Second Opinion (9 page)

And that was most definitely a first for me.

CHAPTER 8

I lifted her hips to slip out of her, but she didn’t move. She remained on my chest. She pressed a soft kiss just beside my nipple.

“Christ,” I murmured.

“Same here.” Her voice was a soft slur, a contrast to the screaming I’d just heard out of her.

“That was…” I was at a loss for words. Fuck. I was
never
at a loss for words.

“Yeah. It was. I want to do it again.”

I chuckled. “I need five minutes to recharge. Maybe ten.”

She lifted her head to look me in the eyes.

Goddamn, she was beautiful. Her eyes still held lust, but now they were sleepy. Her hair was messy after our fucking.

“That whiskey made me a little drunk.”

“Nothing to do with the sex?”

She giggled. “I’m drunk on Grant Carpenter.”

“Drink away, baby.”

“Dammit. I can’t believe I just fucked the brother of one of my best friends.”

“I can’t believe I just fucked one of my sister’s best friends. And I can’t believe I’m talking about my sister while said friend is still lying naked across my body.”

She laughed, and I found myself wanting to hear more of that beautiful sound. She rolled off of me, and I immediately missed her scent, her heat. Her body. Everything about her.

“I gotta pee,” she announced, padding through the room to my bathroom.

I took care of the condom and then pulled the sheet over my body for warmth after she left.

“Come here,” I said when she emerged a few moments later.

She settled into the bed beside me, and I pulled her body against me. Typically I wasn’t a cuddler. Her hair was in my face, which normally annoyed the fuck out of me. I never felt the urge to hold a woman after I fucked her. Usually I wanted her to stick to her side of the bed if she insisted on staying the night.

But I was actually really enjoying just breathing in her hair. I relished holding her in my arms. I liked having her beside me.

And all I could think about was how I wanted this to happen again.

Not necessarily that night. Maybe not even in the morning, although I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to that.

I wanted to see her again. I wanted to take her out. I wanted dinner and conversation and friendship.

And for sure I wanted to find my way into that perfect pussy again.

“How drunk are you?” I asked.

“Drunk enough to fall asleep. Sober enough to know what I’m doing.”

“Right answer.”

“I like you, Grant Carpenter.”

“I like you, too, Avery Peterson.”

“You’re not a relationship guy. I’m not a relationship girl. I feel like that makes us perfect for each other.”

“I think maybe it does, too,” I admitted. I felt like I should be scared or shocked by my admission, but I wasn’t. Maybe I hadn’t noticed her before, but something had built up between us in the time we’d spent together.

I leaned over and flipped off the light. We lay in darkness together.

The liquor had clearly hit the woman in my bed. I didn’t feel drunk, but I did feel like it was okay to make some quiet confessions to Avery in the dark.

“What if we just started something, Avery?” I asked.

“I think we did.”

“I think we did, too. I want to see you again. Not just to fuck you, but to get to know you.” I wasn’t sure where the revelation came from. The idea hadn’t even fully formed in my head before the words were out of my mouth.

“I’d like that. I like you. But I also want you to fuck me again.”

“I think we can probably arrange that.”

“I want to fall in love, Grant.”

Fuck.

The dreaded “L” word.

The “L” word had always scared me.

Rachelle had been the only woman I’d used the word with. Fuck, she’d been the only woman I even entertained the idea of love with.

But then she had said no. And then she popped back into my life a few years later and fucked me up for every woman who would ever follow her.

I still hated her for what she did to me.

I still loved her for everything she meant to me.

Every woman wanted love. Every woman wanted to be adored and cherished. I just wasn’t the man who would provide that.

“You’ll find it, Avery. I have no doubt.”

“Have you ever been in love?” she asked.

“Yeah. Once. Have you?”

“I think I’ve loved a lot of people. But I’m all sorts of screwed up.”

“What happened?”

“Let’s just say I’ve got issues. What happened to you?”

“I was in love with a girl who broke my heart. Twice.”

“Oh fuck. Twice?”             

“Told me I wasn’t ‘marriage material.’”

“Maybe you need a second opinion.”

I chuckled, because it was the exact same thing I’d thought when Rachelle had first said those hurtful words to me, words that continued hurting me long after she’d said them. Words that still left a scar. Words that completely changed the way I lived my life.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, cuddling further into me.

“It’s weird, Avery. I kind of do. With you. I’ve never felt that with anybody else.”

“When you’re ready.” Her voice was getting sleepy. “I’m here.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry for what she did to you, G-man. Whatever it is.” Her sleepy voice was now slurring pretty badly.

“G-man?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Would you prefer ‘Best Fuck of My Life’?”

“Only if it’s true.”

“It’s true.”

Even through the slur, I felt her sincerity. I knew the liquor we’d taken in shots had finally hit her. She needed to sleep it off, but I liked our quiet confessional in the dark.

“It’s a pretty accurate statement for me, too,” I admitted. “Goodnight, Ave.”

She mumbled some incoherent reply, and I listened as her breathing evened out.

She was asleep in my arms, her back to my front. I breathed her in again, reveling in her sweet floral scent.

It wasn’t the last time that night I did that. Far from it, in fact.

She was gorgeous. She was feisty, controlling, and interesting. She made me feel things that had been dormant for years.

And as I held her against me, I realized I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted to enjoy every moment we had together, because I had no idea how long it would last.

I wasn’t sure how many hours of sleep I got. I was a little obsessive about getting my eight hours each night. Part of being healthy meant a well-balanced diet and plenty of sleep.

But I lay awake all night, just holding Avery as she quietly slept.

My mind was whirling with possibilities, but ultimately my logic won out.

I liked Avery.

But first, she was my sister’s friend.

And second, I didn’t do relationships.

Apparently Avery didn’t, either.

So what was I so worked up about? Why hadn’t I slept a single minute? Why was I focusing only on Avery’s scent, the way her body felt against mine, the way I wanted to hold her in my arms forever?

That shit scared the fuck out of me. It wasn’t me. I wasn’t some sensitive, sweet man who would settle down to my forever.

I was a bit of a douche most of the time. I was an ass who got what he wanted almost all of the time. I liked sex, I liked women, and I liked liquor, cars, porn, and video games. I was a manly man. I didn’t shave if I didn’t want to, and I wore my hat backwards if I felt like it and subscribed to
Playboy
. I loved lifting weights and doing crunches and running. I ate those pre-made salads or cereal for almost every meal because I didn’t know how to cook.

My bathroom was a mess.

My closet was totally disorganized.

I liked dogs. I hated cats. I liked fucking. I hated emotions.

So why was I up all night thinking about Avery and that gorgeous look on her face when her eyes rolled back and she shattered into the orgasm I’d given her?

I’d never lost sleep over a woman before, but as I held her against me, savoring the feel of her in my arms, I couldn’t help but think about what a future with her might be like.

I was completely out of my comfort zone as I tried to drift into a sleep that wouldn’t come.

***

Avery shifted in my arms, and I knew she was awake.

We had a brunch followed by the gift session where the bridal party was invited to watch the bride and groom open their wedding presents. As best man and brother of the bride, I was sort of required to be there. So when Avery woke, I knew it was time for me to get up, too. We needed to get down to brunch, but we also needed to sneak Avery back to her room so no one would know what had happened between us.

I had a feeling Veronica already knew after our chat during our dance.

I didn’t want to steal my sister’s thunder, so to speak, so what had happened between Avery and me had to remain secret.

If we were just fucking, it would be our little secret.

But if we explored it and it turned into something more, we could let people know.

The really strange thing was that I even had that thought in the first place.

It had been years since I considered “exploring” to see if it would turn into “something more.” I was hesitant to try it. And by “hesitant,” I meant I was more scared about it than I’d ever been about anything in my life. Including the time when I was eight and we were at the zoo and I held a tarantula in my hands. Including the time when I was twelve and I went to the scariest haunted house in the East Valley and a masked man chased me with a chainsaw. Including the time when I had sank into the darkness that I still hadn’t fully climbed out of after Rachelle broke me.

I still wasn’t sure how overnight she had gone from my sister’s friend to this incredible woman who was making me think about things I hadn’t thought about in years.

But somehow she had.

I never believed in fate or love at first sight or any of that stupid shit. People always said when you meet someone who is right for you, you just know.

It’s all a bunch of lies.

I’d known Avery for a long time, and I had never seen her as a prospect. Sure, I had always thought she was sexy. I’d furtively glanced at her breasts more than my fair share of times when I knew she wasn’t looking. I thought about her lips and how they would feel wrapped around my cock… something I still had yet to experience.

Wait one goddamn minute.

I’d gone down on her the night before, but I never got payback.

And the weirdest thing was that I had no expectations for a return.

That most definitely was a first.

I couldn’t think of a time – Rachelle included – when I’d initiated oral sex by giving it to the woman first. Yes, I gave it, and yes, I enjoyed it; but usually it was a return for a job well done.

With Avery, though, I hadn’t had any expectations. I couldn’t wait to fuck her.

And now I couldn’t wait to get her on her knees.

“Good morning,” I murmured into her ear. I kissed her temple as my fingertips stroked gently up her torso.

“Mmmm. Do that again.”

I pressed my lips to her temple again, my fingers still stroking a pattern up and down her body.

“Did you sleep well?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said, stretching against me. We were both still naked. “Really well. You?”

“Yeah,” I lied. I hadn’t slept at all because my mind was working overtime as I contemplated what “more” might be like with this confusing and gorgeous creature I held in my arms, but I couldn’t very well tell her that.

“I’m sore,” she complained as she stretched her legs out and turned toward me.

My lips met hers softly. "I can’t really say I’m sorry about that.”

She giggled, a musical sound to my ears. “Worth it. What time is it?”

I glanced over at the clock. “A little after nine.”

“Fuck. I have to go.”

“I know. But I don’t want you to.”

“Trust me when I say I don’t want to. When can I see you again?”

“Brunch?”

She rolled her eyes at me, and I cupped her breast with my hand. She moaned, her eyes closing briefly at my touch.

“Don’t start that shit or we’ll both be late and everyone will know what we did.”

I shifted so I was hovering over her. I nuzzled her neck, planting kisses in my path. “So what?” I asked against her skin, trailing my lips down until I found her nipple. I pulled it between my teeth, biting gently before soothing it with my tongue.

“Oh fuck it,” she said, and then her hips bucked up toward mine. My dick pressed against the warmth of her pussy, and she grinded up toward me.