Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Avery leads the way, walking back to the kitchen in front of me, and I put a soft hand to the small of her back to guide her there. She smiles and waves at dozens of people on the way—all of whom have been friends of her family for years—and I jerk my chin when it’s someone I recognize too.
Bottles of prosecco are lined up on the counter by the sink, so I skirt by to pour her a glass and then come back to join her by the kitchen island. It’s crowded, though, and I feel surprisingly claustrophobic.
“Let’s go out back,” she suggests, obviously feeling the same way.
“Good idea.”
Music pounds softly from the patio speakers, but the overall din of noise is much more tolerable. I find a spot to stand in the corner by the built-in grill, leaning my hip into the counter and inviting Avery to stand in front of me.
She leans in close, always flirting, no matter the occasion.
“Ave,” I say in warning, knowing the last time we got this close to each other, it ended in a kiss.
She laughs. “What?” Her smile is coy. “Relax, Henny.” It’s a silly nickname she’s used in the past to annoy me, but for some reason, right now, my body tightens at the sound of it. “We’re just talking.”
“Uh-huh,” I reply, a grin of my own settling into one corner of my mouth. She’s hard to resist; I’ll give her that. “And what exactly are we talking about?”
“Life. Lust. Louboutins. You tell me.”
I chuckle. “How about work? How’s it feel to be out of college and officially in the workforce?”
She frowns, pouting. “Everything I said was fun. Why’d you have to go and ruin it with words like work and workforce? Ugh. Yuck.”
I sigh with humor, leaning my head back a little and closing my eyes slightly.
But when I open them again, Avery’s lips are on mine.
I resist, though, admittedly, it’s hard, pushing her back slightly until our breath mingles and our mouths are an inch or two apart. “What are you doing, Ave?”
“Kissing,” she says simply, swaying toward me and enveloping me in the scent of roses.
“You kiss everyone,” I say, repeating what she told me at Allure just weeks ago.
She shakes her head and gets closer, her lips brushing mine again as she speaks. “Not tonight.” She bites at my bottom lip, and my whole body spikes into a rolling tingle.
“Avery.” It’s a whisper. A plea. I don’t know for what, but she makes her own conclusions.
“Right now, I only want to kiss you.”
I close the distance this time, taking her mouth with mine and melding the front of her body to my own. She tastes like prosecco and trouble, and apparently, I really fucking like both.
On instinct, my hands find her hips, and I pull her body flush against me. Our lips caress and our tongues dance, and I get lost in the moment as everything around us fades away.
The kiss goes on and on, a perfect loop of heat and hunger, with no clear beginning and no foreseeable end. The only thing keeping me from losing myself completely is the cold, unyielding counter pressed against my back.
And then, just as suddenly as she started it, Avery pulls away.
She’s breathless, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed. But it’s her eyes that stop me cold—wide, unfocused, different. Like she’s just realized something big.
Her usual flirtatious, teasing smile? Gone. And with it, every bit of certainty I’ve ever had about anything.
She stares at me for half a second—long enough to make my heart slam against my ribs—then spins on her heel and disappears back into the house.
I don’t chase her. I can’t.
Instead, I just stand there, staring after her like an idiot, my pulse pounding in my ears.
What the fuck was that?
That wasn’t just a kiss. That was something else entirely.
That was a whole new fucking world.
And for some reason, I get the sinking fucking feeling Avery Banks is never, ever going to let it happen again.
Avery
“I’ve spent years resisting this, Avery. Resisting you. But fuck, I can’t do it anymore.”
The words barely leave Henry’s lips before he yanks me tighter against him, his grip on my hips firm and possessive. My back bows as he pulls us closer together, the hot centers of our laps matching up right along with our chests.
My breath comes in pants as the reality that I’ve finally convinced him hits me, and my head swims with the imaginings of what happens from here. Henry’s blue eyes burn a hundred degrees hotter than usual, and, considering he’s a man with a smolder that could already kill, that’s really saying something.
The heat. The tension. The unrelenting, pulsing need that’s been burning between us for years. All of it is undeniable now.
There’s no stopping this.
“You can change your mind.” His voice drops, low and steady, a whisper of raw, unshakable resolve.