I pushed into her in one slow, deliberate stroke, watching her face as her body accommodated me. Her eyes widened, lips parting on a silent gasp as I filled her completely. For a moment, we held still, adjusting to the overwhelming sensation of being connected.
Papers crinkled beneath her as she groaned with each thrust. The practical part of my brain registered that anyone walking past my glass-walled office would get quite a show, but I was too far gone to care.
“Oh my God, Langston, yes,” she chanted, my name as I drove deeper.
Her responsiveness fueled my own pleasure, pushing me to find angles that made her breath catch, speeds that made her nails dig crescents into my skin. When her inner muscles began to flutter around me, I slipped a hand between our bodies, thumb finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that would send her over the edge.
“Come for me, Trouble. Let me feel you,” I murmured against her ear, using the old nickname deliberately.
Aven shattered with a cry that I captured with my mouth, swallowing the sound as her body convulsed around mine. The sight of her coming undone, head thrown back, eyes closed in ecstasy, my name on her lips, sent me hurtling after her. Mymovements faded as release crashed through me more intense than anything I’d ever experienced.
Afterward, we ended up on the floor again, my suit jacket serving as a makeshift pillow beneath our heads. Aven’s body curved against mine, her back to my chest, my arm draped over her waist. She admired the shield and key logo tattoo I designed for Black Security.
“I always wondered if you’d get ink. It suits you,” she murmured, voice lazy with satisfaction.
I pressed a kiss to her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her skin. It was the most intoxicating thing I’d ever smelled. “Got it as a reminder of what I built.”
She turned in my arms, facing me. “You built something amazing, Lang. I’m proud of you.”
They were four simple words, but they landed with the weight of absolution.I’m proud of you.No one’s ever said that to me. Not my mother, lost in her own battles. Not my grandparents, who expected nothing less. Not even Tamika or my employees, who respected the business but didn’t know the boy I was or the odds I overcame.
Aven knew. Aven saw me at my worst and still believed in my best.
I traced the curve of her cheek, wondering how familiar her face was despite the changes time had brought.
“Why did we wait so long for this?” The question escaped before I evaluated it, raw with honesty that post-sex vulnerability brought.
“I don’t know. Fear. Timing. Not to mention, you’re stubborn as hell,” she answered with no hesitation.
I arched an eyebrow. “Me? You’re the one who got on that bus without looking back.”
“You’re the one who let me. You could have asked me to stay,” she countered.
The truth sat heavy between us. I could have asked. Should have asked. I wanted to ask, but I convinced myself she deserved better than a boy with a questionable reputation and an uncertain future.
“I’m asking now. Stay, Aven. Not just until we find Morales. Not just until you get back on your feet. Stay with me.”
Her eyes widened, searching my face for insincerity. “Took you long enough, Lang.”
As she leaned in to seal the request with a kiss, I marveled at how easily fifteen years of distance could collapse into nothing with the right person. No woman had ever made me feel this combination of desire, tenderness, and complete certainty. No woman had ever been Aven.
And as her body pressed against mine, reigniting the hunger we’d barely begun to satisfy, I moved my head between her legs. I silently promised myself I wouldn’t let her go again. Not for pride, or anything this world might throw at us.
Chapter
Seven
AVEN
I woke up to my body being satisfied in ways it hadn’t in years. The pleasant ache between my thighs had me remembering his hands gripping my hips. I pressed my face into the pillow with a groan.Nope. Not going there.What happened last night was a physical release, stress relief, of two consenting adults scratching an itch that had been festering for years. Nothing more.
A traitor to my rational mind, my body remembered differently. I felt lighter. Langston’s touch released years of tension I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying. I stretched my arms overhead, enjoying the pull of muscles that had received a thorough workout last night.
“Stop it. It was just sex. Don’t make it a whole damn thing,” I muttered to the empty room, throwing back the covers with more force than necessary.
Raina’s attic, my temporary holding cell until I got my life together, was small but mercifully private. The slanted ceiling forced me to duck as I made my way to the dresser wedged beneath the window. I grabbed my phone, checking for notifications before anything else, a habit formed in BuenosAires when waking up meant immediately scanning for signs of Leo’s presence. There had been no texts from unknown numbers, no alerts had been received from the security system Langston installed, and no mysterious social media tags.
The bathroom was mercifully empty. Raina must already be at work, and I cranked the shower as hot as it would go. Steam quickly fogged the mirror. Under the scalding spray, I scrubbed every inch of my skin, as I remembered Langston’s hands, his mouth, the way he whispered“Stay with me”against my neck in a moment of post-orgasm vulnerability.
