Chapter Six

Avon backed her up against the kitchen counter, a flurry of kisses erupting. She hadn’t been kissed like this since the last time Avon kissed her. And before that? Never.

 

The man was barely restrained. It was like passion leaked out of him, and he was struggling to keep it in. Struggling and failing. She almost moaned as he hoisted her onto the countertop, but she bit it back and cinched an arm around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. His broad, manly shoulder that felt far too good pressed against her body. Every damn part of him felt good.

 

And why shouldn’t she enjoy it? Her breath hitched as his kisses skated up her neck, then down the valley of her breasts. She clenched her legs around him, suddenly needing him so badly that she felt like she’d die if she didn’t get it.

 

“We shouldn’t do this here,” she whispered, but she didn’t mean it. She wanted it here, and everywhere else in the house. She wanted it a million times over. She’d never been with someone like Avon.

 

His darkness, that roughness around the edges, lit her up like a firecracker. When she’d seen him that night in the bar, shadows dancing across his face, the way he’d handled her both like a princess and a possession that night in her back seat… well, there was a reason why she only saw his face anymore. He was a vice she hadn’t realized she’d been needing.

 

“Do what?” His gravelly voice came out as a whisper in her ear. His fingers danced at the hem of her shorts, pushing underneath the fabric. His touch scorched up her thighs, brushing at the edge of her panties. Words dissolved. She couldn’t think, not with this sexy outlaw in front of her, the opposite of everything she thought she would want or crave.

 

All she could do was spread her legs wider, inviting him inside. His fingers pushed into the heat of her pussy, his rough, thick fingertips cresting the tight nub of her clit. She inhaled sharply as he rolled her clit between thumb and forefinger, a roughness there that at any other moment she’d say was too much or not how she liked it.

 

But when it was Avon behind the wheel, she liked everything he had to offer.

 

“You know what I’m talking about,” she said, her voice coming out shaky.

 

Avon ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his dark gaze soldering her to the spot. She couldn’t have stopped this if she wanted to. He undid his zipper, painfully slowly, and then fished his cock out so that it filled his palm, ramrod straight and swollen. A shallow breath escaped her as she took it in. The purply head. The veins bulging along the length.

 

He pushed aside the crotch of her shorts and panties, the cool air meeting her womanhood. He grazed the tip of his cock over the slick folds of her pussy, a teasing gesture, his eyes sizzling on her.

 

“You want more of that?”

 

She jerked her head into a nod.

 

“Why can’t I control myself around you?” The tip of his cock brushed hot against the tight bud of her clit, and then made a slow swirl over her entrance. A throaty laugh escaped her. So she wasn’t the only one suffering from this startling loss of control, this sexual power that held her hostage.

 

But her laugh was cut off when Avon pressed himself inside her, the fat cockhead pushing in with ease. She bit at his shoulder as he sunk deeper, the bliss screaming and swirling inside her. All the hazy memories of their hot sex in the back seat of her car came rushing back, a primal memory associated with the heat and feel of this man and this man alone.

 

He rocked against her in a fast and desperate rhythm, one that matched the desperation inside her. She didn’t know what had been worse – three months without knowing if she would ever see him or fuck him again, or the past handful of days with him within arm’s reach but still somehow off-limits.

 

Static built fast and furious until the warning buzz in her core made it clear she didn’t have much time left. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, biting her bottom lip so hard she tasted the iron tang of blood. Avon’s hands gripped her ass cheeks as he drilled into her, his barely audible grunts echoing through her.

 

“Oh God,” she whispered.

 

Avon grabbed a handful of her breast over the tank top, tweaking her nipple between his fingers. And that was it, the final straw. Her orgasm sprouted and then blossomed, spreading through her like a warm, sticky wave. She tossed her head back and bit back the moan that threatened to ricochet through the kitchen and possibly all the way into the other room where Matt was still blessedly occupied, unaware of this heathen act next to the sink.

 

Avon grunted but didn’t falter, rocking against her as she rode her orgasm from the peak to the valley. When her entire body felt like warm goo, Avon stilled, scooping her into his arms, pressing her so hard against him that she thought she might snap in two.

 

“Wow.” She pressed her palm against his chest as he slid himself out of her a moment later. She could barely see straight. Hell, she probably wouldn’t even pass a sobriety test right now. This man was a pure drug.

 

He laughed weakly, pressing his forehead against hers. He drew deep, labored breaths for a few moments. There was something pure and beautiful there, despite the unplanned countertop sex aspect of it. She dragged her fingers down the front of his T-shirt, realizing she still hadn’t seen the bare skin beneath.

 

“So, when do I get to see you without a shirt on?”

 

A sly smile crossed his face. “Round two. After Matt goes to bed.”

 

“Oh, thank God.” She laughed as he zipped himself up, then readjusted her shorts. “I’ve been so horny during this pre—”

 

Robyn stopped herself at what she hoped was an innocuous part of the sentence but the look in Avon’s eyes told her he knew exactly what she was about to say. Dammit. Panic flooded her, followed by a glaring clarity that contrasted the sweet, lazy post-coital bliss.

 

“During this what?”

 

Robyn swallowed, searching his face as though it might hold the clue to how to get out of this mess. She hadn’t meant to say anything. She really hadn’t. But damn that good orgasm and her loosened senses.

 

“Were you going to say pregnancy?” Avon pressed.

 

She nibbled on her bottom lip, nodding.

 

Avon relaxed, as though the admission was more of a relief than anything else. “So I was right.”

 

Robyn squeezed her eyes shut, an unhappy influx of emotions overcoming her. “Listen, I don’t really want to talk about it. I’m not sure what needs to be said even. I’m having the baby, and I’m going to raise it on my own. That’s that.”

 

Avon watched her for a moment before responding, the amber tinge in his eyes practically roiling with unspoken sentiments. “So it’s mine?”

 

Robyn straightened her hair and tank top as she tried to regain the cold, distant composure from before Avon changed her life irreparably. “You’re the only possible dad. So yeah. I guess it is.”

 

Avon watched her with a heavy look for way longer than she was prepared to handle. The silence scratched at her, leaving an uncomfortable wake. She pushed at his chest, urging him off to the side. She hopped down gently from the countertop, finding her legs wobbly and sex shaken.

 

At least she’d gotten her one more time with Avon. She might have spent the rest of her life wondering if it was as good as that night in the back seat of her car.

 

And now she could definitively say, Yes it was. Better, even.

 

But somehow, that didn’t reassure her in her decision to keep Avon out of her and her unborn baby’s life. She was supposed to want to do this alone. She wasn’t supposed to want to invite an outlaw into her life.

 

But as she wobbled away from Avon, her entire body screamed at the distance she put between the two of them. Like it was begging for more, her skin prickled in protest. She rubbed her face, peeking into the living room to check on Matt. Thankfully, he was absorbed in another television program. So maybe they hadn’t scarred him right off the bat.

 

“You know, I was thinking about taking Matt to see a child psychologist,” Robyn said, doing her best impression of a casually unaffected woman who had more important things to think about than a life-changing orgasm.

 

Avon took a long time to respond, his dark eyes swirling with things she was hesitant to acknowledge. He flattened his palm on the countertop where he’d hoisted her. When he finally spoke, he sounded resigned. Distant. Disappointed, maybe.

 

“Sure. Sounds like a great idea.”