<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">He was defensive, and she could tell by the way his body language became closed off. His arms folded across his chest as she started in on him, his eyes searching for a way out. Ava did not relent, continuing to unleash all her pent up thoughts even when he began to walk away from her. She wondered if he was even listening, truly hearing what she was saying or if he was tuning her out. Wes turned around to face her, and rather than the frustration that last consumed his features there was a softness about him as he tried, and failed, to dispute her words. The quiet that came thereafter made her anxious for reasons she couldn’t quite admit to herself. A dull fear resided within her as she waited for him to respond, afraid that he might stand by his decision to proceed without her. Though she told herself that she was worried for his safety, and that she was more determined than ever to see things through, there was something more complicated that she struggled to understand. The truth was slowly unraveling, revealing itself in the subtext of her own words. She <i>cared</i> about him.<br/>
<br/>
“Is . . . Is that <i>all</i> you got from what I said?” Her brow raised as he finally replied, his focus latching onto the regret she expressed over the kisses that they shared. Until then her gaze had been unwavering, not for one second did she look away from him as she waited expectantly for him to say anything at all. As much as she would have liked to dismiss the passionate moment they shared, write them off as a mistake made in the haze of a good time or in the heat of danger, she was all too willing to succumb to desire. She did not resist or protest. Instead she allowed herself to enjoy the contact, the taste of his lips, and the sensation of his caress. To say that she regretted was as much of a lie as telling herself she wouldn’t do it again. Still, she knew that it was for the best though the temptation lingered. The last vestiges of her restraint and self-control quieting the tug of lust. Ava watched while he moved to the back of the car, retrieving the bottle of Jack that he had stowed away. He leaned against the hood, that lopsided smirk returning to his features as he began. A look in his eyes made goosebumps on her skin as he appraised her, taking her in as though he was seeing her for the very first time. It made her feel uneasy, not uncomfortable but helpless in a way that she had never felt before. When he looked at her like that all the fire of her anger was extinguished miraculously, and she could do nothing to hold onto it. <br/>
<br/>
Ava smiled weakly as he spoke, fully prepared for him to decline. She was ready to concede to defeat, reaching for the bottle to take a small draw to soften the blow. When she did, he swiftly but gently took her arm, guiding her closer so that she was but a breath away. Her heart was hammering in her chest again, the words he spoke surprising and more flattering than she could have ever anticipated. He closed the gap between them, his lips pressing to hers. For a moment a fleeting bout of her good sense resurfaced, urging her to stay true to her word. Her hands on his chest, she clenched the material of his shirt as she battled with reason telling her to push away. A defeated coo escaped her against his lips, the need too much for her to fight. She released the tension in her hands, giving in to reciprocate the passion at her lips. Up his chest they traveled until her arms were locked around his neck, pressing her body to his as she raised herself onto her toes. She was experiencing that same flutter as she had in the bar earlier that evening, a feeling that hadn’t dulled since. The warmth, the lust; all of it came rushing back, and with it she could no longer think about those consequences she had spoken of. They were far from her mind, not even secondary to the rush of longing. “I don’t . . . I don’t want to leave you either,” she admitted breathily between ardent kisses. It wasn’t often that Ava was honest and forthcoming with her feelings, but it was obvious despite all her attempts to deny it. <br/>
<br/>
As the need to be closer emerged she did well to restrain herself, keeping the rhythm of the liplock slow and sensual while her tongue sweetly and gently sought out his. Her fingertips gingerly ran along the back of his neck, content even as her desire spiked and her core ached. But, there was still a nagging in the back of her mind, one that had nothing to do with their intimacy and more to do with duty. “The phone . . .” She reminded him, her lips still engaging him in deep and passionate kisses, reluctant to stop. For the second time that evening a phone had come between them and exploring their desires. “We have to get rid of it.”</span>