Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
‘You are such a good kisser,’ she mumbles, pushing her front into me, not helping with the situation behind the fly of my jeans. Kissing, yeah, great, but I’m not sure if she’s ready for more just yet. ‘It feels like we’ve done this a million times, got it down to a fine art.’
‘We have done it a million times,’ I say, quickly cursing myself when she breaks our lips and pulls away.
‘Of course.’ Her cheeks are flushed, and I’m struggling to fathom whether it’s with embarrassment or desire. ‘Sorry, I got a little carried away.’
Oh, the strength it takes for me not to bark my frustration nearly breaks me. ‘Don’t apologise,’ I order as softly as I can, taking her chin and directing her face to mine. ‘Thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘For that amazing kiss.’
She smiles, almost shyly. ‘Thank you, too.’ Her blush is heartbreaking because it signifies the loss of our time, and deeply gratifying because I can at least make her blush again. She was so used to me after all these years, nothing I said or did fazed her any more.
‘I want to take you out tomorrow,’ I tell her. ‘Do you think you can manage it?’
‘Where are you taking me?’
Reaching for her hair, I push a stray lock over her shoulder. ‘A little trip down memory lane.’
She says nothing, just smiles as I rise from the couch with her still attached to my front. Encouraging her to find her feet, I turn her by her shoulders and push her on. ‘Go get ready for dinner.’
‘Bossy again,’ she muses.
‘Like I said, get used to it.’ I release her at the bottom of the stairs and watch as she takes them slowly, constantly glancing over her shoulder at me. I cock my head, lifting my eyebrows when she tries to hide a secret smile. ‘What’s tickled you?’ I call.
Her delicate shoulders jump up in a small shrug, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. She felt something powerful just then. Something in our kiss that reinforced the rightness of her being here with me. She was lost in that moment, and her mind was blank for all the right reasons.
Chapter 19
The next morning, I’m all set. I’ve called Dr Peters to ensure I’m not pushing her too far, and he reassured me that my plan to revisit some of our past is a good idea. Just to take it easy with her, which was a stupid fucking thing to say. We also chatted briefly about all these small hints of memories, all the words, and he seemed thrilled by that. All in all, I’m feeling pretty good.
I know where we’re going, what we’re doing, and I’m really looking forward to it. That kiss last night. It was just a kiss, but it was earth-moving. I felt like she was breathing hope into me. It made sleeping alone again that little bit more bearable.
‘What are you looking at?’ I ask as Ava performs a full assessment of me in the hallway, her eyes roaming up and down my tall frame.
‘You just don’t seem the type to wear leather trousers.’ She’s thinking so hard she’s frowning. ‘Then again, you didn’t seem the type to own a sex club, either.’ Looking up at me, she shrugs a little. ‘I guess they go hand in hand.’
Laughter so rich and loud spills out of me. ‘It isn’t what you think,’ I assure her, chuckling as I produce another set of leather trousers. ‘These are yours.’
‘Oh God, next you’ll be pulling out a whip.’
I recoil, my arm dropping limply to my side. ‘There’s no whip.’
‘Oh shit.’ Her mouth snaps shut, her disposition quickly awkward. ‘I’m guessing whips are a no-go zone for us.’
‘It’s not the most thrilling part of our history.’ I hand her the trousers, and she takes them, if a little cautiously, not because she’s still wondering what we’re doing and why she’ll be wearing them, but because her mind is whirling about that horrid time.
‘You told me that I punished you, too,’ she says, looking at the leather in her grasp. ‘You punished yourself by being whipped. So how did I punish you?’
I flinch, the cracking of leather across her back echoing through my skull like the perfect kind of torture. Though her reasoning at the time eventually made sense to me, it didn’t make it any easier to accept. Anger sizzles, threatening to surface as I eye her with caution and collect my keys and shades. ‘I’d rather not revisit one of the most horrific moments in my life.’ My answer only seems to enhance her curiosity, and in true Ava style she pushes on.
‘Something tells me that I didn’t dump your arse for a few days. Or give you the silent treatment. So how did I punish you?’
‘It’s not important.’ I make my way to the door, eager to end this conversation. I’m a fool. Evading questions and distracting Ava in the early days of our relationship was what got me in such a mess in the first place. Haven’t I learned?