I wondered why that was. Perhaps there was still obvious chemistry between Avery and his ex that the fiancé was constantly picking up on. Or maybe their shared child was a cause for tension between the ex and her fiancé.
“Which is ridiculous,” Avery continued. “Because I’m not even in the picture. Carrie and I remained friends because there was no animosity between us when we divorced. Hell, I even sent them a damn night nurse after Carrie gave birth as a pushing gift.”
Not his kid.
Oh my god, I could fucking cry.
“That was nice of you,” I barely choked out before my voice cracked.
“I guess. What else was I supposed to get her? They’d already gotten plenty of diapers and outfits.”
I let out a soft snort.
Leave it to a billionaire to think of grand gestures as small acts of service. Such a typical Avery thing to do, though. He’d never once begged for a thank you after enacting a good deed, and half the time was surprised when he got one in the first place.
That was the charming thing about him. Helping people was second nature and not once did he ever expect anything in return. He was a good man—far better than me or anyone else I knew for that matter.
“Anyway,” he cleared his throat. “How, uh, how are you?”
“Is that code for something?”
He cleared his throat again. “I meant—fuck. Last night, Bran. How... are you okay?”
What a loaded question.
To be honest, I was fucking messed up in the head with no discernable way of fixing that, short of putting my damn brain inside of a tub of bleach and hoping for a damn miracle. It was safe to say that getting entangled with Avery was as I’d predicted the second he’d walked into my shop looking like a lost puppy: going to be my downfall.
Here was the problem, though. I didn’t know how tocareabout that. All I could focus on were these damn butterflies in my stomach that refused to calm down since the second he’d said that the child in question wasn’t his and that his ex had a damn fiancé.
Did that give me hope for something to bud between us?
Yes, of fucking course it did. No matter how much I tried to stamp these damn feelings down, nothing was stopping them from cracking through the concrete and blooming all the same.
“How are you?” I shot back instead of answering him.
“Don’t do this to me. Please.” The fear in his voice was not lost on me at all. “Did we—tell me if I fucked up.”
I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing.
Only Avery would think that after giving me a mind blowing orgasm and sending me to cloud fucking nine would count as him ‘fucking up’. Honestly, most men would be walking around with their heads held high and a kick in their step if they were in his shoes.
It never occurred to me how Avery was perceiving any of this. How he’d been worried aboutmewhen I’d be doing the same thing for him.
“I’m good,” I said.
“Brandon.”
Smiling, I said, “Avery. It was good.”
He was quiet on the other end for a long moment. “Really?”
“Yes. It was great.” Being bold like this sent a hot flash through my body. At this point, though, I didn’t care. He asked, so he’d get an honest answer. Even if it made me look like a damn fool.
“Bran, I...” He pulled in a sharp inhale. “I liked touching you. Like that.”
I pitched backward, hitting my mattress hard enough to bounce my body. I gnawed on my bottom lip a little whilecupping myself through my jeans again, giving my rapidly hardening cock a good squeeze.
Imagining it as his hands was only making me hornier—needier.
