“It was clear they’d never had to eat peanut-butter sandwiches. Apparently, Dad was a banker. He left everything to his real family, and the only thing Sondra and Elle cared about was keeping his dirty little secret hushed up to save face.”
“I’m sorry, Ava. I’m so sorry.” He’s squeezing my hand gently, but tension is twisting his face. “God, I don’t know how you can give me another chance after an experience like that. You must’ve hated me when you said I was treating you as a ‘dirty little secret.’”
I shake my head. “I didn’t hate you, Lucas. I…I just didn’t believe we could be together. I know about your family. How wealthy and important they are.”
“The rich part is right, but they aren’t important.” His dark gaze meets mine directly. Its intensity is like a snare, impossible to pull away from. “Nobody is as important as you,” he says.
I take his hand and lay my forehead on it. But it isn’t enough. I need a deeper connection with him. “Do you think they’d mind if we left now?” I murmur.
“I would mind,” Lucas says. “I want you well-fed, well-cared for. You can’t possibly understand how much I want to take care of you.”
My lips curve into a smile. He doesn’t understand how irresistible he is when he speaks like this, how easily he can cut through all the protective layers I have and reach into my heart.
It doesn’t matter what I told myself two years ago…or since. I’m still in love with this man. This sweet and generous side is what I saw first in him—with me and with Mrs. Ling. He quietly loaned them some money—interest-free—so they could get through the year, and he paid off the lease on my apartment so I wouldn’t be evicted after two of my roommates were arrested and expelled from the university for selling prescription drugs. The only reason I found out is because the landlord slipped up, not because Lucas ever wanted to take credit. He loathed talking about his own good deeds.
And that’s not all. I found more and more little things he’d done to help out. And that selfless generosity…it really touched me. It felt so good to have somebody watching over me for once. Like I mattered.
“Why don’t we compromise?” he offers. “After we eat, I’ll give you everything you want.”
“That doesn’t seem like much of a compromise, horny Neanderthal,” I tease.
“But it is, Ava,” he purrs. “I plan to make you come as many times as you want…and then some more, but only after you finish your dinner.”
I smile and lean over the table to kiss him on the mouth. “Deal.”
Chapter Nineteen
Lucas
I’m sure the proprietor of the restaurant would be horrified if I said I’m not really noticing the food that much.
I have the feeling it’s pretty good—there’s no urge to spit it out or anything—but I’m riveted by Ava, her obvious enjoyment, the way she licks her lips and laughs at the jokes I make. My body’s hot and hard, and I feel my blood heat as we get closer to the inevitable conclusion of the night, but I try not to let it color my interaction with her. My need for Ava isn’t just sexual. It’s…everything.
As annoying as Bennie was, I’m grateful he made me probe about her background. Otherwise I might’ve never known.
You didn’t want to know.
That’s true enough. When I first met Ava, the last thing I wanted was to become overly entangled. Even as I craved her, I fought against feeling too much for her—that would’ve only ended in utter disaster…or so I told myself.
What a fool I was. I missed out on discovering a lot of Ava’s most critical aspects. If I’d known back then… Well, I’m not sure precisely what I would have done…but I would’ve acted differently.
My patience is slowly running out as we approach the dessert, but I ignore the lust bubbling in my blood. It’s only one more course, and Ava deserves to enjoy everything.
She spoons the sweet custard paired with rich vanilla and chocolate ice cream. “This is so good,” she moans as she licks the spoon clean off, her pink tongue flickering.
Jesus.
My dick engorges further as I imagine her licking it the same way. I have to remind myself she’s just pleased with the dessert. I have no idea how it tastes; every cell in my body is incapable of processing anything but her—her presence, her scent, her smile, her warm gaze.
Long, thick eyelashes lowered, she spoons another bite. A lovely flush colors her cheeks. When she lifts her gaze, I see the want seething beneath those ice blue eyes.
“Are you really going to make me finish dessert?” She ends her question with a slow smile.
I toss my spoon on the table. “No. We can have a private dessert.”
“Finally!”
I hand my credit card to the waitress, and as soon as we pay our bill we’re out of the restaurant. It’s a bit chilly outside, the wind nipping. I take off my jacket and drape it around Ava’s shoulders.