We finished the last of the food in companionable silence, the empty containers between us on the office floor. Aven stretched her arms overhead, the movement causing her blouse to ride up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin above her waistband. I forced my eyes away, reaching for the paper bag that contained the fortune cookies, a final ritual of our impromptu feast. One cookie was left.
“Here you take the last one,” I said, tilting the bag toward her.
She shook her head.Stubborn ass.“We always split the last one. Don’t tell me you forgot the rules.”
The rules.Like we were still seventeen, sprawled across my grandparents’ living room floor with history textbooks and Chinese takeout, creating arbitrary rituals that somehow became law. It was a lifetime ago.
“I remember,” I admitted, breaking the cookie in half. The fortune fell between us, face down and unclaimed. Neither of us reached for it immediately, both knowing the rule. Whoever read it had to share.
We were sitting closer now, the containers from dinner pushed aside. Her knee almost touched mine, and I could smell her coconut-scented lotion again, stronger as her body heat activated it.
“You read it,” she said, voice softer than before.
I reached for the small slip of paper at the exact moment she changed her mind and went for it too. Our fingers collided, then froze in place. Her smaller hand partially covered mine, both touching the fortune no one now cared about.
Time suspended. I felt her pulse through her fingertips, or maybe it was my own heartbeat. Her eyes lifted to mine, and whatever she saw must have been what I was feeling, because her breath caught.
“Langston,” she whispered.
Fifteen years of distance evaporated in the space of a heartbeat. I don’t remember moving, but suddenly, she was in my lap, her thighs straddling mine as our mouths moved together with the force of a breaking dam.
Her tongue slid against mine, urgent and demanding, matching the desperation in my own movements. My hands wanted to touch her everywhere at once, touching her hair, sliding down her back, gripping her hips to pull her closer against me.
“Damn, Trouble, do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” I groaned against her mouth as she rocked against my hardness, already straining against my slacks.
Her hands framed my face, thumbs stroking my beard as she pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. “Show me. Show me how long,” she challenged. Her voice was husky with need.
I stood in one fluid movement, lifting her with me, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carried her the few steps to my desk. Papers scattered as I set her down, sweeping files and folders to the floor with one arm while my other hand remained anchored at the small of her back.
Her fingers attacked my tie, loosening it with surprising efficiency before moving to my shirt buttons. I was equally busy, tugging at her blouse, hands sliding against the warm skin of her stomach. When my hands cupped her breasts over her bra, she arched into the touch, head falling back to expose the column of her throat. I took the invitation, trailing kisses from her jaw down to her collarbone, lingering at the spot where her pulse beat against my lips.
Her bra joined our clothes on the floor. The sight of her bare breasts in the soft lamplight stopped my breath. She was more beautiful than I imagined during those lonely nights when I couldn’t help but wonder.
“You’re staring,” she said. A hint of vulnerability crept into her voice.
“Damn right. You’re fucking gorgeous, Aven.” My hands covered her ribcage, thumbs brushing the underside of her breast.
A flush spread across her chest at my words. Her legs tightened around me, pulling me closer as her hands worked at my belt.
“Protection?” she asked, practical even in the midst of passion.
I nodded toward my wallet. “Inside pocket.”
“Prepared for office encounters, Mr. Black?”
“Prepared for you,” I corrected.
Something in her teasing gave way to something deeper, more vulnerable. She pressed her forehead against mine, breath warm against my lips. “It’s always been you, Lang, even when I thought I had it all.”
The confession undid the last of my restraint. I covered her mouth again, pouring years of want, regret, and unacknowledged love into the kiss. Her skirt gathered up around her waist as my hands slid beneath it, finding the lace edge of her panties. When my fingers slipped beneath the fabric to find her already wet, ready for me, she moaned into my mouth, the sound vibrating through my entire body.
“Please. I’ve waited too long already,” she whispered against my lips.
We quickly removed the last of our clothes. Her skirt and panties joined the growing pile of clothing on my office floor, while my pants and boxers followed suit. She opened thecondom packet with her teeth, a move so unexpectedly sexy my knees nearly buckled. When her hands rolled it onto me, I had to grip the edge of the desk to maintain control.
And when there was nothing else holding us back, I positioned myself at her entrance. Our eyes locked, a moment of perfect clarity among the frenzy. This was my Aven, the girl who saved me, the woman who haunted me, now wrapped around me in my office at three in the morning like a wet dream come to life.
“Please,” she moaned, fingers digging into my shoulders.
