Frisk Me(80)

“Liar,” she said with a smile, trying to lighten the moment.

He narrowed his eyes before wrapping an arm around her waist, shifting forward so his other hand could pull his wallet out of his back pocket.

Ava frowned in confusion as he fished out a piece of paper, holding it out to her.

She took it, her fingers faltering just slightly as she recognized it.

“The parking ticket.”

This time he refused to meet her eyes, looking adorably embarrassed as his eyes locked on the stained ticket in her hands.

“I told myself I was holding on to it for the exact right moment to make you pay it. Which you should, by the way…But then I just…I kept it.”

His eyes lifted to hers then. “I know this is a short-term thing. For both of us. But don’t ever think you’re just a meaningless fling to me, Sims. You’re not cold. You’re…lovely.”

Sims. She was always Sims. What was with that? Some weird way of keeping his distance?

Yet Ava’s heart still melted at his awkward admission. “Lovely, huh?”

He shrugged. “Or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” she agreed with a smile, leaning forward to place her lips gently against his.

He kissed her back. Softly at first, although the kiss quickly heated as it seemed to every damned time they were together.

“Thank you,” she said against his mouth.

“You’re welcome,” he said in response. “And Sims…”

He pulled back to look at her, his expression serious as his hand cupped her face. “Promise me something. Promise me that you’ll stop living your life for your parents, or some outdated dream that isn’t yours anymore. Promise me you’ll follow your heart. Go with your gut. Whatever.”

Her eyes watered at the earnestness in his expression. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” she whispered.

You’re asking me to betray you.

“I do know what I’m asking,” he said, leaning forward so that his forehead rested on hers. “I’m asking you to do what’s right. Because I know you’re the type of woman who can do great things. Amazing things. You just have to give yourself permission.”

Ava closed her eyes in agony. It was everything she wanted to hear. And it was from precisely the person she needed to hear it from. But doing as he asked…doing what was right, would mean losing him forever.

“Hey,” he said softly, his thumbs rubbing gently across her cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

I’m going to lose you.

But not yet. She didn’t have to lose him yet. They still had tonight.

She tipped forward, finding his mouth with hers. In response, his hand slipped around to the back of her neck, tilting both of their heads to deepen the kiss.

Ava’s fingers tangled into the soft fabric of his shirt in an effort to pull him closer. His kiss was hot and possessive, and she responded in kind, reaching her tongue for his.

It was their most intense kiss yet, made all the more intoxicating by the fact that neither seemed in a hurry to take it to the next stage. In the back of her buzzing brain, Ava registered that somehow, this kiss wasn’t about sex—at least not just that—it was about something deeper and infinitely more alarming.

Luc must have felt it too, because he pulled back just slightly, resting his forehead to hers with a slightly puzzled frown, and when his eyes met hers, she saw her own unspoken question:

What is this?

She shook her head just the tiniest bit.

I don’t know.

And then she crushed her mouth against his once more, the force of her body pushing him back against the couch cushions.

His came to rest lightly on her back, and although he returned her kiss, he also let her take control, as though sensing her need to make him hers, if only for one night.

When Ava finally pulled back to breathe, Luc gently tugged at the bottom of her shirt and obediently lifted her arms so he could pull the shirt over her head, letting it drop to the floor.

She was wearing one of her new bras. Nothing as outlandishly sexy as the black number of her semi-striptease, but it was white and aqua lace that she’d picked simply because she’d thought it was pretty.

Luc apparently agreed. His fingers traced softly over the top of the cup before he leaned forward and planted a sweet kiss on her breastbone.

“Lovely,” he said, echoing his earlier statement. “You are lovely.”

Then his fingers flicked against her back, and the bra went the way of the shirt, and in silent agreement, she lifted up to remove the rest of her clothes while he did the same.

“Bedroom?” he asked, standing above her.

In response, she placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back to the couch before launching herself on him once more.

If their kiss had been slow and purposeful, the pace now was frantic, as hands and lips grew greedy and restless. And when she reached between their bodies to stroke him he groaned and lifted his hips to hers.

“Damn it, Sims. Now.”

She pulled back with a frustrated moan, tapping a finger against his chest. “Don’t. Move.”

She disappeared into the bedroom, coming back seconds later with a condom that he tore open and rolled on in record time before pulling her down once more to straddle him.

Her hands found his face, pulling him into a hot kiss as his hands found her hips, guiding her until she was poised above him. He paused for a heartbeat before pulling her down, sliding in inch by inch until they were as close as two people could be.