Age of Ava (Vested Interest - ABC Corp 4)

“I agree.”

“Okay. I’m calling Robert in for a second interview. We’ll get him settled plus another body for more office staff, and I’ll get Ronan and Brayden to start fleshing out teams. I think two smaller ones would be good. We have enough projects coming up, we can use them.”

“Sounds good.”

I stood to leave, getting to the door before Addi called my name. “Ava.”

I turned, meeting her gaze.

“I’m here. If you want to talk. Anything. All you have to do is ask.”

All I could do was nod.

I pulled into the driveway, leaving the SUV there. I rarely parked inside the garage during the summer. I headed inside, dropping my purse on the bench and kicking off my shoes. Padding toward the kitchen, I stopped at the sight of my pot sitting on the counter. The last time I had seen it had been at Hunter’s. My gaze flew around the room, and my shoulders dropped when I realized he wasn’t there. He had brought it back and left.

Dejected, I turned to go to my room and change.

Except, the back door flew open, and Hunter stood there. He looked unkempt, his hair wild as if he’d run his fingers through it a hundred times, his beard longer than normal. His eyes were intense, the icy blue a scorching inferno of anger and frustration. He walked in, slamming the door behind him. We stood separated by ten feet, yet I felt his touch as sure as if he were right in front of me.

“Goddammit, Ava,” he growled, stalking toward me.

I couldn’t speak.

“I can’t get involved with you. Not the way you want. Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?” I managed to ask.

“I will use you until I’m done. Then I’ll walk. And I can’t do that. Not to you.”

“Why?” I whispered.

He gripped my arms. “Because I do care. Somehow, you’ve gotten under my skin. Your toughness and your smart mouth. Your fucking delicious spaghetti. The way you make me laugh. I fucking crave you. Every minute you’re not within my sight, I want you back.” He shook me slightly. “Physically, I can’t get enough of you. But I can’t give you more. I care, but not the way that you want—that you need—me to care.” He barked out a bitter laugh. “I care just enough to not want to hurt you. Which hurts me.”

I dared to cup his cheek. “It hurts me too.”

“I’ve struggled to stay away from you. It’s better that I do. I only came to bring back your pot. But when I came inside, all I could smell was you. Inhale the fragrance that is all you. I heard your car, so I left. But I couldn’t go.” He leaned into my hand. “Fuck, I couldn’t go.”

I moved my fingers on his skin, skimming over his cheek and the roughness of his beard. “But you can’t stay either?” I asked.

He met my eyes, and I saw the sorrow in them. “No.”

I made a decision.

“Then stay for now. Let me have you for as long as you can stay. Give me that, at least.”

“But—”

I silenced him with my finger. “The future will be what it is. But I want you while you’re here. When you go, I won’t beg. But right now, I am begging. Begging for you to stay with me now. Just for now.”

He crushed me to him, his mouth covering mine. Instantly, all the pain, confusion, and loneliness evaporated. He wrapped his arms around me, his embrace tight, his kiss passionate and possessive. His tongue slid along mine in sensuous passes, and he lifted me, one hand on the back of my neck, the other cupping my ass. I felt the urgency in his touch, the power in his kiss. The way his fingers stroked restlessly on my skin. The rumble of satisfaction in his chest. I ran my fingers over his neck and shoulders in a long, repeated pattern, sliding them into his hair at the nape of his neck, pressing them into the tight muscles. He relaxed under my touch, his kisses becoming more leisurely, less urgent. But no less drugging.

He dragged his mouth across my cheek, down my neck, his tongue hot and wet on my skin. He tugged on my earlobe. “I want you, Little Dragon. Can I have you?”

“Yes,” I answered simply. I would take what he offered. Whatever he offered. When it was over, I would deal with the aftermath then. But for now, he was there. With me. That was all that mattered.

He swung me into his arms, carrying me down the hall. The whole time, he kissed me, his mouth hard on mine, trailing over my skin, down my neck, his breath hot against me.

In my room, he set me on my feet, still kissing me, our hands tugging and pulling at the clothing that separated us. The sheets were cool under my sensitive skin as we fell onto the mattress, his weight pinning me down. He felt hot, his touch urgent. Everything was magnified. How he tasted, the way his hands felt gripping my hips, his deep breathing. I cried out as he drew a nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting. He used his lips and tongue on my skin, lavishing me in caresses. He stroked me with his fingers, finding my center and sliding along my clit with a deft touch. I arched into him, begging and pleading. For what, only he knew, and he gave it to me.