‘No, I’m not okay. I think I’m ruined for anyone else who comes after you.’ She giggles and flops back on to the pillow, her dark hair fanning out across the white material.
Something lurches inside my stomach. My jaw locks. ‘Don’t talk about anyone else while you’re still naked beneath me.’
‘Careful, Cillian. A woman could get the wrong idea.’ She arches her eyebrows and exhales a sigh of what I hope is contentment.
‘The only idea you need to concern yourself with right now is which way you want it next.’ Grabbing her wrists, I position them above her head, pinning her in position. ‘You, Ava Jackson, are in for a long night.’
The soft gentle breathing of another human stirs me from a deep, satiated slumber. My arm is dead beneath the weight of the most beautiful body I’ve ever had the pleasure of exploring, but I can’t bring myself to pull it away. Waking up next to Ava feels oddly natural. When she turns in her sleep and nuzzles against the smattering of hair across my pecs, something kindles in my sternum.
The permanent pang of loneliness has been plugged, temporarily at least.
I hadn’t realised how starved of affection I’d been.
I starved myself, out of choice. Unable to risk bringing another person into my messed-up life, knowing that eventually a relationship will always lead to an expectation of taking ‘the next step’.
Every woman I’ve dated has thought they’d be the one to change me. It always ends in disappointment – theirs. That’s why I’ve abstained the past eighteen months. I don’t enjoy hurting women. But I am what I am, and I’m never going to change. I don’t know how.
This arrangement with Ava allows me to enjoy the short-term intimacy of female company, without any of the drama, anticipation, and ultimate heartbreak.
Last night blew anything before it out of the water. Ava Jackson is not leaving this room until I get a definitive answer to when we can do this again. Because it was transcendent.
We signed up to spend the month together. Which hopefully means we get to do this for the month too, by which point, this attraction between us will have run its course.
Teagan will be off my back.
Ava will have her investment, and enough confidence to get back in the saddle. The thought sends a hot wave of irritation surging over my spine, but I push it down.
All is good in the world.
Ava stirs, her palm brushes over my pec lazily. ‘Morning,’ she mumbles sleepily.
‘Morning.’ I press a kiss against her forehead. I tell myself it’s because it would be a dick move to be cold towards her after exploring every inch of her flesh last night, but I’m not kidding anyone. Least of all myself. I kiss her head because I feel close to her. Closer than I’ve felt to any woman in a long time. I like waking up with her.
‘Shall I order room service?’ I trace lazy circles across her luminous skin.
‘Yes please.’ She peeps up from beneath those long ebony lashes. ‘Order everything. I need pancakes. Eggs. Waffles. Fruit. Bottomless coffee. And get two of everything. I’m not sharing. You’re not my boyfriend. And even if you were, which you never will be, I still wouldn't share. I’m starving after last night.’
‘You’re about to get a whole lot hungrier.’ I yank her body on top of mine and position her knees either side of my hips. This is a short-term arrangement. I’d be a fool not to wring out every second of pleasure while I can.
Ava rocks up to a sitting position and grinds her hips against mine. I managed to tear that lingerie off her eventually last night. And as predicted, it’s ruined. I should probably buy her more.
I palm her nipples and they pebble at the contact. ‘You’re a bad man, Cillian Callaghan. Just not in the way I thought.’
‘A fact we can both agree on.’
ChapterNineteen
AVA
Thursday 7th December
I haven't heard from Cillian since I left The Shelbourne this morning. Not that I expected to, given that he’s not actually my boyfriend, but seeing as we spent eight hours physically joined at the hip and mouth, a text might have been nice.
‘Still reliving last night’s sexual awakening?’ Bonnie teases, tossing a luminous yellow highlighter across the office at me.
I shelter my face from the incoming stationery and wonder why I ever thought it was a good idea to hire my best friend. She can read me like a book. ‘Do you have to use such cringe-worthy vocabulary?’
‘What? I could have said, “still daydreaming about Cillian’s quivering member”.’
