Page 30 of My Weakness

The fuck?She’d better be packing a bag to stay at mine again.

River: I’ll pick you up from yours then

Ava: No. I’m staying at mine tonight

River: No you’re not

Ava: Stop with the caveman attitude. I’ve only just moved into my own space. I want to stay at mine

Fair enough. She can stay at hers, but I’ll be staying there with her.

Ava

My doorbell rings and I know exactly who is going to be the other side of it. There’s no way he was going to let it go that easily. I still leave it a minute before I open the door, though. He doesn’t need to know I’m actually pleased he’s here.

He’s leaning against the doorjamb, arms folded and looking far too handsome for his own good. My pulse picks up at the sight of him, the way it always has. It used to be from anger, from hate, at least that’s what I thought it was. If I’m honest with myself, I’ve always felt an attraction to him, but anyone would — he’s gorgeous as sin.

I lean against the other doorjamb as I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Can I help you?”

He smirks at my question. “You can let me in.”

I cock my head at him. “Now, why would I do a thing like that? I don’t remember inviting you over.” His smile sends butterflies fluttering throughout me.

“You didn’t, but you’ll let me in because you and I both know you want to get fucked. It’s why you opened the door. Now, be a good girl and let me bury myself in your tight cunt.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” I step back from the doorway and sweep my arm out in a grand gesture of entrance. He picks me up with one arm as he walks into my space, and I squeal at his show of strength.

“Bed, dinner, then back to bed,” he declares as he leads me through to my bedroom.

“I’m a terrible cook and have no food in the house.”

“Even better,” he mutters as he places me on my mattress. “We’ll get takeout. In bed.”

Chapter Twenty

River

Ava: I’m running late. I’m going to have to meet you at the venue

River: Pipsqueak…

Ava: I’ll be there. I promise

That was an hour ago and she’s still not here. I will lose my shit if she doesn’t show. I’m just about to pull my cell phone out of the pocket of my tux when there’s a commotion near the entrance, and the sight I’m struck with steals my breath.

Holy shit.

She’s a vision, and everyone else in the room seems to agree as all eyes follow her progress towards me. I’m rooted to the spot, completely unable to move at the sheer beauty of her. Helena of Troy had nothing on my girl.

Fuck me.

She wouldn’t just start a war between a few countries, she’d start World War III, and every single soldier would gladly give their life for her.

Her dress is plain in comparison to some of the others in the room, but it just highlights the absolute beauty of the woman wearing it. She’s in a midnight blue floor length gown that sits off her shoulders in a straight cut across her chest. The sleeves stop midway down her forearms and the dress hugs her figure but isn’t clingy. The showstopper, though, is the high slit on her left leg; her ankle to the top of her thigh is exposed. The slit shows of the killer heels she’s currently walking towards me in, heels I can’t wait to feel wrapped around me later.

I finally put my tongue back in my mouth and take the few remaining steps towards her. Pulling her straight into my arms I stamp my lips to her own, her taste flooding my mouth. It’s a taste I’ll never get sick of, a taste I want for the rest of my life.