Chapter 10
Avery
Maddox Bryant is even more of an asshole than I had originally thought. And that’s saying something.
I go over the evidence, again. For the thousandth time this week.
1. He ditched me on the night of my high school graduation.
2. He took a job with my parents, who are also assholes.
3. He showed up out of the blue after seven years just to stalk me and collect a paycheck for it.
4. And finally, he gave me the best sex of my life a week ago, and now he refuses to talk to me.
I had myself convinced that last part was just fine up until tonight. He’s kept mostly to himself. I’ve stayed in my apartment, working on my dissertation. And when I’ve gone over to the beach, he’s stayed back a thousand feet at all times. That seemed okay. It seemed not hurtful. Not purposeful.
Now it’s the night of the foundation dinner, and I know he’ll be on my ass all night long. I won’t be able to avoid him. For some reason, it’s made something inside of me break open, like a flood.
I sink down onto the floor next to my bath. The hot water is still running, and I reach up and turn it off.
I scroll through my phone and read the text again.
And then again.
Then I type out another text to Maddox and delete it. Then I do the same again. He’ll be here any minute.
I check the time.
We’ll be late, and he’ll be in here, yelling at me. I’ll have to hear his voice.
And that will make me look at my texts again. And write another one. And delete it again.
Who goes into the bathroom to take a shower and takes their phone with them? A pathetic, attention seeking, child, that’s who.
Christ, what am I doing? Am I really this needy?
I look back at that first text. The one from the morning after.
Maddox Bryant: I’m sorry. It should not have happened. I was unprofessional. It can’t happen again.
I woke up that morning, expecting to find him lying beside me, right where we fell asleep, him cradling me in his arms. But he was gone without a word, disappeared.
I tried calling him. I texted him. And that text is what I got in response — the ultimate, callous blow-off. I want to be angry, but all I am is hurt. The hurt aches in my body like somebody cut out my heart with a dull blade.
It changed something in me — this whole thing. It killed my anger, my impulsive rage. And it just made me sad.
The worst part about this whole catastrophe is that no matter how hurt I feel, I still have to put on my fake happy face and go out into the world. I have to smile for the cameras that appear more and more frequently everywhere I go. I have to show up and play the part of the dutiful daughter in support of my mother’s campaign for the Senate. And I have to see Maddox every single damn day. He’s my body guard. He won’t look me in the eye and he tries hard not to be alone with me for any length of time, but he’s still very present. And that presence is almost killing me.
I look down at the next text, sent in response to my demand for an explanation for his stonewall treatment.
Maddox Bryant: Please don’t send me anymore texts. Please don’t call my personal line. Give this up. I want to keep this job. Please don’t make it hard on me.
How the hell am I making it hard on him? He’s the one who’s treating me like I’m contagious.
That text was sent five days ago. Tonight I’m sitting here looking at his last text, sent only yesterday, begging him to just talk to me. The water is running in the shower behind me and the room is filled with steam. Maddox is waiting for me and has been for thirty minutes. We’re due in the city in less than an hour, but I can’t make myself move. I don’t want to go to another horrible fundraiser for my mother’s charity foundation. I don’t want to have to smile, and tell lies, and watch everyone fawn over ‘Evie’ like sinners seeking indulgences. Her pretense to philanthropy and this charity fundraiser tonight is just another route into the pockets of potential campaign contributors.
Maddox Bryant: Avery. Please. Stop. I’m only human. You’re killing me. I can’t run away anymore. I need this job.
All he cares about is his job. My entire life is slipping out of my hands, and he’s worried about his stupid muscle job. That’s all he is to my mother – the help. He knows that and still… What a coward. I fucking hate him.
As if on cue, I hear the door to my apartment open, and suddenly, Maddox Bryant is physically closer to me than he has been in a solid week. His voice booms across the apartment, and heavy footfalls head toward the bathroom. He slams his hand down against the solid wood door.
“Avery. You need to hurry up. We’re already late.”
There’s a brittle edge to his voice.
“I’m not going,” I say. My voice is hoarse, and I hope he doesn’t realize it’s from my crying. That would ruin my carefree, party girl reputation. Hell, he’s ruining that shit singlehandedly.
I read his text again. Like I’m seventeen and wondering why the quarterback dumped me on the way to prom.
Maddox Bryant: Avery. Please. Stop. I’m only human. You’re killing me. I can’t run away anymore. I need this job.
“God dammit Avery! Get your ass in motion. We’re late!” Now Maddox is pounding on the bathroom door with his fists. “You’re supposed to speak before your mother tonight! We need to leave!”
I’m just the puppet on the wire to all of them. Stand here. Smile. Do this. Do that. Be on time. Be gracious.
Screw them all.
I jump to my feet in a rage, gripping my phone in my fist, ready to use it to smash something – or someone.
Screw my mother and her fundraiser and all those corporate bastards trying to buy her loyalty. And screw him!
Without even thinking, I open the door, swinging it wide. Maddox is standing directly in front of me, wearing an expensive, immaculately tailored suit, and a frantic expression.
“Ave...” He eyes fall away from mine, slipping down to follow the angles and curves of my nearly naked body. I’m wearing only a bra and lace panties, standing there, pissed off, with beads of sweat clinging to my brow. In that instant, foaming with rage, I see Maddox’ expression change. He sees me again. He sees my full hips and round breasts, and my skin that he said was like creamy milk. He sees my angry blue eyes glaring at him.
And I don’t care if he sees me again. In that fleeting instant I hate him. I launch at him with everything I have, swinging hard.
Sadly, I’m no match for a former combat Marine. Maddox blocks my left fist and grabs my right. He pulls me forward, rolling me off-balance, then shoves me backward, pinning my wrists to the door so I can’t throw any more punches at his pretty face. I whine at the strength of his grip around my wrist, then I kick at him – but I miss. I can’t even get that right.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” Maddox insists, holding me firm. “Calm down.” His voice is low, soothing. He has me pinned against the open bathroom door, completely immobilized. Completely in his power.
His face is an inch from mine. I taste his cologne in my nostrils and feel the heat of his breath at my throat. The cloth of his suit jacket dances against my erect nipples, and I feel the press of his shoulder holstered gun hard against my ribs.
I stop fighting, giving in. It’s impossible for me to sustain my rage against Maddox. One moment I want to tear his eyes out for choosing his job over me, and the next moment I want to fall into his arms. He takes all the fight out of me.
I’m such a basket case. I’m completely impotent in his presence.
Maddox releases his grip on me and takes a step back.
I shake him off and walk past, then sit down on the edge of the bed, pressing back tears that I know are just going to choke me up and make my face red. That won’t please mother at all.
“Avery. Please, I don’t want to fight with you.” His tone is pleading, almost sympathetic.
“I don’t want to fight either,” I whisper in reply. “I just… I just want to know why you don’t want me.”
I can’t believe it, but Maddox drops to his knees right in front of me. “Avery. It’s not that,” he says. “I do want you, but I can’t. Not with this job. We can’t.” He touches the side of my face, gently pushing an errant strand of hair away from my eyes. “You have to understand, I’m too close already. I’ve really screwed up. I can’t keep working here if this...”
I can’t help myself. I lean down and press my lips to his tentatively. I slip my hands into his and pull him toward me. I feel Maddox stiffen and hesitate – initially – but even the dutiful, dependable Maddox Bryant cannot defy the magnetic charge that passes between us every time we get this close. He’s as powerless against it as I am. He rises up and meets my lips, gripping my hands in his.
He kisses me hard, moving in, releasing my hands, then slipping his into the small of my back, pulling my hips forward, my legs spread with my knees at his ribs as he kneels on the floor in front of me. My skin is electric under his touch, hot and soft, drawing his fingers in closer and deeper for more.
“Is this what you want?” he asks, briefly breaking the kiss, nuzzling my neck, breathing in my scent.
I melt into his embrace, slipping under the hypnotism of his kisses.
“More than anything,” I reply, my head swimming. “I just want you to want me…”
“I’ve wanted you as long as I’ve known you,” he whispers. He slips his hands under my ass and shoves me higher up onto the bed. Then, shedding his jacket and tossing it aside, he stands up and begins methodically undressing, beginning with his tie, then the hefty black gun slung in a leather shoulder holster under his arm. He unbuttons his dress shirt and hangs it on the back of a chair, along with his suit pants, then his shorts, revealing his impressive cock that I want to touch – kiss – suck – and bury inside me.
Without breaking eye contact for even a second, he climbs onto the bed over me, kissing me. He starts at my ankles, then moves up to my knees, using his lips and his tongue. He crawls higher, nipping at the taught flesh of my thighs with his teeth, making my hips rock up to meet his attentions. My legs spread involuntarily for him. I feel the wet heat of my pussy, begging him forward.
The weight of his body presses me down, the hair of his chest tickling against my skin, then his lips and scratchy beard tease the sensitive part of my inner thighs, his tongue licking around my hip bones and working its way nearer much more sensitive parts. I want him inside me so badly, I’m aching for him and already dripping. I reach up to his muscled, tattooed shoulders and grip them hard, pulling him higher toward me.
“You have me,” I whisper. “All of me. You always have.”
Maddox looks up from his crouch between my thighs, hooking his thumbs around the lace band of my panties, tugging them down and tossing them aside.
“I’m here,” he says, fixing his gaze on me. “I know what I’m doing this time.” His face is dark, resolved. “Come what may.”
He drops his gaze and slips his face between my thighs, his hands spreading my knees apart to admit him. His tongue finds my clit and with skilled precision, he starts working, lapping, rolling me in liquid pleasure, making my body quake reflexively.
Oh my god…
He slips one finger inside me, then another, edging the walls of my pussy, stretching me and filling me with fisted thrusts. He licks my clit, nipping and then sucking gently, until I feel the first tremors of orgasm begin to build.
Nobody’s ever made me feel like this...