Page 6 of Avery's Hero

One damned kiss.

For a year, I haven’t been able to fall asleep at night without dying to taste her again.

She feels something too. Or her throat wouldn’t be working convulsively. She wouldn’t be clutching the hell out of the back of that chair. Her color wouldn’t look like she’s burning up from the inside out.

Fuck. I’m really in a damned mess now. And I don’t see a way out. It’s her or me. Working with Avery is going to be harder than anything I’ve done in my life.

I finish the second bottle of water and thump the empty down onto my desk. She takes her seat again, looking skittish as hell.

“Have you found an apartment yet?” I almost groan as soon as the words are out of my mouth.

Way to go. Talk about sounding like a creep. “Someone on the team might be able to assist,” I offer quickly, hoping to cover up my slip—my need to know everything about her.

“No, I was hoping I could stay in the bunk room for awhile until I get that sorted out. Pendergrass said it was open if I needed it.”

I’m not sure whether to be happy as hell, or ready to tear shit up. The thought of Avery, all warm and sleepy, curled in her bunk, just feet down the hall from my office, is more than any man deserves to endure.

“I’ll get one of the guys to show you around.”

Shoving off my chair, I take a few angry strides to the door and practically twist the knob off as I swing it open. This meeting is done. Before I snap.

Mental note, never, ever be alone with Avery again.

She rises, but for a second, she stands perfectly still.

My left hand clenches. It’s seared with the memory of the warm, bare skin that I found beneath the back of her shirt that night.

I’m a strong man.

But right now I feel as weak as an alcoholic pining away for his next drink. I’ve even got the shakes.

Fuck. This sucks.

The devil sitting on my shoulder needles at me.Come on, big man, I thought you were tough.

Yeah, yeah. I know. It only takes one five-foot-five brunette to prove that is a terrible misconception.

As she moves to pass through the open doorway, my hand snakes out and encircles her slender upper arm. I swear electricity leaps from the place where our skin touches.

I’m on the slipperiest slope ever known to man.

Those man-killer eyes are full of conflicting emotion when she tips her face up to me. Her mouth drops open just a little, and her tongue darts out, tracing her lower lip with moisture.

I close the door. Too hard. It echoes in the room, and surely, through the hallway.

Tugging her to the side, away from prying eyes, I press her to the wall. “Avery, look…”

I’m suddenly locked up like someone turned me to stone. I can’t make myself move away. We’re inches apart. Close enough for me to practically taste her. I’m furious at myself for touching her.

“Brock.”

That word… It’s the softest, breathiest whisper. Avery’s perfection doesn’t stop with her eyes. She’s got that kind of husky bedroom voice that does something violent to a man.

I know better, but I press my nose to her temple, breathing her clean, warm scent in. “I haven’t forgotten a single thing about that kiss.”

Time halts as we stand, surrounded by electric air, our breathing far too intimate. Her hand fists the front of my shirt. “Neither have I.”

When I grip her chin, she leans her body into mine. Molding her soft curves into the planes and angles of mine.

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