Jason pulled into his driveway.
Ava crossed her arms. “This is your place.”
“Make the best midnight breakfast in town.”
She paused. “I—”
“Come on.” He put his hand on her knee and felt her trembling under his touch. “I make a mean omelet. And I promise, nothing will happen unless you want it to.” He opened his car door.
“That is the problem,” she muttered as she climbed out.
He bet she didn’t mean for him to hear that, which only intrigued him more. It was obvious she held back, but he didn’t know why.
He escorted her into the little bungalow he’d bought a few years back, and paused to deactivate the security system.
She froze, eyes wide as the alarm beeped until he entered the final sequence. Then she let out a breath.
“Don’t like security?” Jason asked.
“Don’t like the beeps.”
He smirked. “No security system for you.”
“A dog works fine,” Ava replied.
He nodded. “Usually, they do.” He slapped his hands together. “Breakfast.” His own stomach growled at the prospect. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he started heading this way, and the prospect of good, decent food watered his mouth.
Ava followed him into the kitchen. He immediately got out all the fixings for an awesome omelet.
“Wow, what a kitchen,” Ava said.
Jason glanced at his surroundings and realized they probably did look impressive. Double ovens, six-burner stove and a huge fridge.
“You really like to cook,” Ava said as she took a seat across from him at the island.
“One of my favorite things.” He started chopping the vegetables.
“What else?” Ava asked.
“What?”
“Favorite things?” She picked up a green pepper chunk and ate it.
“Cooking.”
“That’s your only favorite thing?” She took his tie out of her hair and removed the tux jacket.
Jason forced himself not to look at her boobs. It was hard. “Nope.”
“So what else?” She folded the tie and fiddled with it after she laid it on the island.
He watched the way her long fingers straightened the tie over and over on the counter. Then he met her gaze.
“Guess.”
A smile stretched over her face, and a sparkle gleamed in her eyes. “Racquetball?”
“Nope.”
“High jump?”
“Not even close.” He smirked as he grabbed the onions to chop.
“Making pornos?”
The tension he’d felt from the moment she’d gotten in the car exploded. His pants got tight.
“C-c-closer,” he replied, hung up on the word, and tried to shake off the fact that he’d stuttered. He hoped she didn’t notice—it made him sound like such a fucking idiot. He half expected to see her grimace or, worse, give him that sympathetic, oh-you-stutter, poor-baby look.
If she did, well, he’d take her home.
Now.
So when he looked at her, with her lips parted, her eyelids drooping and hair falling forward, he about choked. There was no pity look on her face. It was lust. Plain and simple. He could just see the tops of her breasts as she rested her elbows on the island and leaned forward.
Good God, he thought.
The tension rocketed between them. At the club, he’d barely been able to keep his hands off her.
Now, he was ready to throw her on the island and screw her brains out.
“You like making movies?” she whispered, her voice husky.
“W-w-without the camera.”
She gulped.
Ava let out a peel of laughter, almost spilling her bourbon. They’d eaten their omelets, and he’d poured them both a glass of bourbon. They’d moved from his industrial kitchen into the living room, and while Jason could tell that Ava’s attraction mirrored his, she obviously was nervous, so they were just talking.
Regardless that he wanted to lay her back on the couch and have his way with her.
Jason sipped on his drink. “I swear, it’s God’s honest truth.”
Ava shook her head. “And the coach believed you?”
Jason shrugged. “Hey, I was a v-v-varsity wrestler. She was a wrestling manager. We had every reason to be in the guys’ locker room together.” He cringed at his stutter, but Ava didn’t say anything.
Maybe she doesn’t notice it?
The ornery look on her face pulled him from his thoughts. “Naked?” she asked, eyebrow raised.
“Wrestlers weigh in naked all the time.”
She smirked. “You, sir, are naughty.”
Jason raised his eyebrow. “Haven’t you ever been naughty?”
“Sure,” she replied.
“I told you mine.”
She adjusted her grip on the glass, lacing her fingers together, covering the tumbler. “Let me see.”
“You have to think about it?”
“My conscience isn’t as guilty as yours.”
“I’m n-n-not guilty.” He sighed, frustrated.
“Sure you’re not.” She took a drink, then met his gaze, a sparkle shining in her eyes. “Okay. There was this one time, back in my younger days, when I was supposed to be gathering berries, and the stableboy—”
“You had a stableboy?”
She blinked, frozen for a second, like she didn’t understand the question.
“Were you rich or something?”
She shook her head. “No. Not at all. My family worked at an estate. I helped in the kitchen.”
“Oh. Go on.” He took another sip of his drink.
“Well, I’d gotten an apronful of berries—blackberries, I think—and ran back to the barn to get a basket because I knew what I had wasn’t enough. Anyway the…uh…”
“Stableboy.”
She smirked again. “Yes. He grabbed me, smashed me against him and started kissing me.”
The idea of smashing her against him certainly held promise. “Yes?”
“Well, we were smashed together. So were the berries. I was covered in juice stains after we tussled in the hay. Which could have been explained away, really. Except he had the same stains all over his clothing.”
Jason burst out laughing.
“Even worse? My father caught us!”
“Oh no, that’s never good.”
Ava laughed. “No, it wasn’t. I was shipped off after that to stay with my aunt—to tame my wildness.”
Jason paused, his drink hovering near his lips. “Did it?”
“Nope. Just taught me how to channel it better.”
“And that would be?”
“Regular sex.”
“You have no filter, do you?”
“I do too,” she replied. “You’d be surprised what I don’t say.”
He shook his head, set down his glass and put his hand on hers.
Perhaps her lack of filter will explain…
“Why did you leave Saturday?” Every detail had come back about that night, and he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten even a moment. Just remembering…
Against the van.
It sent a new wash of desire through him. Between that and tonight’s “pretend” encounters, he was wound tight, desire burning. All he wanted to do was…
Yeah. That.
Her cheeks blushed under the low light in the living room, and she leaned forward, setting her own glass beside his before responding. “We’d just met. It didn’t seem right to—”
“To come home with me?”
“Exactly.”
“You didn’t give me your number. Or get mine.”
She nodded.
A thought came to Jason. “You’re in a r-r-relationship with that guy.”
She furrowed her brow. “What guy?”
“That guy from the wedding.”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth formed a little O as she leaned back. She pulled her hands away and waved them in the air. “No. Oh no. Absolutely not. In fact, the next time I see him, I may punch him.”
Jason smirked at the fire in her eyes. “I’d be happy to do it for you.”
She laughed. “You’re pretty great.”
“I’ve heard that.”
She laughed again. “And so modest.”
“Well, I d-d-do what I can.” He grimaced.
Ava tipped her head to the side. “What’s with the stutter?”
Jason froze, unsure how to answer. For most of his life, he’d been patronized—or worse, pitied—because of the stumble in his words, but he’d never actually just been asked.
It was both unnerving and refreshing.
“Always done it,” he said, not looking at her. “Though it’s b-been worse lately.”
“Stress?” Ava asked.
He shrugged. “Sort of. It’s my brain. Can’t get out what I want to say. I get excited or passionate, and stumble. It’s there. In my head.” He paused, feeling another stutter coming on. After swallowing, he continued, “But my mouth can’t make the words.”
“I assume you’ve been to speech therapists about it?”
He shrugged. “Aside from elementary school, not really. My dad does it. Mom never seemed to mind. So I never minded,” he lied.
“Then why aren’t you looking me in the eye, telling me this?” Ava asked.
He snapped his gaze back to hers. “Would you t-t-take a c-c-cop seriously if he st-st-stuttered when reading your rights?” His voice rose.
“It’s okay, Jason. I get it. Don’t yell at me.”
“I wasn’t yelling.”
“You were trying.” She took his hand and scooted in closer. “I get it, I do. A big guy like you, with a speech impediment—”
“Shut up, Ava.” Jason grabbed her by the back of the neck, and jerked her into a kiss. A hard, fast and very hot kiss.
She groaned against him, her hands on his chest. His head rocked back and forth, and the little noises she made only egged him on.
Her hands clenched his shirt, and with more force than he expected, she pushed him back.
“You don’t have to prove your masculinity to me,” she said.
“I wasn’t—”
“Really?”
He bristled. Pissed that she’d called him out. Even more pissed he was that transparent.
She wrapped an arm around him. “Listen, I still think you’re very attractive. Sexy as hell, really. And I think it makes you even sexier, since you do stutter a little.”
“H-how?”
“Makes you more human. Everyone has something.”
“What’s yours?”
She looked at the floor and let out a sigh. “Falling for the wrong guy.”
“So what am I?” Jason asked.
“The wrong guy. Completely and totally the wrong guy.”