The Night Before Page 9

  He wanted Ava from the first second he saw her earlier tonight at Kendrick’s. Before that even. And now? He was buried inside of her, and it still wasn’t enough.

  Elias wrapped his arms around her and turned his head, kissing and licking her jaw then her neck, dipping his head against her collar-bone, a deep noise leaving his chest, then slid both hands over her ass, squeezing her cheeks, pulling her soft curves more tightly against him.

  She was slick and damp with sweat, her silky skin gliding over as she undulated her hips in a loose, erotic rhythm. Ava opened her eyes and looked at him as she kissed him, sucking on his lower lip like she couldn’t get enough of the way he tasted either. He ran his hands up her upper thighs, flipping them so that he was on top because he was too close to coming, just off the energy between them when she kissed him like that.

  His thrusts were fast and deep, his fingers buried in her soft curls, and Ava made another series of soft, silky noises from deep in her throat as she opened for him, grabbing at his lower back, then his ass, pulling him closer, tilting her head up to receive his kiss, arching her hips to match his rhythm. He grunted, closing his eyes briefly because she felt so good. So good.

  Elias realized fleetingly that he was kissing her like they were in love, and Ava was responding to him like she was his. He was eerily present with her, in this moment, feeling everything. His thoughts were everywhere and nowhere, focused and hazy because they were both clinging and cascading on the woman beneath him, the cushion of her brown thighs, her soft breasts pressed against his bare chest, her heavy breaths, and the way she kept wanting him to be closer and closer, hooking her heels into his upper thighs, lifting her head to meet his mouth when their lips weren’t touching, which wasn’t often. Like she craved this connection the same way he did.

  He was thrusting faster, deeper, lost in her, and she moaned, louder this time but still restrained, her mouth falling open as she tilted her chin up, clawing at his lower back with her fingertips. Elias felt her getting hotter, wetter around him, and he raised up on one arm, keeping his other hand buried in her hair, accelerating his movements as he met Ava’s eyes again, breathing hotly against her lips.

  Their mouths were touching, but they weren’t kissing, only breathing one another’s steamy air now, and he felt the hitch in her breath, the spike in her hip movement, the way she constricted her inner muscles around him in dizzying pleasure as she grabbed his back. Their moans were stifled only because their mouths were still pressed together, Ava swallowing the sounds that left his mouth, and he hers.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, and breathed his name, and then the Creator’s name, incoherently, causing chill bumps to break out over his arms. Ava was coming in forcible waves, and Elias finally allowed himself to let go too, driving into her wet warmth again, and again, and again, until his body stiffened and he came so hard, he literally saw nothing, except white light.

  Even before he came down, he knew this one time wouldn’t be enough with Ava. He lifted his head from the crook of her neck, and looked into her sleepy, sated eyes, still pulsing deep inside of her. Her lips parted as she drew in his air.

  Elias covered the sound with another kiss.

  9

  Elias watched, eyes half-closed, as Ava crept back into the bedroom, quietly shutting the door that led to the Jack and Jill bathroom that separated his old room from Matthew’s. The tiny Christmas tree was still glowing on the dresser, and he saw she was using it to help guide her way back to the bed, still unfamiliar with her surroundings.

  She slipped into the sheets soundlessly, with her back facing him, probably thinking he was still asleep since it had to be close to four in the morning. It’d been a couple of hours since they both drifted off, spent and sated, Ava dozing first, her head resting on his arm, with him just a few minutes after that.

  “You good?” he asked, rolling over onto his back.

  She jumped a little at the sound of his quiet, groggy voice, and turned to face him, nodding her head as she tucked a hand beneath her cheek.

  He smiled when she met his eyes, and so did she. Hers was soft, nearly shy, but unreserved. Her gaze drifted toward the window, where the sky was black and silent now that it’d stopped snowing.

  He could practically see the thoughts milling around her brain when she blinked sleepily.

  So pretty.

  She smiled suddenly, raising her brows. “You know your mom has a Santa Claus in the bathroom?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “It scared the crap out of me a second ago. It was sitting on the back of the toilet, just staring at me, like ‘Ho, ho, ho, Ava.”

  He laughed quietly. “Did you speak back?”

  She rolled her eyes and grinned.

  “But for real,” she whispered, “why does it look like—”

  “Fidel Castro,” they said together. Elias chuckled as Ava dissolved into soft laughter that she covered with her hand.

  “I thought I was tripping!” she laughed.

  “I don’t know what’s up with that,” he said quietly, shaking his head, still grinning, when her laughter died down a bit.

  “I wanna go there.”

  “Cuba?”

  She nodded. “Havana is on my bucket list. I wanna go meet Assata Shakur.”

  “You’d love it,” he said, keeping his voice low, watching as her eyes widened with interest.

  “When’d you go?”

  “Earlier this year. One of my boys did his bachelor weekend out there, so me and Jeremiah went.”

  “You did the Afro-Cuban tours and all that?”

  “Yep. We were only there for about three days, so I didn’t get to do as much as I wanted. I wanted to pop over to Varadero.”

  Ava shifted in the sheets, smiling. “I want to do a week there. Three days in Havana, three days at the beach.”

  “I said I’m gonna go back soon. You should come.”

  Ava raised her brows and grinned, as surprised as he was that he just blurted out the invitation like that. But, the ill part was that he realized he meant it.

  For a while, they just stared at each other. Silently processing the connection between them. Like he could breathe easy with this woman. Ava blinked her eyes closed, her long eyelashes nearly brushing her cheek bones. Then she opened them again, as if she wanted to look at him too.

  Elias reached out, reaching for the bottom hem of her t-shirt—his t-shirt, which she’d thrown on when she used the bathroom—urging her to slowly slide against the warm sheets, closer to him. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder then tilted her head up to press her lips to his.

  He kissed her slowly. Because he didn’t get enough of her the first time. Removed his t-shirt from her body slowly.

  She sighed, pressing closer still, sliding her soft thighs between his before he rolled on top of her. This time, he entered her inch by inch, watching her eyes darken, chin tilt upward, lips part, before she closed her eyes, her breaths heavy yet soft.

  He didn’t begin moving immediately. Instead, they only kissed, his fingers buried in her curly hair. When he did start moving, it was languidly, with Ava pressing her hips up to meet his lazy strokes, breathing against his lips.

  And when they did finally rest, it was with Ava, in his arms.

  10

  Natural sunlight, along with smells of bacon, fresh bread, and cinnamon, wafted from the kitchen when Ava entered from the back hallway, where the bedrooms were located.

  For a long second, she hovered unseen at the entrance, taking in the early Christmas morning sounds of Elias’ family. “My Favorite Things”—the Luther Vandross version. Deep, relaxed voices. Pots clanging. Light, feminine laughter.

  Ava closed her eyes and took a deep breath, catching the scent of freshly brewed coffee, picking at her top lip with her thumb and index finger, before dropping her hand and rounding the corner.

  At first, her presence wasn’t noticed as she surveyed in the scene. Matthew was leaning against the sink counter, holding a fores
t green coffee mug, talking, as either Jeremiah or Daniel— she wasn’t sure which because his back was turned— fried bacon in a cast iron skillet. Hope was sitting at the island bar in a maroon v-neck sweater that hung to her thighs, a colorful mug shaped like a snowman in her hand as she watched her sons, her smile peaceful and genuine.

  Elias was nowhere in sight, just as it was when she woke up alone in the queen-sized bed, spent and sated, panicked and invigorated all at once, all in the single breath she took when she blinked herself to consciousness.

  There was a dent in the paisley blue and gray sheets next to her, where Elias’ body once was, letting her know the past few hours hadn’t been a dream. The fullness between her legs was another reminder. The tenderness of her breasts, the sensitivity on her skin where her collarbone connected to her neck because Elias kissed her there more times than she could remember last night, were all indications of how fully she’d given herself over to him.

  She’d spread a hand over the empty spot, her thoughts spinning, heart thudding before she spotted a small note written on a scrap of the green reindeer wrapping paper they’d used to wrap his nieces’ presents last night.

  “Best. Christmas. Ever.”

  She’d laughed aloud, burying her face in the pillow, which smelled like him. She felt as if she were in high school all over again.

  Matthew looked up now, finally spotting her hovering in the kitchen entrance way, and dropped a boyish grin on her that made both of his deep dimples appear, and Ava little less like an intruder.

  “Merry Christmas,” he offered, his voice early morning hoarse.

  “Merry Christmas,” Ava returned, thankful she sounded normal when she felt anything but. “Morning everyone, Merry Christmas.”

  “Oh, hey there! Merry Christmas.”

  Hope greeted her just as she had last night as if she had legitimate reason to be genuinely happy to see her. Ava made her way to the kitchen island, and gave her a quick hug, inhaling her comforting cocoa butter scent, pushing down the awkwardness of being in a home other than her mother’s Christmas morning. It felt intrusive, even though nothing in the Young’s demeanor said her insecurities were warranted.

  She’d talked to her mom first thing in the morning. Jeff’s daughter was still in the hospital, but they were taking the kids to breakfast and a Christmas movie. She knew Caren wanted to press her about her time at Elias’ house but that was a conversation that would definitely be saved for later. She’d also talked to Ellie, who was back at her mom’s, giving her a nutshell version of last night’s events because she was still processing things herself.

  “Coffee?” Matthew asked now, tilting his head toward the large pot of coffee that was brewed on the counter next to him. He was comfortable in a pair of sweats that hung low on his waist and long-sleeved thermal, his curly hair contained beneath another skull cap, this one black.

  Ava nodded, crossing the hardwood floor to accept a mug from him, which he blindly grabbed from the cabinet above him.

  “Did you sleep well?” Hope was asking. “It gets a little cold in the back bedrooms during the winter. I hope Elias showed you where the blankets were.”

  Ava’s nod was brisk and she kept her eyes on her mug at the mention of Elias’ name, and the bed where she’d had sex with him like it was her last night on earth. Like he was her last bit of pleasure ever, and she therefore had to savor every moment, swallow every drop. She almost shivered thinking about it, and goose bumps did coat her arms as flashes of his lips, tongue, fingers, hands on her neck, her belly, her thighs, invaded her brain, clinging to her memories.

  “I slept well,” she replied, wetting her lips before offering Hope a smile she hoped didn’t look practiced. “I didn’t get cold at all. Elias showed me… where everything was.”

  God.

  She felt Jeremiah or Daniel’s eyes on her, and she glanced over at him guiltily, catching the tail end of his grin before he resumed his bacon frying. She saw his profile and realized it was Jeremiah, because his beard was a little fuller and because of the way he’d grinned at her. Daniel didn’t offer smiles, of any sort, easily.

  Crap. Of course, everyone in the house knew she’d slept with Elias. Well, his brothers probably did since all the bedrooms were zig-zagged along the same lengthy hallway. Thankfully, Hope and Joe’s bedroom was on the opposite side of the house, so they could render themselves clueless to what went on beyond their immediate area, which Ava suspected was intentional.

  Ava turned to pour her coffee, closing her eyes briefly again as the steaming liquid filled her snowflake mug. Guilt. On top of the mass of emotions that were swirling in her brain and loitering in her chest cavity this morning, she felt guilty as sin for having sex in Hope’s house that way, when she was clearly a spiritual, Godly woman who probably wasn’t into recently rescued strangers screwing the brains out of her son on a sanctified holiday, in her home. At the same time, nothing about what she’d shared with Elias felt frivolous. It felt like more.

  She took a scalding sip of her coffee, nearly burning her tongue and pushed out a breath in an attempt to gather herself. She turned around facing the room once more.

  “Can I do anything to help?” she asked.

  “No, you cannot,” Hope interceded before Matthew or Jeremiah could answer. “Christmas cooking is all on the men in this house.”

  Ava smiled amusedly. “Even breakfast?”

  “Even breakfast,” Matthew conceded, taking a gulp of coffee.

  “Mama cooks all year, no breaks,” Hope said. “The men can handle one holiday.”

  “Have some coffee cake,” Matthew offered, bobbing his head toward the kitchen island. “E made it.”

  “You want bacon?” Jeremiah asked her, cutting off the stove.

  “Ain’t nobody messing with that swine but you and dad, man.”

  “She’s capable of making her own food choices, man,” Hope said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly, mimicking Matthew.

  “I actually did kinda want some bacon until you called it ‘swine,’” Ava teased him, grinning over the brim of her cup.

  Jeremiah chuckled and Matthew frowned, dimples showing again.

  “That’s what’s wrong with black people,” he said shaking his head, lightly bumping her shoulder with his. “Gotta get off that slave food. Stop eating massa’s scraps.”

  “You take things way too far, homie,” Jeremiah smirked, taking a large bite of the bacon sandwich he’d just made, chewing exaggeratedly. Hope just laughed, picking at the coffee cake on the saucer in front of her.

  “Your dad still out back messing with that turkey?” Hope asked.

  “I don’t know why he insisted on frying it this early,” Jeremiah frowned, glancing toward the patio door, just off the living room. “It’s only 11:30.”

  “I told him I did not want to start eating dinner at eight this year.”

  “You’re not gonna let us live that down, huh?” Jeremiah asked, still chewing.

  “Ever,” Matthew tacked on, eyeing Hope. “It was one time, Mama, three years ago.”

  “And I don’t want a repeat,” she said, grinning at Matthew’s scowl.

  “What time is Zoe coming with my babies?” Hope asked, taking another bite of coffee cake.

  “About an hour,” Matthew answered, crossing his legs as he leaned his back against the counter, next to Ava.

  “You didn’t want to take your dad’s truck to pick them up?”

  “Zoe’s being stubborn. Said she has her brother’s Range Rover. I ain’t tryin’ to fight with her about it.”

  Hope hummed her disapproval. Ava sipped from her mug, wondering where Elias was, and at the same time, wishing she could avoid him so she could have more time to process what went down with them last night, just as a gush of cool air swept into the room.

  A few seconds later, Joe made his way into the kitchen from the garage entrance way, followed by Daniel, and lastly, Elias, sporting his black pea coat with a ball cap turned backward on h
is head. Damn. He was so fine.

  Instantly, at the sight of him, her heart leaped into her stomach, and her pulse began racing double-time. Elias spotted her, and their eyes connected. The energy that was between them hadn’t changed, it was buzzing and crackling, alive with intention and memory.

  “Morning. Merry Christmas,” he offered, his deep voice gruff, reminding her of the way it sounded in her ear last night.

  “Merry Christmas.” Ava’s stomach tightened as she released a breath. His gaze skimmed over mint green mock turtleneck dress, resting at the curve of her hips before floating upward to her face. The once over was quick but thorough, and Elias’ grin was relaxed, as he made his way into the kitchen.

  “You’re back already?” Hope questioned as Joe dropped a quick kiss on her cheek, once he’d place the turkey pan on the stove. His sons got their build from him. He was dark chocolate and at least 6’2, with the broad shoulders of a man who worked out regularly.

  “I said it wouldn’t take but a minute,” Joe answered his wife.

  Elias shrugged out of his coat, draping it over the back of one of the empty barstools at the kitchen island, revealing a caramel tan thermal that showed off his muscular arms. He came and stood next to her, reaching above her head for a coffee mug. His scent hit her, and she swallowed more coffee in a futile attempt to drown it out.

  “We tried to see about your car, but they still have the interstate blocked. Think it should be cleared in another couple hours.”

  Ava stared up at him, unable to hide her surprise. “Oh wow, I didn’t expect for you to even try to do that, Elias.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Why wouldn’t I do that?” His voice was low, so that only she could hear him.