want to know because she knew she’d be tempted to do just as he’d asked. But either way her heart would break. She had to choose between him and her mother. And the bottom line was that her mother had been there her entire life while Carl had been in it only a short time. She couldn’t leave her mom — it wasn’t an option.
They were silent as he read her body language, read the refusal in her eyes. She knew the moment he was aware she wouldn’t go. His shoulders slumped. He finished his beer in a few pulls, set it down, then leaned back against the couch. She drained her glass, the buzz giving her just enough relief to do what she truly wanted to do.
She set down her glass, unwound her legs, then straddled his lap. Their eyes locked, hers filled with sorrow, his with regret and surprise.
“Love me for tonight,” she said. She leaned down and kissed him, a whispering of lips that was gentle and filled with pain and love. She was telling him without words what he meant to her. It only took a couple of seconds for his arms to wrap around her, his fingers climbing into her hair as he held her close. They kissed for long, agonizing, beautiful minutes before she leaned back again.
“I want you to make love to me like it’s our last time, and then I want to wake up and find you gone. I can’t have you here in the morning. I can’t take it,” she begged.
“Avery, I can’t do that,” he said.
“Please, I need this. If you have any feelings at all for me, then you’ll do this,” she said, those damn tears finally filling and spilling over, dripping down her cheeks and over her chin, landing on his shirt.
He reached up, gently wiping them away before cupping her cheek. He didn’t say a word, but he nodded. He stood, cradling her in his arms, then moved down the hallway, easily finding her small room.
He moved inside and gently set her on the bed, gazing at her as if he was trying to keep a snapshot in his mind. She did the same with him. She wondered if it was better to know it was your last night with the man you loved, or worse. She was getting a goodbye, but the pain was excruciating.
She sat and watched as he stripped away his clothes, revealing his beautiful body to her in agonizing slowness.
“Oh, you are a masterpiece,” she said with a sigh.
He smiled at her, but again, there was no true joy in the expression. “You, my darling, are the masterpiece,” he corrected after all of his clothes were off. He pulled her back to her feet and into his arms. He gave her another long, slow, aching kiss before reaching for the buttons on her pajama top. He undid them one by one, the back of his fingers grazing her skin, heating her, waking her up.
He parted the shirt, then pushed it from her shoulders before tracing his hand down her chest, his fingers grazing her nipples, circling back, pinching them, then holding the weight of her breasts in his hands.
“Absolutely breathtaking,” he sighed, before bending and taking a hard nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking it until she was putty in his hands.
Then he pushed down her pants, and she kicked them away, sighing with pleasure as he pulled her back to him, nothing between their hot skin now. He kissed her again, this time more urgently. She reached up, holding on tight as her tongue danced with his.
When he pulled back, they were both panting, their eyes dilated, their bodies ready for each other. She looked away, feeling shy as she spoke her next words.
“I’m . . . um . . . I have an IUD if you don’t want to . . . um . . . use a condom,” she finally stuttered, horrified at how she was speaking. Her entire life depended on the way she communicated.
“I very, very, very much don’t want to use a condom,” he said, pulling her to him again and kissing her harder. She squirmed against him as her sadness dissipated and lust took over. She pushed against his straining erection.
He moved, and the two of them fell onto the bed, their mouths crashing together as their hands caressed each other. She couldn’t get enough of him. He ripped his mouth from hers and began