Page 54 of The Sharpest Edges

She must have been right on the edge because she clutches at his head only a moment later, pushing herself into his mouth. He reaches up, splaying a hand over her lower belly to feel the trembles of her orgasm flutter through her, massaging herclit with his mouth until she mutters that it’s too much. Then he sits back, gazing at the pink of her skin, slick with their combined fluids.

He’s never been so happy to have put off breakfast in his entire life.

* * *

They don’t shower together.

There’s some unspoken agreement between them that decides they aren’t ready for that yet. Being naked in a bright shower stall is quite different from being naked in the darkness of her room or even the dusty morning sunlight. It’s a thing they need to work up to, but that’s fine by her. She’s heard stories of people falling and hitting their head on the tile during shower sex anyway, so they might only be missing head injuries and emergency room visits.

There is another reason though, an undercurrent in that unspoken agreement that says if they did end up in the shower together, once they got past the mutual hesitancy….Dean would be late for work. She would be too.

They’d probably never leave the house today, respective employers be damned.

It’s safer all things considered for them to take turns, so that’s what they do. When he comes into the kitchen, fresh and clean with damp hair and a wicked grin, Ava wants to kiss it right off him. Maybe he can tell because he comes up to where she’s seated at the island and leans in to press his lips to hers, minty fresh, and sweet.

He doesn’t waste much time getting to work on that frenchtoast, apparently serious about the breakfast he promised. No one has ever done this for her and she can’t help but prop her chin up on one hand and watch him work, an affectionate smile gracing her face every time he glances her way.

She is so hopelessly smitten that she’s not even trying to fight it anymore. It washes over her like a warm wave while this man she’s grown so attached to makes her food after the best sex of her life.

The best sex of her life…

She had sex, and she is still in one piece.

She didn’t feel like one more piece of her soul was stolen once it was over. She enjoyed it and that has never happened, not once, before she met Dean.

Never told someone she loved them and meant it before she met him, either.

When they move to the table, ready to dig into a mountain of decadent french toast, he sits first and wraps an arm around her waist, giving her a light tug until she’s seated in his lap. It’s a bold move, and she is so proud that he’s comfortable enough to initiate it. These little moments between them are still milestones.

“You ready to have your mind blown?” He gestures to the plates.

“For the third…fourth time?”

He fights a bashful smile as if on cue, telling her to stop in a way that sounds like never stop.

She digs into her breakfast like a food critic, wrapping her lips around the fork and tasting the most divine mixture of cinnamon and whipped cream, strawberries, and a hint of syrup. She might have moaned just a little in some obscene way, but it was the right reaction because delight blooms onhis face at her positive feedback.

They spend the rest of the morning eating good food and stealing kisses in between bites, making plans for him to come over tomorrow and take another look at her car even though she’s not sure she cares much about fixing the oil leak anymore and only wants an excuse to see him again, knowing she doesn’t need one.

She wants to tell him he can come back tonight after work, thinks he’s five seconds away from suggesting that himself or asking if she’d like to come to his place instead, but neither of them follows through on it. Much as she hates the idea of spending the night alone, the logical side of her knows it’s better to have some time apart. They can’t wrap their lives around each other this early on.

So she sends him off with a kiss and smile, her belly full and her heart twice its size.

Ava wears that same smile all day, straight through her morning shift, well into lunch, and it remains even after she’s gotten back home. She’s not used to feeling this happy and some part of her starts to wonder if the other shoe will drop, or if she’s setting herself up to fail by allowing these feelings to grow untamed.

She shakes that thought away. Panda will be her only companion tonight, but he’s a welcome option, curled onto her lap in a little ball, full of warm purrs.

And then her phone rings, jolting her from the first episode of a show about time travelers. Lori’s worried voice and clipped tone on the other end confirm that the conversation Ava’s been putting off for days is about to happen whether she wants it to or not.

22

Chapter 22

Ava hardly slept a wink. She tossed and turned and stared at the ceiling, ran her fingers through Panda’s soft fur, and tried not to think of the impending conversation with Lori over lunch the next day. It’s not her job to explain herself, but once she does, she can only hope that Lori will understand. Maybe even be happy about what’s she’s found with Dean.

That’s another reason she hardly slept because every second she wasn’t thinking of Lori, she was thinking of Dean, and everything they’ve done together in crystal clear high-definition detail. It’s the best porn she ever watched right there behind her closed eyelids.

Not to mention that she misses him.

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