Shifting my position, I kneel between his legs and wrap my hand around him. Then, I do what I think is right. I start to move my hand up and down.
God, I’m so nervous.
I look at him to make sure I’m doing this right.
“Just squeeze a little harder,” he tells me, his voice rough.
I tighten my grip a little and keep my hand moving.
“Fuck yeah, that’s it, Evie. Jesus…” He groans, a flush rising on his cheeks.
I love that I’m doing this to him. It gives me a sense of power.
“I’m not gonna last, babe. It’s been…a…long while. Fuck.”
His hips jerk up, then, he starts to move himself up and down, pumping his cock faster in my hand, so I quicken my movements to give him what he needs.
I can feel that need between my legs again, and my body starts to tremble.
“Jesus…Evie…fuck, I’m gonna come.”
I feel his cock jerk in my hand, and then hot spurts hit my skin as he comes. I keep moving my hand until I’m sure he’s done.
I look down at the sticky mess covering my hand and his stomach.
I made him come. My hand made Adam come.
I mentally high-five myself.
I glance up at Adam, and he’s staring down at me with awe written all over his face.
I’m feeling pretty awestruck myself.
“Come here,” he says.
Letting go of him, I lift my sticky hand up. “Do you have anything I can clean myself with?”
“Oh, sure.” He gives a little laugh. Reaching over, he grabs some tissues from the bedside table and hands them to me.
I wipe my hands clean, and then I clean up his stomach. I can feel his eyes on me the whole time.
Adam takes the used tissues from me and deposits them on the bedside table.
Feeling kind of funny, being totally naked, I reach down and get his T-shirt from the floor. It’s his favorite shirt, which makes it my favorite. It’s a black Rolling Stones T-shirt, the one with the tongue sticking out of a mouth.
I pull it over my head, covering my body. It smells like him, and so do I.
It makes me feel all warm and gooey inside.
“I like my shirt on you,” he says, holding his arms out to me.
I crawl into them, loving the feel of his arms wrapping around me.
“But I like you naked an awful lot more.”
I grin up at him. “You do realize, you’re not getting your shirt back, right?”
He pulls the covers over us and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I have no problem with that, babe, so long as I’m the one who gets to take it off your body.”
“Oh, you definitely will be.” I press a soft kiss to his mouth, loving as he hums a delicious sound of assent beneath my lips. “And if I haven’t told you this already, I like you, Adam Gunner—a whole lot.”
His eyes smile into mine, and it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.
“And I like you a whole lot, too, Evie Taylor.” His lips press to mine again. “I think you’re fucking amazing.”
Smiling and happy in a way I’ve never felt before, I tuck my head under Adam’s chin, burrowing closer to his body, not ever imagining myself being anywhere else but here with him.
“Adam, your mother’s on her way up. Serena did ask her to wait, so she could call up to make sure you weren’t busy, but Ava ignored her and bypassed reception. Do you want me to head her off?” the voice of my assistant, Mark, fills my office.
For fuck’s sake.
I let out a sigh. Then, I press the button on the intercom, answering him, “No, it’s fine. Let her in when she arrives.”
“Okay, will do. Just to let you know, I’ll be away from my desk for a few minutes after that. I need to go see Simon in HR.”
“Sure, no probs.”
I let out another sigh, a tired one this time, as I lean back in my chair. I haven’t been sleeping well all week, and I could really do without a visit from the devil.
I wonder what Ava wants this time. I only see her when she needs something from me.
And my lack of sleep has nothing to do with the fact that I haven’t heard from Evie all week. I went to see her on Monday, and it’s now Friday. I told her to call me the next day, so we could talk, and she hasn’t.
And it’s pissing me off.
When leaving the hotel, I’ve seen her at the coffee shop, but there is no fucking way I’m going back in there to ask why she hasn’t called me.
Maybe she doesn’t think us still being married is a big deal. I mean, she didn’t care ten years ago, so why would she care now?
Well, whatever. I did my part. I told her the truth, unlike what she has done with me.
The ball is firmly in her court now.
I hear the familiar click of Ava’s high heels on the wood floor outside my office. It makes my skin prickle, and annoyance grows in my chest. Funny how just the sound of Ava walking can piss me off.
I hear her speak—or should I say, I hear her talking down to Mark.
The door opens, and I repress another sigh.
Here we go.
“Adam.” There isn’t any niceness in her tone, not that I’m surprised. She’s spoken to me with the same level of intolerance ever since I can remember.
“Ava.”
She narrows her eyes at me. She doesn’t like it when I call her by her first name. Fuck knows why. It’s not like she enjoys or cares to be my mother—well, apart from when I can give her something or do something for her, which is clearly why she’s here.
“What do you want this time?”
She frowns at me—well, frowns as best as she can with all the Botox and skin-tightening she’s had done over the years.
She takes the seat at the other side of my desk. “Is that any way to greet your mother?”
I tip my head to the side. “Sorry. I’ll rephrase. What the fuck do you want this time, Ava?”
Tut-tutting, she shakes her head at me, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “You really are such a disappointment. Other children treat their mothers with respect.”
“Other children don’t find their mothers having a threesome with their best friend’s parents.”
I never did tell Max that. I didn’t know how to. I mean, it’s not something that comes up easily in conversation.
Oh, by the way, I came home from school the other day, and my mother was fucking your mom and dad.
Honestly, I was afraid he’d blame me, and I would lose him.
I was thirteen, and Max was all I had in the world.
Sighing, she rolls her eyes. “Ancient history.” She flicks a hand at me.
I can’t suppress the laugh of disdain that escapes me.
History. Denial. Ignorance.
Ava’s best defenses.
I release a sigh. “I’m busy, Ava. What is it you want from me this time?”
Examining her nails, she says, “Well…it’s been a while since I worked.”
“I thought you were taking a break.”
“I was, and now, I want to work.”
“Well, I haven’t got anything for you. You could always try another studio.”
God, wouldn’t that be a fucking dream? Let someone else deal with her.
Ignoring my suggestion, she says, “I heard that Avalon is going ahead.”
Avalon is a script that came to me a few years ago. Originally, I was on the fence about it. It wasn’t the right time. But the market has shifted, and I think it’s the right time to put it into production. It’s a take on the legend of King Arthur, starting with his fight with Mordred at the Battle of Camlann where Arthur was wounded and thought to have died. It progresses to show his recovery at Avalon, revealing that he lived and returned to lead his people against their enemies.
“It is.”