Somehow she managed to push through until she found just the right rhythm to match the squeak of the bedsprings in the other room. In her fantasy, Trey had Magnus bent over, and he was impaling him from behind, driving into him, his hands gripping his hips, holding him still while he pleasured them both. She closed her eyes, and the image shifted a little, showing her lying with Magnus’s shoulders between her thighs, his tongue sliding over her clit.
She whimpered and moaned, not caring because she knew they couldn’t hear her over the ruckus they were making. She wanted to come. No, sheneededto come. Each day the pressure continued to build, and she knew one day she would explode from it.
Unfortunately, relief didn’t come, no matter how much she rubbed herself. She couldn’t orgasm from her hand. Hell, she wasn’t sure she could orgasm at all. She’d learned to fake it like a porn star, though. It was the only way to get Harrison off her in the beginning. Then it had simply become a means to an end. He had never cared whether she orgasmed or not, but she soon learned that if he thought she did, it would tip him over the edge, and she could be done with him.
Her hand stilled when she heard Trey’s garbled shout. He was coming, and she was envious. Not only that he could, but also because she wished she was in that room with them.
Ava shook her head and stared at the ceiling. It was definitely time to make that therapy appointment.
***
After Trey left, Magnus took another shower. This one was quick and cold, doing little to cool him off. He was still reeling from Trey, his body throbbing with the need to come, something he hadn’t done because Trey hadn’t been focused on Magnus at that point. He’d had one goal in mind, and he’d succeeded.
If Magnus had thought for one second that they might be able to get back to where they were, that moment had sealed it for him. Trey was likely the most generous lover Magnus had ever had, but today he’d been too far gone to care.
It didn’t matter that Magnus had come shortly before in the shower while he let his fantasy of Ava and Trey play in his mind. That felt like eons ago. He’d needed Trey. He still did.
Once he was done, he pulled on a pair of shorts and left his bedroom. He peeked out the back window, checking to see if Trey’s truck was still there. It wasn’t. He’d known it wouldn’t be, but a guy could fucking hope, couldn’t he?
Magnus went to the living room, intending to ask Ava if she wanted something for dinner, but she wasn’t there. Her door was shut, but it was always shut, didn’t matter if she was in there or not.
They needed to talk about what she had witnessed earlier. He hadn’t realized she was in his bathroom until it was too late and he’d whispered her name and Trey’s seconds before he exploded. He wanted to explain to her that he would never do anything she didn’t want. That it was only a fantasy. The last thing Magnus wanted was for her to be scared of him. She’d spent years with a man who took what he wanted because he thought he was due. Magnus would never hurt her like that. Regardless of how much of a temptation she was.
He stopped outside her door and tapped lightly. If she were awake, maybe she would acknowledge him.
When she didn’t answer, he sighed and returned to the kitchen. He made himself a sandwich, scarfed it down standing up, and then grabbed a bottle of water before heading to the living room. He turned on the television and got settled in the spot Ava had occupied for the past four months. He could smell her on the cushions. Her sweet strawberry scent seemed to be everywhere in the house these days. He hadn’t realized how much that unique scent soothed him.
Magnus tried to relax, flipping through channels until he found a rerun of NCIS. At the very least, he could find satisfaction in looking at Mark Harmon. There was something insanely sexy about the older man. He watched for a few minutes, and when his eyes became too heavy to keep open, he closed them and drifted off.
Sometime later, he jolted awake, jumping to his feet when Ava’s terrified scream pierced the air.
His mind had become accustomed to the sound of her nightmares, instantly shattering the dregs of sleep. He hurried down the hallway to her bedroom and opened the door. She was on the twin bed, thrashing around as she screamed and pleaded with the monster who plagued her dreams.
“Ava. Wake up, Ava,” he said, brushing her arm lightly. He’d learned not to startle her awake because it only made it worse. He continued to call her name until she settled, her eyes finally opening as she looked around.
“You’re safe,” he assured her, sitting on the edge of her bed, ensuring he wasn’t touching her. “It was just a nightmare.”
“I know,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
He wanted to hold her, but he refrained. Magnus was careful with Ava, never wanting to make her feel as though he was pushing himself on her. He always waited until she instigated it before he would put his arms around her.
“Can I get you anything? Water? Milk?”
“No, thank you.”
“Do you want me to go?”
Her face was in shadow, only a hint of light coming into the room from the hallway, so he couldn’t see her eyes clearly.
“Would you stay with me? In the living room?”
“Of course.” Magnus got to his feet and headed for the door, waiting for her to follow.
He let her pass, then pulled her door closed and followed.
As they had many times over the months, Magnus got situated on the couch, lying down with his back against the rear cushions, leaving enough room for her to lie in front of him. When she settled, and he was spooned around her, his arm beneath her head, the other draped over her narrow waist, he pulled her back against him, offering his warmth. It wasn’t much, and he knew it wouldn’t eradicate the demons that haunted her, but it usually brought her some peace. Enough that she could sleep for a few hours.
