"Crazed?" I lock the door with a deliberate click. "Worried half out of my fucking mind?"
"Well," she says, clutching her shirt to her chest, "I wouldn't have put it like that, but…"
Surging across the room, I cup her sweet face in my hands as she gasps, eyes wide. "You could've been hurt, you…" My tongue feels clumsy, I can't make the rest of the words come out, so I kiss her instead. Hard, relieved, the scent of her invading my senses, the sharp sting of antiseptic, the peppermint soap she loves, and underneath it all, a light lavender scent that was always her.
"Wow," she gasps. I press her down on the gurney that's been pushed against the far wall. "Dmitri!" Her eyes are wide, darting toward the door. "Your motheris right outside –"
"She's busy. No one's getting through that door." I cut her off, kissing her again, fingers greedily yanking down her bra andtugging on her nipples. Her hand flies up to my hair, sliding her fingers through it and clutching a fistful, and I grin at the sting as she tugs it.
"Hey, hold on…"
I pull back just slightly, her breath warm against my skin. "Do you really want me to stop?" Her mouth opens and closes and I know I've won. Yanking down her jeans, I rip open my pants, her small hand joins mine, pulling my cock out, just as greedy as I am. I don't bother to pull her panties down, just yank them aside as I sink into her with a relieved groan.
Safe, underneath me, covered by me. I put more of my weight on her, hearing her gasp, but her legs still wrap around my back, heels digging in as I thrust harder. She wasn't quite ready for that first thrust, but now she's getting wet, slicker to help me. The muscles in her strong thighs tighten, pushing my hips, and I slam against her harder, pounding into her.
"So tight for me, fuck… Take me, Magpie. Just like that." I'm grunting like a madman, we're sweating, her hands slip against my skin as she tries to grip my shoulders. Scooping my arms under her thighs, I lift her hips, thrusting harder as her midnight eyes darken, her breasts bouncing madly. "I'll keep you safe. I'll stay fucking buried inside you every second if that's what it takes."
"That's gonna make riding the subway really awkward," she manages to gasp out and we both laugh. Sex with Ava is different; I've never laughed so much with a woman, much less while I'm inside her. Then, that perfect moment when I feel her slick cunt tighten down on me as I surge into her hard and we come together, shuddering, her sharp little teeth biting my shoulder to muffle her scream.
My mother's face is carefully expressionless as she thanks Ava for her work and walks us to the exit, but the faces of her nursing staff are varying shades of red to nearly purple, trying to stifle their laughter. Biting down on my shoulder like a little badger wasn't enough to keep Ava quiet, but I'll enjoy the bruises shaped by her teeth as a well-earned battle wound.
***
"I can hear you thinking from all the way in here," I call from the bathroom. Ava is flat on her back on our bed, staring up at the ceiling. She hasn't moved since our second round of what she called, "Thank god you're alive" sex. We managed to hold off until we made it back to the penthouse.
"I'm trying to remember my famous cheesecake recipe," she calls back. "I haven't made it for a while, so I'm making a list of all the ingredients I need."
I walk into the bedroom, drying my hands. "Is there a specific reason you're intent on making cheesecake?"
Sitting up with a groan, she points her finger at me. "Not just cheesecake. It's a white chocolate cheesecake with a blueberry glacé garnished with fresh strawberries and blueberries. My brother used to cry like a baby when I'd make it for his birthday."
"Are you two close?" Her smile disappears. I already know the answer from the background report Kolya compiled for me. She hasn't spoken to anyone in her family for over two years. Her mother and she exchange cards at Christmas
"Not so much now," she says, looking down at her phone. "My family is involved in what I call a cult and they call a 'deeply committed Christian experience.' They weren't happy when I chose to go to medical school out of state and then were done with me after I chose to practice here instead of coming homeand 'serving the community,' as my father said." She gives a humorless chuckle. "I'm not going to judge them for the life they've chosen, even if they've judged mine."
Getting out of bed, she hurriedly dresses when she sees me dropping my towel, my cock thickening. "I didn't know baking talk turned you on. I'm going to see if one of your bodyguards can take me shopping since both of mine have bullet holes."
"Becauseboth of your bodyguards have bullet holes," I retort, "it should seem logical that we order the groceries in, rather than putting you in danger to hand select your strawberries. And everything about you turns me on."
She pretends to glare at me with a muttered,"Fine."
In the kitchen, I open cabinet doors for her and bring down items from above her reach, which is nearly everything. Maybe I should have one of our finish carpenters create a step running along all the cabinet space to give her a boost. I find myself liking the permanence of that.
I know she is as shaken by the day's violence as I am because for the rest of the night, we kiss constantly, she touches me every time she passes by a light stroke of her fingers against my arm, or her hand on my back as she reaches up for a baking pan. When the ingredients are delivered, I unpack them for her and rinse off the berries.
"Do you do a lot of baking?" she asks, "Because I know pastry chefs that would give you their kidney for a crack at this kitchen."
"No," I shrug. "I just ordered the kitchen to be fully stocked when my designer finished the penthouse for me. You've already seen the full range of my cooking abilities."
"I'm not in a position to judge," she says dryly, garnishing the cheesecake with the berries and cutting me a slice. "You already know you didn't invite Giada De Laurentiis as a house guest."
"Your baking skills should be Michelin-starred," I say, pointing a fork at her. "This cheesecake is sublime." And it is, the crisp layers of the white chocolate melt into the creamy cheesecake and the bite of the blueberries is a perfect tart edge. "Who's the second one for?" I ask, eyeing the other cheesecake cooling on the rack.
"Don't you get any ideas, Mister," she says sternly. "That's for Gordi."
"Gordi? You're taking cheesecake to Gordi, the sandwich guy?"
"Why not?" She's a bit defensive. "Everybody in New York likes cheesecake. I know it's not much, but I wanted to thank him for saving our lives yesterday. The man is my hero and if I had a million dollars I would give it to him."
