3. Resolution

Having spent a long day at the gallery, Ava was more than ready to kick off her shoes and take refuge in her apartment. Not that she'd accomplished much of anything. Work on her new showing had ground to a halt because she couldn't concentrate, she'd blown off two important customers because she didn't feel like dealing with the drama, and she'd lost the customs paperwork for her latest acquisitions.

After all those disasters, what was uppermost in her mind? The fact she'd had her assistant lie to Griffin and tell him she'd unexpectedly gone to the City that morning.

She was a smart, independent and pragmatic woman. This was not how a smart, independent and pragmatic woman acted. Although if she were honest with herself, her affairs rarely left her feeling any of those qualities.

A knock came from the door. Not expecting anyone, she removed the gun from her gun safe and silently approached the door. Peeping through the spyhole, she saw Griffin and froze. She really didn't want to have this confrontation tonight, or any other.

"I know you're in there," he called out. "I know you didn't go to New York."

Busted, she let out a lengthy sigh and opened the door.

"Dessert," he sniped, shoving a small bag into her chest. "Ice cream. Now, would you like to tell me why you snuck out of bed this morning and then had your assistant lie?"

"Come right in," Ava said sarcastically. "And by all means, tell my neighbors everything that's not their business," she added as she closed the door.

"Did you really think I didn't know a brush off when I heard it?"

"Common confessional discussion?"

"Do I look like an idiot to you?"

"I needed some time to process this. I wasn't expecting to end up in bed with you."

His anger softened a bit. "I didn't intend that either. I just-"

"Had a drawer full of condoms?"

"I'm a doctor. Who works at a free clinic. Where a lot of people come to discuss sexual responsibility."

"Okay," Ava conceded. "I just didn't think-"

"I was your type?"

"No-you're exactly my type. Emotionally unavailable."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Griff asked as evenly as he could.

Ava snorted. "Hello, I'm a priest," is usually the definition of unavailable."

"I don't introduce myself that way."

"But it always manages to work itself into the conversation, doesn't it? Deliberately or subconsciously, it's a signal."

"I can't deny my past. But I thought you understood what it was like to not want to be defined by it anymore."

"Then there's Anna." Griffin narrowed his eyes, not liking this direction. "There's something a little vibe-y about the way you talk about her."

"She was married to my father," he protested. "She welcomed me to Port Charles. She's the only real connection to my father I have. It's almost like we're family."

"Ever hear of the Oedipal complex?" Ava stopped his next protest before it crossed his lips. "How many cities have you lived in?"

"What does that have to do with us?"

"There isn't an us," Ava hissed as her heart sank just a little. "You live like a frat boy in a tiny studio. There's nothing permanent in your life. You've got no life outside the hospital. No friends. I recognize loneliness when I see it, Griffin."

"So, according to you, you're just the first woman I've come across?"

"Yes."

"It didn't occur to you I could feel a connection with a beautiful, intelligent, desirable woman? That I wanted to change my life? Look, I've been in limbo. Too long. But I found a purpose when Charlotte entered my life. Though it was hardly long enough for me to blink, I saw myself in an entirely new light."

"That's wonderful. My daughters have literally saved my life. Doesn't mean last night was anything more than one night. You should be relieved. My affairs are disasters."

"Exaggerate-"

"Oh, that's no exaggeration. Serial killer, a rival mob boss, his undiagnosed bipolar son. Two kind men, nice enough to save my life died violently."

In her bare feet, she came up to his shoulders, just the right height to kiss without feeling towered over. Flashes of the night before flew through her mind, a jumble of thoughts and images she had yet to untangle. He was close enough to touch, and she had never been good at denying temptation. "Please go," she said quietly, keeping her hands at her sides.

"All that matters to me-you're the first woman to see me. Griffin, the man. Not Father. Doctor. Just a man."

It didn't surprise her when he leaned in to kiss her. He was not a man skilled in deception, and she could read the intent in his clear, green eyes. The unexpected was the tenderness. Most men she'd know would've had their pride insulted or not cared she hadn't been around in the morning. And after arguing, aggressive and dominating. Or cold and ruthless.

His kiss was light and teasing. Daring her to deny the stirring desire it generated. And when she finally met his tongue, he retreated, making her come to him. Whatever icy resistance she had built during the day melted under his seduction.

She wanted to feel his skin on hers-teasing her aching nipples, brushing low on her belly, finding the soft underside of her knee as he stroked her thighs. Instead, they remained on her hips, leaving the rest of her body jealous.

Her hands explored him. The breadth of his shoulders and stubble along his chin. The flat nipples, sinewy muscle, and sleek definition of his torso. "Touch me," he whispered when her hand stopped at the belt line. He sank his teeth into her neck when her hand glided between the material and cradled his rapidly growing erection.

Her apartment lacked the immediacy of Griffin's, but the tortured journey to her bedroom left desire coiled tightly, ready to burst. Silk, lace, cotton and denim piled on the carpet before Ava found herself straddling him, her hand wrapped around his impressive and engorged shaft. Griff murmured approval as she pumped slowly up and down the length, brushing the head with her thumb. Ava felt the tension build, his hands gripping her tightly as his mouth closed over nipple, teeth grazing against the hardness before replacing it with his tongue.

The heat grew low in her belly, throbbing and gnawing for relief. Cheeks flushed, Ava guided the smooth head of his cock between her thighs, then rose and sank down the shaft as he watched.

She rode him, hips thrusting, lush breasts swaying, wet heat tight around his cock. When her tongue came out to wet her lips, he felt himself grow harder still, as impossible as that seemed. Ava gave him a wicked grin, knowing every movement, every action was like gas on a fire. They fused together, bucking and rolling in rhythm, energy and friction building. Griff sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist, letting her grind hotly against him. Sweat glistened on their naked flesh, nerves stretched, muscles worked hard until the first sputterings of orgasm rippled through them. Urgency clenched them together, blotting out weakness and exhaustion. He licked at sweat on her neck, felt her breasts mound against his chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, kissing him, ignoring the way her lungs already burned for oxygen and plunging her tongue inside his mouth.

Feverishly, he grabbed her ass, knowing he couldn't last much longer. Ava seemed to sense it too, tearing her mouth away to take longer and deeper thrusts, spiraling along the crest and then letting go, shaking as he spilled and spasmed inside her.

"_"

"You weren't kidding when you called your kitchen a desert," Griffin chided much later. "The ice cream is soup." Seeing her at the window, standing, silohuetted in the moonlight, he could feel desire starting again in his belly. Naked, he came up behind her, sliding a martini glass into her hand. "But I did find three kinds of stuffed olives. And a susipious bottle of cocktail onions, which may or may not be trying to infiltrate your fridge."

"Those are only for dire emergencies," Ava assured him, "Snowpocolypse. An olive embargo. A visit from my lawyer." His hand drifted across her stomach, brushing open the loosely tied robe to rest against bare flesh. They were very skilled, those hands, and the thought of them drifting between her thighs was almost as distracting as the way his tongue brushed the tip of her ear lobe and his warm breath fluttered against her neck.

Ava refused to use the word revelation, but whatever this was, it was shockingly powerful and unique to her.

"Did you really think I was a virgin?"

Smiling at the incredulous note in his question, Ava shrugged. "I misunderstood some of the finer points in Lulu's story. But in my defense, she talks in circles."

"I was also a teenage boy," he chuckled, taking a sip from her oversized martini glass.

"Who also learned to make a decent martini?"

"Not until college."

"Martini college? Time well spent." The martini was ice-cold sliding down her throat, the rest of her body was smoldering thanks to his deft manipulation of his skin on hers. One hand splayed low on her stomach, just hovering in anticipation, while his lips trailed kisses along her neck and shoulders. As her knees grew weak, she let the glass fall harmlessly to the carpet, leaning into his body. And the weaker she felt, the harder he did. His shaft was rigid and unyielding against her ass. Ava arched her back, earning a sharp hiss as friction trapped, stroked and caressed the entire length.

The foreplay took on a renewed urgency, and Griffin slipped his hand over the apex of her thighs, slipping through the slick folds to tease the pulsating bud. Her body stilled for a long moment, absorbing, savoring the sweet friction from his fingers and anticipating when he would slide inside her, and she could give that pleasure back to him.

Griffin watched the pale outline of her face in the window. Her eyes closed as he swirled his thumb in the moist heat. The power he felt made him bolder, and he slide one finger, and then another swiftly into her body. The soft moan that escaped made him ache. Throb. Want.

She felt his hungers shift, as clearly as if he'd announced his intent. Her palm flattened against the window, as he nudged her thighs wider and buried his arousal with one deep thrust.

The thrill of the moment was a stepping off point-every ragged breath, bead of sweat and thrust rippling through trembling limbs. Ripples grew stronger, deeper, more intense. The rise was hard and fast, a spiral of desire that blotted out the rest of the world. They pushed, over, through, off the invisible edge...and fell, gloriously exhausted.

There were sweet whispered words and the reassuring safety of his arms as she drifted between realms. And he was still there in the morning when the sun peaked through her window.

Ava stirred, finding Griffin crowded next to her, his head on her pillow. He was a puzzle-from his inky eyelashes and full lips to his cute ass. Or maybe he only seemed that way to her because he didn't have an agenda. That was a rare thing in her world.

Her last thoughts snuggling against the heat of his body were whether to invest in more top shelf vodka, or adding a well aged Scotch to her bar. And that Nurse Webber had been correct. He had a hell of a bedside manner.