We writhed together. We pulled and pushed at one another. We left marks. We took each other’s air and screamed and growled each other’s names. We sweated against each other and we burned everywhere we touched. We ruined each other and we repaired each other. It felt like the beginning and ending of everything I had ever known.
I lost my grip on her slippery center but that was okay, because her clever little fingers were back and every time she brushed across that quivering point between her legs, the back of her knuckles also rubbed along my engorged cock. It was the best caress ever and only better when she started to purposely put as much friction as she could at the base of my cock as I hammered in and out of her.
I felt my balls draw up tightly against my body and a sharp coil of pleasure suddenly tense, hard at the base of my spine. I wasn’t going to last much longer, and from the red in her face and the way she was moving under me, neither was she. I wanted her to come with me inside of her, with me riding her rough and hard, more than I wanted any of the useless shit I was so consumed with day in and day out. I wanted to have that unguarded, unfiltered pleasure wash all over me and then I wanted to make her give it to me again and again.
“Avett.” I said her name because there weren’t any other words that mattered as much in that moment. I felt my cock twitch and my heart start to thunder.
Her eyes locked on mine and she moved her other leg up around my waist and pulled her arm out from between the two of us and curled it around my shoulders so that she was wrapped entirely around me. “Quaid.”
My name on her lips as she broke apart underneath me whispered across me at the same time an inferno of pleasure ripped through my insides. I came in a rush that followed hers. I came in a blaze that burned away any memory of any girl that was before. I erupted in a stream of satisfaction and completion that left me empty and drained as I collapsed on top of her.
That hadn’t been an orgasm. That had been a reckoning.
I felt the barely there brush of her lips against the side of my face as she breathed into my ear. “I guess at the end of the day it’s better to have nothing with the right person than to have everything with the wrong person, isn’t it?”
She was absolutely right about that.
CHAPTER 11
Avett
I still can’t believe you have such a giant tattoo.” A tattoo that was currently flanked on either side of his flexing and rippling chest by his unbuttoned shirt. He was pulling up a pair of light gray pants, and I wanted to sigh in disappointment when they covered up what was one world-class ass. The man looked phenomenal in a suit and I really appreciated how he looked rough and ready in jeans and leather, but where he really shined was when he had nothing on at all.
Without clothes to conceal him or to define him, the real Quaid Jackson couldn’t hide. The tattoo that covered up most of his torso stood out bold and defiant on his lightly tanned skin. I grew up around inked men and had always appreciated a well-done piece. His was something special, maybe because it was so unexpected. I think I liked that he had something so outrageously and undeniably traditional marked on him. It made me feel like maybe there was hope for him not to sink even farther into the designer labels and shiny baubles that consumed his life and his space. I also liked that he had a wicked-looking scar that sat right above his hip and another one that ran lengthwise down his ribs and across his hip. The big one on his side was about twelve inches long, raggedly healed, and made his otherwise perfect body look more normal. He had a flaw, which made me like him even more than I already did. I asked if he got it when he was overseas and all I got was a grunt and a muttered, “I’ve had it since I was a kid.” With the scar and the massive amount of ink, Quaid could easily pass for one of those Instagram guys that had a million followers and had a zillion likes on every image they posted. That much perfection was intimidating, so I was glad that when he was naked every single thing that made him both beautiful and imperfect was on display. And those abs and that ass didn’t hurt anything either.
Currently, I was hating that he was covering it all up. All I could do was forlornly watch as he put what I was starting to consider his lawyer costume back on, while I sat on the edge of his bed wearing nothing but his ARMY T-shirt and some seriously tousled-sex hair. He looked down at his bare chest after my outburst and then looked back up at me and shrugged.
“When I was in law school I did an internship for the state attorney general’s office. There was this guy there named Alexander Carsten. He had a bunch of tattoo work done that was really impressive. When I passed the bar, I decided I needed to do something to commemorate my life finally going in the direction I wanted it to.”
I lifted my eyebrows at him. “The tattoo was your big rebellion before you decided to grow up?”
He shook his head sharply and that wayward lock of blond hair that refused to be tamed fell into his pale blue gaze. “No, my act of rebellion was joining the Army. It was the last thing my folks expected me to do.” I opened my mouth to ask him what had happened in his family because it was the second time he mentioned them being disappointed in his choice to enlist but he kept going, apparently not wanting to talk about his bitter break from his past. “I made an appointment with Alex’s guy, a kid with a purple Mohawk and a pierced lip named Rule Archer. I told him I wanted something that represented where I had been and where I was going. He knocked the design out of the park, so I didn’t care that it was this big. Very few people ever see it.”