Page 10

Chapter 10: Avery

T hree hours later and Luke is still not home. He is frustrating. I end up making a sandwich for dinner, stripping off and climb into bed.

He can have dinner by himself. I don’t know how I can want him and hate him all at once. No matter how hard I tried to ignore him, the man has consumed my every thought.

With him just down the hall. Every night, and it drives me crazy. I must have finally fallen asleep as it was dark when I woke up. I tip toe to Luke’s room and see the light on under his door. He’s obviously home then.

Fucker. Yep. I’m back to hating him.

I go back to bed, staring at the ceiling, frustrated knowing he was close enough to touch. Imagining what he was doing. Wondering if he was thinking about me.

My hand slid across the sheets, brushing against my stomach, thinking of the night in Miami. I roll onto my side, squeezing my thighs together. This was ridiculous. I couldn’t let him get into my head.

I was done fighting it.

“Bugger it,” I muttered, reaching for the drawer in my nightstand. My fingers closed around the familiar cool metal, and a flicker of anticipation sparked low in my belly.

This wasn’t about him, I told myself. This was about me. About control. About releasing all the tension that had been building up since the day he walked back into my life.

The toy hummed to life in my hand, and I bit my lip, sinking back into the pillows. My free hand slid up to my breasts, teasing the sensitive skin there, while the vibrations buzzed against my inner thigh, teasing, tormenting.

My hips shifted instinctively, a low moan slipping past my lips as I finally pressed the toy where I needed it most, imagining him there, his mouth, his fingers. The sensation was electric, chasing away every coherent thought until there was only this.

Only him.

My mind conjured his image. Of Luke leaning against the doorframe, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to hint at the hard planes of his chest. The way his gaze would darken as he watched me, heat radiating from him in waves.

I moved the toy faster, chasing the edge, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

“God, Luke,” I whimpered, arching off the bed.

A sudden sound broke through the haze. The creak of my bedroom door.

My eyes flew open, but before I could react, I saw him.

Luke stood in the doorway, his hand braced against the frame, his expression unreadable. His gaze was fixed on me, dark and intense, and I realized with a jolt that I hadn’t been quiet.

Not even close.

Heat flooded my face, but my body betrayed me, refusing to stop, the toy still buzzing against my skin.

“Don’t stop,” he commanded, his voice low and rough.

My breath caught. I should have been mortified, but the way he looked at me sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in my belly.

“Luke,” I whispered, but it came out as a plea.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The sound of the latch clicking was loud in the silence, and my heart hammered in my chest.

“You called out to me,” he said, his voice a growl as he stalked toward the bed.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did.” He cut me off, his eyes locking onto mine. “Did you imagine my mouth on you? My tongue licking you?”

He stopped at the edge of the bed, towering over me. My toy slipped from my hand, forgotten as his fingers brushed against my ankle, trailing up my leg.

“Are we going to play now?” I managed, though my voice was weak, trembling.

“No,” he murmured, his lips curling into a wicked smile. “I want to watch.”

His eyes raked over me, taking in every inch, and I felt exposed in the best possible way. The heat between us flared as his hand lingered on my thigh.

“Finish,” he commanded. “I want to see you fall apart.”

My body shuddered under the weight of his gaze. This was a game I wasn’t sure I could win, but damn if I didn’t want to play.

I swallowed hard; my gaze locked on his. His thumb brushed against my knee, just the lightest touch, but it sent a shiver coursing up my spine.

“Go on,” he coaxed, his voice lower now. “Let me see you.”

My fingers trembled as I reached for the toy again. He didn’t move, didn’t flinch, just stood there watching me like I was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

“Luke.” My voice was barely a whisper.

“Fuck, Avery,” he said, his eyes darkening further, “say my name when you come. Let me hear you scream it.”

It wasn’t just a command. It was possession.

I took a shaky breath, letting my hand drift between my legs once more. The toy buzzed back to life, the vibrations teasing against my sensitive skin. My hips bucked instinctively, and a soft moan escaped me.

His jaw clenched, and I caught the slight flare of his nostrils.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice smooth and intoxicating.

Heat shot through me, my body arching as I followed his lead. My free hand gripped the sheets, desperate for something to ground me as the pleasure built higher and higher.

He stepped closer, his hand brushing against my ankle again before sliding up my calf, his touch firm but unhurried. The rough callouses on his fingers sent sparks skittering across my skin, and I couldn’t hold back the gasp that followed.

“You like this,” he said, his tone filled with smug certainty. “Knowing I’m watching you.”

I couldn’t deny it, even if I wanted to.

“Yes,” I breathed, the word barely audible but loud enough to make his lips curl into a satisfied smirk.

His hand traveled higher, his fingers trailing over my thigh with a deliberate slowness that made my toes curl. His eyes never left mine, pinning me in place as if daring me to look away.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he said.

My breathing became faster, my body trembling as I edged closer to release. Every muscle tightened, Luke’s focus narrowing to the sensation building within me.

“Let go, Avery,” he demanded. “Now.”

That was all it took. His words sent me tumbling over the edge, my body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. His name tore from my lips, raw and unrestrained, as I shuddered under his gaze.

I felt his hand slide to my hip, steadying me as I came down. When I opened my eyes, his expression had shifted. The hunger there was unmistakable, and I was aware of what happened.

“I—” My voice cracked, and I swallowed, suddenly aware of how vulnerable I was.

“Don’t.” He cut me off, his thumb brushing against my hipbone. “Don’t apologize. Don’t overthink. Just feel.”

His words had meaning, and I realized this moment wasn’t just about physical release. It was about surrender, about trust, about the unspoken tension that had simmered between us since the day we reconnected.

He leaned in then, his forehead nearly brushing mine. There was no career, no fake relationship, no PR strategy. There was only us.

“You drive me fucking wild Avery,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. “I want to taste you, to fuck you and to love you.”

“Likewise,” I admitted, my voice barely audible.

His lips twitched as he stood, pulling back.

“Three weeks,” he said simply, his tone soft but laced with intention.

And then, without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him.