he asked, again so close.
“Smooth, Douglas, real smooth.” This time she turned around fully to face him.
He gave her a small smile and shrug. “I have to say what I see. You’ve always been intelligent, beautiful, and curved in all the right places.”
She pointed at him. “Exactly. Intelligent. I don’t need another smooth talker who will leave me high and dry. Been there, done that, returned the ring, and moved out of the apartment. I’m your babysitter, not your lover,” she said firmly. Even if she still felt that tight ball of arousal low in her belly.
“I heard about that asshole you were engaged to.” He looked down, hiding his face and expression from her view. Now his voice was harsher, no desire anywhere to be found. “I’d like to meet him one day, so I can beat the shit out of him.” He glanced up, a tight smile on his lips, anger blazing in his eyes.
Just seeing him so mad on her behalf sent part of her reticence crumbling. And yet she couldn’t understand it, so she said, “Why? We knew each other in passing and stayed in tight quarters during Christmas in college. Not long enough to really—”
He closed the distance between them so quickly she didn’t have time to steel herself. He kissed her hard.
It was a gesture to shut her up, a kiss that stole her air and scattered her thoughts and cracked a few walls she hadn’t realized were weak. Though closemouthed, it branded her with a restrained heat she hadn’t expected. She wanted to open her mouth for a taste, give in and urge him to unleash all that heat. Ava could smell that clean scent of soap and male with just a hint of musk that sent the fire in her body spiraling through her. His body heat seeped past the barrier of her jacket and the denim into her skin. She wanted to touch him, anywhere, everywhere, to pull the hardness of his body against hers. Ava wanted to peel off his clothes, gaze upon all that tanned skin, and explore every inch that she hadn’t seen in pictures.
She reached out to touch him, but he stopped the kiss so quickly she could only whimper in response. When he lifted his head, she found herself panting and confused, any thought of why she was here gone. She brought her fingers to her lips and pressed them to the tingling flesh.
“That Christmas was the best Christmas I’d ever had because I was with you. May have been two weeks, but I never forgot that time. Two weeks wasn’t long enough for us, for me,” he said before he stepped back. His face, ears, and throat red, desire and something else swirled in his eyes. “I have to go shower. You can just wander around, okay? Nothing to hide from you. I’m an open book.” He gave her another devilish smile and took off for the bathroom like demon dogs were on his heels. All she could do was stand there and touch her bruised lips. Damn it. She cursed herself, but she wouldn’t have taken that kiss back for anything in the world. She’d always wished she had gotten up the courage to kiss him that Christmas.
He paused before he entered the sectioned-off room and looked over his shoulder at her. “By the way, I like to cook, and I’ll be making dinner tonight. No going out for us, so get your things and get your ass back here quick as you can. Don’t make me spank you your first night here. And I will do it. Don’t think I won’t.” His gaze caressed her body once more.
Even through the layers of clothes, she felt it, touching her in places he couldn’t see, had never seen. Fuck, I’m so in trouble. As soon as he shut the door, her knees buckled and her legs gave out. She didn’t let the pain of denim-covered skin and bone hitting the wood flooring register.
Chapter Three
Brice stripped out of his clothes as if they were on fire. His cock pulsed, and his balls were so fucking hard they were nearly at the blue-balls stage. When he’d seen her in the hallway, he hadn’t expected for Ava to look so damn cute and sexy. It had only been a day since that office meeting. When he spotted her in front of his door, he’d felt light-headed, and his heartbeat picked up the pace. He had a bit of trouble breathing. Seeing her again made their situation real. She was here. With him. Even through the clothes he could see her curves and knew her full breasts, voluptuous waist, wide hips, and rounded ass were there, waiting for him to expose and feast on them like a dying man at his last buffet. He didn’t think he’d react to her like that. She had been on and off his mind for years; in fact, if he was honest with himself, he had to admit every woman he’d slept with had been compared to her. Would she make those sounds or react like that? Until he saw Ava, he’d been going through the motions of a happy man.
Ugh.
He was pretty sure that explained his actions. He knew his dating habits changed and increased whenever Christmas came around. Seeing Ava in her simple outfit—nothing that should attract his attention—made the women he usually went for seem shallow in comparison.
Lately he’d found himself attracted to the women who were as bright as multicolored Christmas lights. The more outgoing and loud, the better. But they weren’t Ava. They were rink bunnies looking to get their names in the gossip columns and hook themselves a rich athlete. He knew they’d been using him as much as he’d been using them, but now with Ava here, their actions along with his was starkly outlined.
His mind couldn’t help but travel back to those two short weeks at Christmas break. During that time he’d felt centered, safe, and most of all the focus of someone’s attention. He wasn’t alone; someone cared about him. They’d had an easy rapport. After Brice had recovered and the new quarter started, Davis hadn’t been much use in helping him find his sister—he was too in love with his current boyfriend. Spotting Ava around campus had been few and far between. She had even stopped coming up to him and Davis when she saw them. He’d been too hurt by her actions to even try and find out what was up.
Now that she was back in his life, he could show her how far he’d come and that he wasn’t going to let her get away. Hell, he could prove to her that Alexi and James were wrong about him. Everyone was. She would get to see the real him, and maybe that would convince her to take a chance on him.
Brice turned on the water and stepped in without thinking about the temperature. A hiss passed his lips as the icy liquid doused his body. It did nothing to blunt his arousal, nor did his cock lose its hardness. If anything, the stubborn bastard rose up to his stomach and pulsed while his balls continued to throb for release.
He grabbed the body wash and squeezed out a generous dollop. Brice closed his eyes and thought of Ava just outside of the bathroom. She needed to be naked. He pictured her before him, starting with peeling off that eyesore of a jacket. It hid her figure from him. He wanted to burn the damn thing.
Brice took hold of the zipper tab and pulled it down. The ripping sound sent a thrill along his spine to buzz around his testicles. His cock jerked as he took hold of his shaft and gave himself a slow stroke. He shuddered as the pleasure snaked through his body. In his fantasy he peeled away the coat to expose a tight, thin cotton sweater that couldn’t hide the hardened state of her nipples.
“So beautiful,” he murmured as he let her jacket fall to the ground. The bright light of the apartment illuminated the curves of her body.
He cupped her full breasts. Even clothed she was a knockout. He squeezed the mounds, savoring their weight and fullness. Ava let out a throaty moan that filled his belly with fire. He grabbed the hem and pulled. Without a single word of protest, she lifted her arms and allowed him to slip the sweater up her body. He couldn’t resist placing kisses on the exposed parts of her that he could reach. Brice dropped the sweater to the floor with her jacket and took a step back to admire the slight swell of her belly and the bright white lace covering her breasts.
Brice pulled on his shaft as he pictured Ava in only her bra, jeans, and boots. His fantasy self lowered his head and placed kisses along her chest. He cupped her breasts once more. Brice circled the full mounds until he could take one nipple between his teeth and tug on the tip before he pulled it into his mouth. He sucked and plucked on the nub while he kneaded her other breast. The fabric caused him frustration. He wanted to taste her skin. He increased his strokes as he pictured undoing the back clasp and shrugging the straps down her arms to expose her fully. “Perfection,” he murmured before he continued his ministrations. Fantasy Ava was so much better than any woman he’d ever been with.
He suckled, nipped, and teased the taut tips. With each action, her moans grew louder. She ran her fingers through his hair and held his head to her chest. Brice moved his hand up and down from root to tip. He grunted and spread his legs father apart as warm water showered him from overhead. Brice rolled his balls with his other hand as his strokes became leisurely. He squeezed his dick just under the thick crest to slow things down a bit.
Fantasy Ava urged him to her other nipple. He memorized every dip and hollow he encountered with his fingertips before undoing her fly. Once opened, he yanked down the waistband along with her panties and slipped his fingers between her thickened labia. He zeroed in on her clit, already plump and pulsing for stimulation. While sucking on her nipple, he flicked and circled the bundle of nerves. Ava responded to him perfectly; mewls and cries rained down on his head as she worked her hips against his fingers.
He moved his hand in time with his fantasy counterparts, wanting her to come with him when he did in the real world. Brice made a line of kisses from her breast over her stomach and mound before he slipped his fingers along the sides of her labia to her tight, wet entrance. He worked the tips of his digits in and pulled them out, then pushed them back in again.
