My arms were around him, the fingers of one hand at the back of his head but at the roll my other hand went to his wrist, holding it steady, telling him I wanted more.
“Ava,” he muttered and my chin dipped to look at him.
“Do that again,” I murmured.
He did as I asked. I couldn’t help it, even though my eyes were mostly closed I felt myself smile.
“Fuck,” he muttered against my mouth and his finger slid inside me.
My h*ps moved pressing against his hand and his finger slid out then in then again and again. My hand stayed wrapped around his wrist as his finger worked me, my other hand still at his head. I pressed up, not just my hips, my whole body, seeking contact with his and he didn’t disappoint me, pressing his body into me.
His finger slid out of me while he kissed me, his tongue sliding in my mouth as his finger did another roll, right on target, followed by another one then another one. I stopped kissing him, ready, close, my mouth against his panting. I opened my eyes to see him watching me and I knew he liked what he saw and I found that I liked that he liked what he saw.
“Show me,” he muttered, his voice a deep rumble and at the sound, I felt it coming, my tongue wet my lips and it was then the f**king door buzzer went.
His finger stopped rolling, his head jerked up and my body stilled. Then the door buzzer went again this time for longer. This was difficult to ignore. It became worse when Luke’s phone rang. Both of these were impossible to ignore. But then my purse started ringing.
“You have got to be f**kin’ kidding me,” Luke snarled.
The buzzer silenced then started again immediately.
Luke’s hand moved away, his arms wrapped around me and he rolled, taking me with him and knifing to a sitting position on the side of the bed, me in his lap. He snatched the phone out of its cradle and growled into it, “This better be f**kin’ good.”
I was still out of it, trying to wrap my thoughts around this terrible turn of events when Luke said, “Ma?”
Oh… my… God.
I was sitting, nearly na**d (Luke was naked) in Luke’s lap, post-nearly-having-a-Lucas-Stark-induced-orgasm (something I’d wanted since I was sixteen and learned what they were) and Mrs. Stark was on the phone.
This was not happening.
I tried to tug away but Luke’s arm went tight and his eyes sliced to me.
“I’ll buzz you in,” he said, looking at me.
Eek!
My mouth dropped open and my eyes bugged out, totally affecting a Sissy Gawk. He put the phone down.
“My mother’s here,” he told me, totally calm (though his eyes were still ink).
I didn’t have time for inky eyes. I flew into a tizzy.
“Holy crap. Oh my God. Holy crap,” I chanted as I pulled out of his lap and threw myself on the bed, crawling over it to the other side where Luke tossed the Triumph tee last night. I nabbed it from the floor and whipped my legs around into a sitting position, my back to Luke, and tugged it on. Then I snatched my glasses off the nightstand and slid them on my nose.
I jumped up, ready to sprint to the bathroom and ran headlong into Luke whose arms closed around me.
“Ava, calm down.”
I tilted my head to look up at him. “Mrs. Stark is here!” I shouted.
He grinned. What there was to grin about, I did not know but I didn’t have time to ask.
“Let me go. I need to get dressed. You need to get dressed.”
I looked down and saw he was wearing his cargos.
Thank God for that.
I gave another tug but his arms went tighter.
“Babe, seriously, calm down. Ma likes you. She’s always liked you.”
I stared at him again in a gawk.
I knew this, of course. Mrs. Stark had always been nice to me. She was a nice lady. I sometimes wondered why she was friends with my Mom but then again she was friends with everybody.
“I know that, Luke, but she doesn’t want to catch me up here with you going commando in your cargos and me in nothing but a Triumph tee and a pair of panties.”
“She’ll do f**kin’ cartwheels. She’s hated every woman I’ve ever dated.”
Whoa.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
That had to go so deep. I needed to bury it next to the molten core at the center of the earth.
I tried to pull away but it was too late, the elevator doors were opening. My head snapped toward the doors and I froze, still standing in Luke’s arms as Mrs. Stark walked out of the elevator.
This is interesting, Bad Ava said, sounding sleepy.
Good Ava yawned. What’d I miss?
Mrs. Stark turned, she had a small smile on her face but it went wonky when she caught sight of us standing across the room. Luke didn’t drop his arms and as I was frozen, my hands resting on either side of his chest under his shoulders, I didn’t move.
Luke looked like his Dad. His Mom was petite, kinda round, she had blonde hair but now it was mostly gray (and she left it at that). She was a motherly-type mom who dressed like a mom, talked like a mom and acted like a mom. Therefore she stood there wearing a pair of slacks with a neatly pressed crease, a flouncy blouse, a set of classy but mom-like pumps with short heels, appropriately-sized earrings and her hair had obviously been recently set.
“Oh my,” she said softly, her eyes moving to her son. “Luke you should have –”
“Hey Mrs. Stark,” I broke in nervously, taking my hands off Luke’s chest and turning. One of his arms dropped away from me, the other one kept me close to his side by slicing across my waist, his fingers putting pressure at my hip.
Mrs. Stark blinked.
I hadn’t seen her since her husband’s funeral. Considering her son’s reaction to the new me, I felt it was a good idea to cut to the chase.
“It’s Ava,” I said.
“Ava,” she repeated and kept looking at me. After a beat, the light dawned and she whispered, “Ava.” Then her eyes moved to Luke then back to me then to Luke. Then, I kid you not, she looked like she was going to burst into tears.
“I just need to…” Her head swung around, for some reason frantically. She spied the bathroom and started toward it. “Freshen up.” She disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door.
I whirled on Luke and, completely at a loss for words, leaned forward, hands straight down to my sides in fists and glared.
He took one look at me and burst into laughter. I lifted up both hands and gave him a big, old shove. He didn’t move back with the shove (of course). Instead, his arms closed around me and he pulled me close, his face went to my neck and he was still laughing so I could feel it against my skin.