My balls drummed in desire.
Dirty, nasty desire.
So close to orgasming, I bit my bottom lip and increased the strokes to my cock.
In my head, she went crazy. Sucking hard. Breasts bouncing. Her moans filled the bathroom.
“Yes, Ava.” With my other hand, I ran my fingers along my chest the way she did last night. She’d showed me how much I loved getting my nipples caressed. I had no idea, until she’d did it.
I should’ve gone to you, Ava. I should’ve fucked you right before the performance.
Rubbing my hardening nipple, I imagined her doing it for me. Lusty sensations sparked all over my flesh.
“Yes.” Fast, I moved my soapy hand up and down my cock. And then I gave special attention to that mushroomed tip—the one that I would surely tattoo her name on one day. She definitely owned it.
Fuck. I need you, Ava. Right now.
Sliding my hand up and down the shaft, I jacked my cock. I milked it. Shoving that fat length into my tight hands.
I opened my eyes, stared down at my soapy cock, and grunted. “Look at what you make me do, Ava. I will never leave you alone.”
Seconds later, I orgasmed. Pleasure shot up my cock. And long lines of sperm burst out. Coating the marbled shower and floors.
I growled and jerked my hips, enjoying the small moments of paradise.
Damn, I wish I was putting it all over you. On your face. Your neck. On those beautiful breasts.
My orgasm left me.
Barely catching my breath, I leaned my head against the shower glass and let the water continue to rain down on me.
I can’t let anything get between us. What will happen with her grandmother? And most of all, how can I make sure Ava stays right by my side. . .without forcing her too?
Chapter 11
Misha
After making a mess of the bathroom and dressing, I headed over to Jacqueline’s suite. We barely had thirty minutes until Ava’s performance. I would have to move fast, if I could save this.
It was clear that Mrs. Jones was scared. She’d called her gangster brother in New Orleans for help. If she thought his men could stop me, then she had no idea of my power.
No one would get between us.
I would kill them first.
Dread filled me as I thought of getting rid of Ava’s family.
I shook my head knowing that it would have to be the last resort.
I have so many options besides death.
I held one of the first options in my hand—the bag of money. A quarter million lay inside. I made sure to keep it in US dollars. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that the bills would buy Jacqueline’s complete silence, but I just needed some days.
Time would be required to show Ava more of me, before her grandmother destroyed my image with the mistake that Fuego had made.
Guards stood outside Jacqueline’s door.
One nodded and opened it for me.
Jacqueline stood next to the piano.
Her attention had been focused on that.
Her long black hair lay past her shoulders. Gray peeked at the temples and were scattered throughout those long strands.
Maxwell had said she wore a wig. I had no idea why she would.
The gown she chose displayed where Ava got her fashion sense from. The royal blue complimented her dark brown skin and was a gorgeous color to behold. With a streamlined silhouette and elegant beading, the garment had been designed to stun any onlooker. And it did its job. A pageant queen could’ve worn the gown and won.
When I entered, Jacqueline turned to me, taking my breath away. All done up, I could see the relation between Ava and her. Instead of being her grandmother, she looked like she could be her mother. And if the gray was gone, some would say she was Ava’s older sister.
I did my best to keep the nervousness out of my voice. “Do you know how to play the piano?”
“I do.”
Intrigued, I asked, “When did you learn?”
“When I was a little girl in New Orleans. I stopped playing after I had my son.” She frowned. “Ava’s father.”
“Why did you stop playing the piano? You could’ve still played.”
“No.” She gazed at the bag in my hand. “There’s no time for a single mother to play around with a piano, when a baby is crying and needs warm clothes for the winter.”
“I understand.” I walked over to her and placed the bag on top of the piano. “Luckily, those days are over.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Are they?”
I unzipped the bag and exposed the piles of bills in the bag. “I would like to make a deal with you.”
She looked at the money and then went back to me. “What type of deal?”
“Silence.”
Humor filled her eyes.
“Not forever.” I swallowed. “But I need some time, before we tell Ava about the tragic mess up.”
“You want to give me money, so I won’t tell Ava that you kidnapped me?”