Thawing Ava (5 page)

Yes, Brice. Please more. Suck harder. Finger fuck me, yes
, she groaned as she pulled her nipples and rolled them.

He thrust his fingers in faster, pausing to hook the tips to rub over her G-spot. Brice needed her to come first, wanted to have her pleasure feed his own. A wave of pressure and desire filled his body until his skin felt as if it would burst. “Ava,” he rasped out, not caring if she heard him.

He worked his hand faster, tugging harder, had to reach that summit. Fantasy Ava cried out as her vaginal walls fluttered and clenched around his fingers. She came on gasps and moans. Brice came, with jets of cum hitting the shower wall, his stomach, and down his hips to flow to the drain. His body felt like jelly, and his brain was swathed in cotton. As the afterglow settled on him, his thoughts cleared. He felt less frantic. The urge to leave and forget his loneliness had faded to nothing. He wanted to have dinner and laze in bed with Ava, catch up with her, and get to know why she’d want to marry that asshat. Anger flashed inside of him once more. He hated that she’d willingly bound herself to someone like Perry. A growl formed deep in his chest.

Besides getting his shit together on the ice, Brice was going to show Ava that she deserved so much more than a moron who couldn’t see her true value. He smiled. He could see the irony of that plan when he hadn’t gone after her himself. He grabbed the shower gel again and began to clean himself up.

Once he was sure he was clean and his thoughts weren’t hazed with needy pulses from his eager dick, he shut down the water, got out of the stall, and dried off. He didn’t bother getting dressed. Ava would have to get used to his way of unwinding after practice. Later he wanted to do some drills on the ice at the arena if he had time, something he hadn’t done in a long time. He wrapped a towel around his waist and gathered up his clothes and hat, put them in the laundry basket, and left the bathroom.

Banging of pots and pans and the opening and closing of the refrigerator door drifted toward him as he padded around the corner to the kitchen. The scents of chicken wafted on the breeze. His stomach grumbled even though he’d eaten lunch with the team.

Ava stood behind the cooktop island, a sheen of sweat on her forehead and cheeks. He grinned when he found her jacket off as he’d fantasized about. She had on a thin black sweater just like he’d imagined; he could see that she wore a belt with her jeans that hugged her hips. She moved with grace around his kitchen. Ava showed no awareness of him whatsoever, which amused him. Again his stomach grumbled. As much as he appreciated the gesture, he couldn’t help but poke at her. “I said I was making dinner.”

She looked up. Her eyes grew wide until he saw only a ring of brown. Her jaw dropped. She placed her hand down on the counter and knocked the ladle out of the saucepan. Liquid went flying, splattering the countertop, the stove top, the front of her sweater, and her face. He couldn’t help his grin. Pleasure purred through his body at how shocked she was but also how much she liked what she saw, guessing from the banked hunger in her eyes. He resisted the urge to trail his fingertips down the center of his chest and over his abdomen. Brice could feel his once-sated penis growing thick as blood pooled in his groin. He ignored his dick and watched how she reacted.

Ava pulled her attention away from him, turned off the burner, grabbed a towel, and began to clean up the mess. His amusement turned to lust as he watched her breasts swing with each movement of her arms. He pressed his lips together to keep the whimper in his throat from coming out. Rather than give in to his desire to kiss her again, he went to help her. She brushed him off. “I’ve got it. No worries. I was just making a stock for some soup. It’s getting colder out there. You need something to warm you up when it starts to snow. Also you need some on hand in case you and any of the guys catch a cold.”

Brice looked into the stockpot and grinned. Chicken bones and bits of meat floated around, but the smell was heavenly. His stomach grumbled again. He walked over to Ava and pressed a kiss on her temple. “Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. He meant what he’d said. His heart expanded at her thoughtfulness. If she made some homemade animal crackers, he’d have to marry her right then and there.

“You can thank me by putting clothes on. I’m staying in the loft bedroom, right?” She didn’t look at him as she rinsed off her dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. Ava still hadn’t changed her sweater, and he didn’t point out the wet patch on her chest. He would’ve loved if she just whipped off the top. Brice didn’t voice that idea; he knew she’d smack that down immediately. Instead he focused on her question even if it irked the dominant side of him that wanted
his
woman in
his
bed and close enough to hold and cuddle. “Yeah. Did you look around?”

He waited for her to say something that would make his heart hurt. Brice wanted her to feel welcome and comfortable in his home, even if it did lack color.

She nodded but still didn’t look at him. “Yes. You have a nice place, although, you need to add your touch to it. It’s so…plain.” She finished putting away the plates and utensils. “You have your hockey heroes here but nothing else.” She finally met his gaze, sadness in her eyes. “Where is your life outside of hockey?”

He winced at the prick to his pride. For the first time he looked around his apartment, and he could see what she meant. He had his hockey life; that was it. He hadn’t watched any of those movies in his impressive DVD collection in years, and some of them were his favorites. “You could decorate for me. I don’t have time. You saw my room. You know my tastes.” Brice wasn’t sure if she would take it as an opening to get to know him or crossing the line that she’d tried to set. He didn’t care if it was pushing things. He wanted this place to be a home for the both of them. They had to live here for however long until management thought he’d learned his lesson.

He flashed back to college and where she would sleep while taking care of him. She’d had no problem staying in his room, sleeping a few feet away in Davis’s bed. He’d wanted her to go back to her dorm and sleep there so she wouldn’t get sick, but she’d refused, saying he might need her, pushing her plump, tempting bottom lip out at him, enticing him for a kiss, despite the pain and discomfort he was in. Deep down he’d known he wanted more than just a kiss, even if it would hurt like hell. Now he had her under the same roof again, like they were that week in college, and she’d be a few feet away. This time it would be different.

“That was college, not now. And how am I to decorate your space and keep an eye on you?” Ava crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them up and drawing his eye to the thin fabric of her sweater and the still-wide stain from the broth. The top looked worn and pearled in places, as if it’d been tossed in the wash many times. He could even see a bit of her black bra. He filed that away for later, but his cock gave a jerk, wanting to explore under her shirt now.

“You don’t have to watch me during practice. Not like I’ll go nuts and hit on the female sports reporters on the scene. So can you maybe check a few things out, take some pictures, and I’ll decide if I want them or not.” He liked the idea that she would be shopping for him. For a moment he thought about her shopping for them, with her agreeing to stay with him, seeing where this would go. It was ridiculous that he’d want that now. He had to show her there was more to him than what the gossip rags suggested. Yes, he had made bad choices, but he wanted to change.

She frowned. “If you want to shop for furniture, I’ll go with you, but I won’t shop for you. Not getting rid of me that easily, Douglas. Anyway, it’s very personal. This is your place, not mine. Are you that afraid of furniture stores? And what would you do with all the other stuff?” Her dark brown stare bored into him. He shifted his stance and wanted to walk away, escape from that look that seemed to sear into his soul.

“They clean it and put it in storage unless someone moves in that needs furniture.” He knew he wouldn’t miss the stuff. Brice wasn’t a leather guy unless it involved leather pants, sex, or handcuffs.

“Eco-friendly to say the least. If we do this, I need to know you’ll be willing to help me. This is your space. I’m just a guest. Besides, this keeps you away from the pubs and clubs, and yes, I rhymed that on purpose.” She picked up the pot and began to strain the contents into a large storage container he hadn’t realized he owned. “Um, you going to get dressed? Unless you want to cook in the nude. That could be dangerous for your equipment, and I’m not sure how I’d explain that kind of accident without my father sending me back to Florida.”

“Why? Uncomfortable with the human body, sweetheart?” He was tempted to drop the towel but didn’t.

Ava didn’t answer. She just shook her head and continued what she was doing.

Brice loved that she wasn’t rising to the bait. “Fine. I’ll get dressed, but after this, you’ll have to get used to me shirtless and in sweatpants or nothing else.”

He stalked off to get dressed. Brice dropped the towel before he turned into his bedroom.
Let her get a glimpse of what she’s missing. Screw Perry. I’m going after what I want.

Chapter Four

Ava tried to ignore Brice as he moved around the kitchen, completely shirtless and clearly not wearing underwear, but her inner sex-starved woman wanted him naked and moaning as she went down on him. The outline of his semihard penis showed at the front of his baggy sweatpants, making her even more aware of his current state. Arousal made her body tight and her skin itch. She’d heard him in the shower, calling out her name, and his grunts and moans. There had been a brief moment when she’d flicked open the button fly of her jeans but thought better of it. Getting off wouldn’t help her corral Brice, and clearly he didn’t care about the rules.

At every turn he pressed and pushed and reminded her he was a man—a virile one at that—and he was very attracted to her. She couldn’t miss the glances he threw at her breasts, waist, and hips. It made her all the more aware that she still wore a damp sweater that reeked of chicken and garlic. Ava didn’t dare leave him and change; her clothing was still at her parents’ place. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him to stay put. It was that she didn’t want him to come with her and have her mother ask him questions and try to feed him. Josie had said he hadn’t been by the house in a while. Her mother wouldn’t miss a chance to grill him about his life, not what the gossip columns reported on or what her husband and son had told her. Josie would go into mother mode and wouldn’t let them leave until they were laden down with enough food to feed a hockey and football team.

Nor did she want to be stuck in the small cabin of his truck smelling like this. Especially not with her arousal refusing to go away no matter how much she ignored it or tried to think of unsexy things. None of it worked, not with Brice moving around her looking like a tanned buffet of sinful flesh who didn’t care what anyone thought of him. His sexual confidence hammered at the wall of her resistance. She couldn’t ignore the way his muscles slid under his skin or how tempting it was to trace the tattoos decorating his arms, chest, and sides. Her gaze kept darting back for more, eating up every nuance of his unveiled body. It felt as if she’d never seen a naked man before.

Ava wanted to hide somewhere. Drop her pants and get some relief, but she wouldn’t dare. Not with Brice lurking about and certainly not when he could walk in on her. She wasn’t sure if what she’d heard in the shower had been genuine, but that kiss was real enough.

If he’d teased her mouth open and pulled her against him, she would have been gone. That much she knew. Bad enough he’d managed to make her forget why she was there in the first place.

Now she couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the shower and him calling her.

She wasn’t sure how long she could go and not give in to her desires. He was pure sex walking and knew it. Put him in some leather pants, and she’d be a groupie at his feet begging him to fuck her, take her, tie her down, and spank her. Perry had thought her desires disgusting and unfitting for his girlfriend. She doubted Brice would allow her to ignore her needs. She didn’t want to say anything. Not only would it be inappropriate, but she didn’t want to deal with Brice’s rejection. Ava didn’t want to see his face as it scrunched up in disgust. How did you ask a man to tie you down or spank you? Would Brice look at her with less respect? She shoved those thoughts away.

No use thinking about it when it wouldn’t come true
. Couldn’t
come true.

He brushed past her, taking down pots and pans and opening drawers and grabbing cooking implements. Each encounter allowed her to feel his erection against her ass. A flare of heat bloomed in her belly and spread to her limbs and down her legs. She took a deep breath, then blew it out as she worked on making chicken soup. Ava thought about making crackers from scratch but didn’t want to go overboard. Besides the broth wasn’t for now; it was for later. She didn’t want it to seem as if she was mothering him. She did enjoy taking care of people, and it was clear he needed someone like that in his life.

As far as she could see there were no pictures of his parents or family anywhere unless you counted his teammates. She thought back to that Christmas; she knew his family traveled a lot. They’d hardly been in town to see his collegiate games. From what he’d told her, they were close, but she didn’t think they were as close as she was with her family, before Perry.

“Are you going to make homemade crackers too? I saw it done on some cooking show.” His query brought her back to the present. Was he a mind reader?

“I wasn’t sure if that would be too much. Do you want cheddar or plain? You don’t have any cheese, so we’d need to go get some.”

“We can do that. Are you gonna make noodles? I have a pasta maker if you want to use it. My mom gave it to me when I made the team. Thought it would encourage me to invite them over and cook.” He gave her a cheeky smile. He started to put together the ingredients for a sauce while he boiled water on the stove next to her pot of broth.