“It’s like Tolstoy said”—she stepped closer—“‘we lost because we told ourselves we lost.’”
Avery lifted her hands to his chest, her right hand over his heart. She pressed her face into his soft shirt and let his now smoky scent, the crackle of the fire, and the sound of rain falling on the roof calm her. His thumb rubbed tiny circles in the small of her back, slowly releasing her tension.
“Pepper.” His tone was playful, like he’d said her name halfway through a grin. “Did you readWar and Peace?”
He kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer.
“I read it after my engagement ended, because the person I missed most was you,” she said. “I see why you like it so much. It’s like a nineteenth-century scripted reality series with love, schemes, duels, soirees, religious conversions, trysts, love, and massacres.”
Miles lifted a loose tendril of hair and tucked it behind her ear,letting his thumb caress the spot that made her buzz. “You said love twice.”
“I like to think love can happen twice.” Avery laced her fingers behind his neck.
“I hope so,” he said.
“Miles.” She wanted to exhale his name over and over, in the evening, in the morning, and every time in between. For so many days she lost count. “You know how you told me to envision what I want? I want this.”
He lifted her hand off his chest and kissed it, never taking his eyes off hers. Avery tingled all over. They were on verge of something wonderful, and she wasn’t going to stop herself this time.
As if reading her mind, he pulled her closer. Miles slowly kissed her. His hands cupped her face, each tiny movement demanding more of her until his tongue begged at her lower lip. It was nothing like the kiss the night they’d searched for Casper. This one held want. It held heat. It held promise and the smoky aroma of a glowing fire.
Somewhere outside a tree branch fell, followed by a vicious clap of thunder. Avery jolted in his arms, her lips buzzing. He quietly contemplated her, not a trace of regret in his soft eyes. She ran her thumb along his stubbled jaw, stopping at the dent in his chin. The thrum inside her went liquid.
“Avery.” His brow furrowed. The care and concern in his sultry eyes echoed his voice. “I want this too, but if you need us to take our time, we can.”
Consent suited Miles.
“We’ve already taken our time,” she whispered. “I’m ready. What about you?”
“I’m a selfish man,” he said between kisses. “I’ve wanted to explore every inch of you since I saw you on the dock in May.”
His warm hand skimmed under her shirt. He brushed the soft skinabove her hip as he pressed his forehead against hers. Their eyes locked, and a second wave of his deep woods scent pushed her over the edge. She had to have him. Avery rocked her hips into his. He was hard. Miles was ready for this too.
“I’ll go at whatever pace you set,” he said. “But first, we need to talk safety.”
She pulled him to the desk and retrieved their phones. After they exchanged test results, his brow furrowed. He ran a hand down his face.
“Um, I don’t have a condom with me.” He placed his phone back on the desk, rocked back on his heels, and put his hands in his pockets. His eyes traveled to the ceiling and his cheeks flushed. Miles was a little embarrassed, which somehow made him more irresistible.
So he didn’t carry a condom with him—a built-in pause button to consider whether sex was something he wanted. She liked that, along with his current state of dishevelment. Avery placed a hand on the middle of his chest and pushed him until he leaned against the desk, his long legs cutting a diagonal to the floor.
Miles combed his hair with his fingers, messing it up in frustration. He was a brewing storm of tumultuous angst.
He dropped his hands. “What I wouldn’t give for just one…”
“Just one?” Avery smirked. She opened the desk drawer and pulled out the giant box of Golden Tiger condoms. The ones he had shoved in the drawer that day with Wes. “How long will it take us to get through two hundred fifty? Was it eight a day for a month?”
“Ha.” Miles took the box and shook it. “Not to sound full of myself, but past me was a genius.”
“I’m the genius.” Avery wrapped her hands around his neck. “You only wished for one.”
“Only because I have other tricks to make you moan and fist the bedsheets we’re about to dishevel.” He kissed along her clavicle. His strong, stealthy hands grazed over her curves and flirted with her waistband. “It’s only fun if we feel safe. If one of us gets overwhelmed and wants to stop, we stop. Agreed?”
“Mm-hmm.” She could abide by Miles’s acknowledgment of her agency and wouldn’t deny herself the elation of fisting those sheets.
He pulled the paintbrush out of her topknot, gathered her hair into a loose ponytail, and gently tugged it back, blazing a path of deliberate open-mouth kisses up her neck, each one igniting a spark that rippled through her. Miles worked his way to the spot below her ear, his breath hot on her goose bumped skin. She groaned when he skimmed her earlobe with his teeth and pushed her body closer to his.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “I’ll need more than one night for the things I want to do with you.”
