Bro code, p.10
Bro Code, page 10
“I meant it, Barrett.” Ava moans into our next kiss as I strip off my jacket, her hands working my shirt open, button by button, “I want all of you tonight.”
“You'll have to work for it,” I pant back, finding where her dress unzips and pulling down until the fabric is pooled around her hips.
“That's true with everything good, isn't it?” she quips, letting out a breathy gasp as I kiss down the line of her jaw, past her collarbone to the swell of her breasts.
My teeth scrape over smooth skin as I catch one of the straps of her bra, tugging it loose and down one shoulder. I don't even have the patience to find the clasp, because I simply need more bare skin, more of her. I use my hands to yank the tangled sheath of Ava's dress down her hips, letting it fall to her ankles before she kicks it away, losing a heel in the process.
I focus on her breasts, teasing both hard nipples with my lips and tongue while she shivers against me, hands fumbling to work open the buckle of my belt. It takes another firm tug to get my pants past the bulge of my cock but I deny Ava the chance to free it from my boxers by sinking down to my knees in front of her.
“Barrett, I swear to God…” she starts.
“If you want it, this comes first,” I insist, pushing my fingers underneath the lace band of her panties.
Pushing them aside bares her to me, and I kiss her there lightly before burying my face between her thighs. She gasps sharply, one hand shifting to grasp my hair, and I don't stop licking and sucking until she's writhing and trembling against my mouth.
The next time she moans my name, I look up to meet her eyes, needing to see exactly what I'm doing to her, and Ava tugs me up toward her for a kiss.
I rise to my feet, and as we kiss, hot pulls of her tongue against mine, one of her hands explores my abs and the other pushes down my boxers.
She breaks the kiss just long enough to look at me, desperate desire burning in her gaze as she sees me hard and ready.
For a moment, she just stares, taking me all in, and I swear I feel her gaze like an actual caress, all the way from the tip of my sensitive head down to my balls.
“Don't hold back,” she demands, “not this time.”
If I was going to hold back, I never would have come up to her room. I would have never let her touch me. The moment I feel her small hand curl around my shaft, I'm done for.
She gives an experimental stroke, testing the weight of me in her hand.
I swallow and look down to where she cradles me.
Fuck.
Wrong move.
It's so erotic, the sight of me getting worked over by Ava—fuckin’ Ava, every off-limit, forbidden and taboo fantasy I've ever had. It's happening right now.
“Use both hands,” I say, the words like gravel in my throat.
She licks her lips, determined, and starts stroking me in firmer strokes now, using both hands.
Having her hands on me is even better than I ever imagined. I could die a happy man right now. But the night's not over, not by a long shot.
Chapter Fifteen
Ava
“Ava—” Barrett groans, his hands pushing into his hair as my palm slides up and along the full, glorious length of him.
I press my other hand against his chest, and silence him with a deep kiss that holds everything I feel for him.
Trust.
Admiration.
Respect.
His hand slides around my ass and tightens, his fingers digging into my flesh. My heartbeat is hot and fast, pumping out a frenzied rhythm.
I didn’t even know it could be like this.
Before I can lose my bravado, I angle my head near his ear and murmur, “I’m tired of your hands-off rule. Will you let me return the favor?”
“What do you want, Ava?” His eyes meet mine. “Let me hear you say it.”
The rough growl of his voice makes me shiver.
“You. In my mouth.”
“Fuck.” He kisses me hard and lets his hands trail over the swell of my hip, around the curve of my breast, and up to tangle in my hair.
I kiss his neck, nip at the vein where his pulse races as fast as mine, and then my knees hit the carpet. If you’d asked me a month ago whether I’d get excited about going down on a guy, I’d have rolled my eyes and said bitch, please. But right now, I can't think of anything I want more.
I run my palms over his hard thighs and press my lips to the vee of muscle that points toward the main event.
His dick twitches and I lick my lips. Starting at the base, I give soft, sucking nibbles up the silky hard shaft. Encouraged by his ragged breathing, I grip him and flick my tongue along the taut skin. I smile as he throbs, swelling even larger.
He groans my name when I finally take him in my mouth.
All weekend he'd amazed me with his self-control, pleasuring me and taking none for himself. It'd been maddening. But I get it now. Watching someone else come undone is really freaking hot.
I tighten my grip and take as much of him as I can handle, painstakingly slow. I concentrate on the little sounds, the changes in his breathing.
His hand tightens in my hair and heat spreads between my legs.
Barrett gives a half-suppressed moan, and I glance up, expecting to see him watching me. But his head is turned, his mouth hanging slightly open and his chest is heaving. I draw back and follow his gaze. His stormy blue eyes meet mine in the full-length mirror across the room.
I start moving my hand again, watching his face intently. Barrett's eyes flicker downward. It’s safe to say I’ve never seen myself the way I look right now. A handful of enormous, man-god, lips swollen, cheeks pink, hair a mess, and ass bare in a lacy thong. Still holding his gaze, I cup my breast, squeezing one pink nipple between two fingers.
He moans again. “Dammit, Ava. If you keep doing that, I’ll—”
With a wicked grin, I slide my free hand down my stomach and under the lace.
Whatever he was about to say evaporates. My hand and mouth work together, a slow glide at first and then faster. Every sound he makes turns me on more. My tongue flicks over the tip before I suck him in again.
“Baby. Gonna come…” His voice is so tight, it sends tingles shooting straight down my spine, causing every muscle south of my bellybutton to clench down—hard.
He strokes my cheek, watching me with wonder. “Where do you want it?”
I don't answer, but I'm ready when he tries to pull my head away, and as his hips buck forward, I keep my mouth sealed around him, and hold him there until his spasms finish.
“Oh, God, Ava. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to . . . fuck.”
I swallow and giggle, and he hauls me up for a quick kiss.
“Get ready,” he says.
“For what? Oh!”
He scoops my legs out from under me, strides to the bed, and tosses me on its pillowy surface.
“For everything I can think of.”
Chapter Sixteen
Barrett
I join Ava on the bed, and we lie side by side, our heads close, resting on the same pillow and our lips almost touching. I can't help my hands from exploring right now. For once we're not in a car, or her parents’ den, where there was no time to linger. Her breasts are soft and warm in my hands, and when I stroke between her thighs, I find her soaking wet.
She begins her slow torture again, jacking me up and down in steady motions. I could let her do this all night, watching the gentle sway of her breasts as she works, feeling the pleasure shoot straight through my spine, pooling low.
“You sure you're ready?” I ask.
She nods, her lips brushing mine. “I couldn't live the rest of my life without knowing how you felt. How you move.”
Pleasure snaps through me, and I take another deep breath.
I feel the exact same way. Except forget living the rest of my life, I can't live one more heartbeat without feeling her.
“I have condoms,” she says, halting her motions. “In my purse…”
I give my head a gentle shake. “They won't fit.”
Call it a blessing or a curse, but I have to special order my condoms from a website that sells size XXL. Ava, of course wouldn't have known that. Rising from the bed, I find my pants and pull out a couple of condoms from my pocket, tossing them onto the bed. Even in the dimly lit room, the black foil wrappers stand in stark contrast to the white duvet.
She rises up on her knees, her eyes dark with lust as she watches me tear open a foil packet with my teeth and draw out the condom, wrestling it onto my hard-on with ease.
I rejoin her on the bed, in our previous position, side by side. I've thought about this moment, way more than I probably should have, and determined this would be the best position for us. In missionary, I could thrust too deep, and in girl-on-top she could impale herself too far down on my shaft, bruising her deep inside. The last thing I want to do is hurt her.
Her eyes are on mine, and she's biting her lip, looking more vulnerable than ever.
“You have no idea how badly I've wanted this,” I admit, gritting my teeth as I watch her stroke her fingernails along the ridges and dips in my defined abs.
Placing my hand against the back of her knee, I lift her thigh, opening her, and place it over my hip.
Fitting the head of my cock to her entrance is enough to unravel another thread of self-control. But rather than bury myself balls-deep in her tight heat, I guide myself back and forth, rubbing against her slick heat, and earning me more of those pleasure-filled whimpers that I love.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask.
Ava rolls her eyes playfully. “Don't make me slap you.”
With the first slow push forward, I can feel how unbelievably tight she is, and have to suck in a hard breath between my teeth. She needs time to relax around me, even if neither of us wants to wait.
“Still with me?” I whisper, fighting for control.
“You feel even bigger than you look,” she confesses with a soft whimper, spreading her legs even wider to welcome me in.
“I promise I'll take care of you,” I whisper, sinking inside inch by desperately slow inch. “I'll make it feel so good, Ava.”
Words escape her for a moment, and she answers with a nod, nails biting into my abs while I ease into that hot, unrelenting tightness. She feels perfect, but it's not until I'm settled completely inside her that I even think of moving. I kiss her, again and again, and slowly roll my hips, wanting her to feel exactly how deep I am now.
“Barrett...” she says my name in the sexiest, throatiest growl I've ever heard her make.
How am I supposed to think when she whispers my name like a prayer?
“You'll tell me if it hurts?” I groan, feeling delirious and drunk on her already.
Her head gives a tight nod. She looks like she's concentrating. On accepting me, I'd guess.
Bringing one hand between us, I place my thumb on her slick clit, rubbing it in gentle circles as my cock stays buried deep inside the tightest, sweetest heat I've ever felt.
She groans, and her body bucks toward mine.
“If it hurts, I'll tell you. But I need, I have to feel you move…”
I start out with an even rhythm, controlled and deliberate despite every instinct inside me clamoring for more, and Ava's answering moan is a symphony to my ears. Her hands slide up to my pecs, framing the muscles there, and cling tight against my skin as I build the pace. My eyes stay locked on hers between kisses, watching for any sign of discomfort, but all I see is a quickening ecstasy, one that makes me pulse with need.
I've never felt anything better in all my life, and in an instant, I know she's immediately ruined me for other women. Because everything about her is different from her mind, to her humor, to the way she touches me. Despite the need to come, I want to make this good for her, so I fuck her like that for a long time, stroking her inner walls in a deliberate rhythm, again and again.
It's perfection.
“I'm going to come soon,” I admit, even though I don't want her to know she's shattered my stamina.
“Faster,” Ava gasps against my mouth, “I'm getting close.”
I can feel it with every wave of tightness around my shaft, but she's so wet now that I’m hellbent on giving her exactly what she wants. Capturing her mouth in another deep kiss, I work my hand between our bodies again, hips pumping quick as I find the swell of her clit again, now even more swollen. She lets out a short cry, the noise driving me mad with desire, and it's impossible to keep control anymore when she's making sounds like that.
She comes with a moan of my name that echoes to the ceiling, her nails biting into my chest, and that hot spark of sensation pushes me right over the edge. I lose myself in that orgasm, so much perfect heat milking me to the very last drop as she keeps tightening around me, trying to draw me back in.
“Holy shit, Ava...” I catch my breath in the afterglow, when we're curled up in the center of the bed together. At some point, we manage to disentangle, moving to place our heads on separate pillows, but still watching each other. “I told myself we'd never go this far. Promised myself I wouldn't...”
She laughs, and I can't really blame her. That boundary's well and broken. My cock rests heavily against my belly, still damp with her arousal.
“Guess you should have kept that promise to yourself then.”
“Maybe I should have.” I bite my tongue, wrestling with the inevitable. “Are you sure it doesn’t bother you that I'm leaving tomorrow?”
There's a beat of silence, but she shakes her head. “I'm a sensible girl, I knew this was temporary.”
It's not really an answer, and for a moment, the quiet stretches on as I try to figure out what to say. I knew this from the start, that even if anything happened, tomorrow is where it stopped. It's the only thing that makes sense with our lives, with the futures we have planned ahead.
So why does it sting deep inside my chest to hear her verbalize that? Was I expecting her to ask me to stay, or to try something long-distance? A pit settles inside my stomach as the silence stretches on around us.
She gently yawns, and I take that as a sign to head to the bathroom, where I ditch the condom and wash up. When I return to the bedroom, she's already asleep, curled on her side, her face still resting on the pillow, facing where I laid. If she was still awake, I wonder if we'd swap stories about obscure world mysteries or the mating rituals of mammals. It makes me sad to think we won't swap stories like that again.
I pull the duvet comforter over her, and slip in beside her, enjoying this last moment I'll get with her.
The thought of leaving in the morning is a somber one, but it's the only decision I can make.
I'll wake up early and slip out before she's even up. That way there won't be any awkward goodbyes, and we can go on with our lives.
That was always the plan anyway.
Chapter Seventeen
Ava
Lately, it seems like there’s a big difference between what I say and what I mean.
I said I wouldn’t let things go beyond talking with Barrett, but apparently that meant talking him into bed with me. I couldn’t resist a shot at deliciously forbidden sex and half-a-dozen, life-changing orgasms with the man I’ve lusted after since before I knew what lust was.
I said I wouldn’t get attached. I’d kiss him goodbye and then send him back to Chicago, no harm, no foul. Hell, two nights ago, I looked at him, his perfectly sculpted figure lying completely naked in my hotel bed after a night of mind-blowing sex that exceeded any wild dream I had of how good it would be, of how good he would feel…I looked at him and said it didn’t bother me that he was leaving. I said things would go right back to normal once he was gone. Apparently what I meant was that I would spend the whole next morning feeling empty, staring at the door, and hoping he’d come right back to me.
It seems so ridiculous, he was only here for a few days. Most of which he spent teasing me right in front of my family. It was practically torture while he was here, but now that he’s gone, what I wouldn’t give for that smug grin to be tempting every ounce of self-control in me. Every logical bone in my body knows that it’s stupid to be hung up on something I knew from the start wasn’t built to last, but for once, I want to ignore what’s logical and go for what I really want.
“Hello, Ava? Anyone home?”
I blink back into reality to find my mother trying to get my attention from across the table, waving her hands slowly through the air.
“Hi, sorry,” I grumble, taking another sip of coffee. “Guess I’m not quite awake yet.”
From the way she furrows her brow, it’s obvious that Mom isn’t buying that. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asks, pulling out the chair next to mine and settling in. I’m definitely not in the mood to talk, but that’s never stopped her before.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just worn out from the weekend.” Suddenly, I’m deeply interested in my cuticles. Fascinating little things. Or maybe it's just that I don't want Mom to see what's really on my mind.
“Well, as long as you're here, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
I roll my shoulders back and brace myself. “What’s going on, Mom?”
“Well,” she sighs, “it’s about the factory.”
I’m uncertain whether I’m relieved that we’re not about to talk about Barrett or exhausted to be having yet another conversation about this.
“There’s nothing to talk about with the factory, Mom.” I scoot my chair back to get up in a last-ditch effort to dodge this topic, but she lays her hand over mine, squeezing tight.
“Ava, please. Just listen for a minute.”
How can I say no to my own mother?
I sit back down.
“First, we’re really proud of you for coming and filling your father’s shoes. Really. But I’ve been giving it some thought and the whole thing is really unfair to you. You shouldn’t be living here with us and putting your life on hold just for the sake of a factory that would probably be worth more if you just sold it.”
I let out a groan that’s been building in the back of my throat since she sat down. “Mom, not you too. You’ve been talking to Nick, haven’t you?”
