by Jewel, Bella
I washed away the evidence and finished off in the shower as I got my breathing under control. My head was thrashing around in a dangerous torrent, while my body was floating in pure relaxation. Blowing my load with Ashlyn Hart on the mind seemed to relieve every ounce of tension I had.
After pulling on a pair of clean sweats and leaving my chest bare, I stepped back into the living room and looked straight to the couch. Ashlyn still lay curled up, and it looked like she hadn't moved an inch. I left sleeping beauty and made my way to the kitchen as my stomach grumbled to life. My fridge had gone from empty to full capacity. It looked like Ashlyn bought the whole store out.
I pulled out chicken, cream, and mushrooms from the fridge, then I grabbed pasta from the pantry and began preparing what I hoped she wanted. It had been a long time since I cooked for a woman. The last time was for Sadie, my huge fucking mistake. Convenience was the only way to describe our relationship. We dated for nine months. In that time, she got her parents off her back, and I got nothing but a huge credit card debt and regular sex. I never loved her, because my heart was shut for business and would only reopen for one woman. Eventually, she found herself a sixty year-old sugar daddy and I was free. There definitely wasn’t a heartbreak story. We both served a purpose, got what we needed, and then moved on.
“Shit, what time is it?” A soft voice sounded from the living room.
I glanced over as Ashlyn rose from the couch and stretched tall, allowing just a hint of her stomach to show. Quickly, she spun and looked into the kitchen. The minute she found me, her eyes widened.
“Oh my god. Josh, I was meant to cook.” She rushed into the kitchen and stood next to me. “I think I’ve earned title of worst houseguest ever.”
“Ashy, its fine. I haven’t cooked for a woman in a long time, so tonight’s on me. You can cook every other night you’re here.” I shot her a wink and continued stirring the pot.
“I remember you cooking this when we were in college, and then we watched a movie and drank cheap wine. I’ll never forget that hangover. I swore off wine that night, but clearly that was a lie.” She laughed softly at the memory. “What can I do to help?”
“You can be on bread duty.”
We worked in silence, me handling the pasta and Ashlyn cutting up the bread, and fell into an easy routine. I switched the burner to simmer, and turned to rest against the kitchen island.
Her entire focus was on cutting the bread, so I took the moment of silence to really look at her. She had the girl-next-door look going on, complete with the braid hanging over her shoulder and a face bare of makeup. My hoodie swam on her, but I’d never seen her look as desirable as she did now. This was the first time I’d ever seen her in my clothes, and I hoped to Christ it wouldn’t be the last. There was something . . . almost a form of ownership that hit you when a woman claimed a piece of your clothing, and I knew, without a doubt, that I’d never wear that hoodie again.
“My hoodie looks good on you.”
Her cheeks flushed briefly, then she twisted around and mimicked my stance. “I was cold, and it was on the couch so I grabbed it. I’ll wash it and give it back.”
“Keep it.”
Ashlyn wrapped her arms tightly around herself and smiled. “I’ve never had this. I mean, a guy cook for me. Usually a guy would buy me pizza, or I’d be the one that had to cook. Or at least he would’ve waited till I woke up, and then I would’ve had to cook.”
As soon as she said he, I felt myself switch on, and anger speared through me. Lachlan fucking Johnson strikes again. I despised the effect he had on her. He didn’t deserve anything but a punch in the face, and for his balls to be ripped clean from his body. The mere mention or thought of him would cause her sass to diminish, the fire in her eyes to snuff out, and the insecurities would fire off her, as they were right now.
“Well he is a complete asshole. He should have treated you like a queen, because you deserve to wear a crown, and he doesn’t deserve a second thought. His loss will be another man’s gain, and whoever that man is needs to make sure he is your happily-ever-after.”
“No guys, Josh. We’ve had this conversation,” she replied with a smile.
“But one day there will be someone.”
“Unless it’s Reese, Max, or Woods, I’m not having any of it.”
What the fuck?
“Those men know how to treat a woman right. If only I could have one night with each of them. Actually, I’d want a day and night—twenty-four hours of pure bliss. Hold up, imagine having them all in one room for a mass orgy. Now that is a woman’s wet dream.” Her voice dropped and she actually sounded breathless.
“Ashlyn, who are you talking about?” I asked in complete confusion.
She sighed. “My dream men. The only men I’ll ever let in my panties.”
“What? Do they live here? Why haven’t I met them? What do they do?”
“One is an accountant, one is a businessman, and the other runs a country club.”
How did I not know about these guys? “What about your new rule of no cock?”
“I’d break all my rules for these men.”
“You confuse the fuck out of me. One minute you are saying no cock, just pussy. And now you are saying you want some accountant who I’ve never heard about. Where did you meet him?”
“Chicago.”
“When the fuck did you go to Chicago?”
“About three months ago.”
I ran my hand over my face as I tried to think back three months. Ashlyn never went to Chicago. Three months ago, Lachlan was in town. What the hell was going on? She stood opposite me, biting her lip and looking like she was reliving every moment with this mystery man.
“I then met him again the week after, but he got married and had a little girl.”
“What the fuck?” I gasped. “You slept with a guy who was getting married and who had a little girl? Holy shit, this is insane.”
I paced the kitchen as I tried to comprehend what she’d just admitted. This wasn’t Ashlyn at all. She wasn’t that girl. She would never be the other woman. She had integrity. She had fucking morals.
“They were the best two books I’ve read.”
I froze and whipped around. Ashlyn smirked, and a devious glint flickered in her eyes.
“He will always be one of my top three book husbands.”
“You did not just make me believe that you took a secret trip to Chicago, where you were screwing an accountant called Reese, who was getting married and had a kid?”
“I didn’t make you do anything. I told you I wasn’t interested in cock, so it was you who made the assumption. As if you wouldn’t know that I went to Chicago.”
I stalked across the kitchen and grabbed her. She squealed as I pulled her against my chest and began tickling her side. She completely played me, and I fell for every word. Her high-pitched squeals filled my apartment, and her fits plummeted into my chest as she desperately attempted to make me stop.
“Stop it! I’m sor— sor— sorry,” she finally managed to get out.
I let her go and she stepped back, completely breathless, with flushed cheeks, crazy hair, and glazed eyes.
“I got you so good,” she said. “Book Husbands for the win.”
“So, what? They go straight to husbands? They don’t even reach boyfriend status?” I scoffed.
“Oh, I have book boyfriends, but those three are book husbands.”
“Christ.” I shook my head as I began grabbing plates and dishing out dinner. “I’m going to read one of these books someday. I need to find out about these book husbands of yours.”
“You almost sound jealous, Joshua.”
“Babe, I’ve got a real-life cock that knows how to please a pussy multiple times, and don’t even get me started on what I can do with my mouth. I am certainly not jealous of a fictional character, but that doesn’t mean I won’t learn some tips from these book husbands of yours. Romance really isn’t my thing, so your number one, Reese,
might inspire me to lift my game.”
She grabbed the bowl I handed her, then we moved to the living room and sat on the couch. I switched on the television, and we fell into silence as we ate.
“I’ve seen you be romantic before,” she said softly, and her big greens shot to mine. “You were very romantic with me.”
She placed her empty bowl on the coffee table and tucked her feet under her body. This was a conversation that we always seemed to avoid. Yes, we had spoken about our night together, but it was always in jest, or after too many drinks when we were stumbling down a drunken memory lane. I couldn’t even tell you the last time Ashlyn brought it up, so to say I was shocked was an understatement.
“I know romance when it’s with the right woman, and that would be you.”
A brief smile tinted her lips, before she turned back to the television and absentmindedly began watching one of the reality shows she loved.
“Did he ever give you romance?” I asked. I didn’t want to speak of Lachlan, but my curiosity got the best of me.
“At the beginning, yes, but”—she hesitated and pulled her lip between her teeth—“but it never made me feel like I did that night. That was my first taste of romance.”
Her admission was unexpected, and left me speechless. It seemed that the more I thought I knew about Ashlyn, the more she surprised me. This week had the potential to change everything I assumed and replace it with a whole new understanding. That thought alone sent my pulse racing. The secret of wanting her was mine. It was so deep inside of me that it needed to claw itself out, but I was ready to unleash it onto the world and see where it led me.
Sacrificing my happiness had to stop.
Right fucking now.
10
Ashlyn
Setting up a blog was intense. There was no way I could have predicted the workload I would encounter. My days and often nights were filled with all things Ashlyn’s Closet, but I absolutely loved it. I’d start as soon as Josh left for work, and still be going when he got home at night and yelled out a “hello.” It was only then that I’d stop and spend a few hours on the couch with him before I did it all over again.
“Ashy, are you ready?” Josh’s voice sounded after I heard the apartment door close. I looked down at the time on my laptop and saw that it was just after seven p.m. “I’m going to have a quick shower, and then we’ll be good to go.”
Moments later, I heard the shower turn on, and I continued tapping away at emails. He was obviously going out for the night, although I was unsure what it had to do with me. Ten minutes later, I heard the shower shut off and then Josh’s bedroom door close. When it opened again, I finished an email and closed my laptop, then I climbed off the bed, deciding to be a sociable house guest and see where he was going.
Josh was sitting on the couch with wet hair, and dressed in jeans and a black, button-down shirt. I was immediately hit by the seductive scent combination of his soap and aftershave. He leaned down to tie the laces of his shoes as I stepped further into the living room.
“Hey,” I said with a smile. He looked delightfully dressed up for a night out, while I was sporting the uniform of my glorious work-from-home life—my favorite sweat pants and cami, with my hair in the usual topknot. “You want a beer?”
“Have you suddenly lost your short-term memory?” he replied with a wicked grin.
My confusion soared sky high. What was he talking about? I popped open the cap of my beer and took a swig, then raised a brow and waited for him to inform me of what I had supposedly forgotten.
“It was less than twelve hours ago that I told you that I would show you a good time. To be honest, I’m a little heartbroken that you forgot, but I’ll remind you. Ashlyn, it would be my pleasure to show you a good time.”
I couldn't stop myself from laughing at the craziness and obvious innuendo of his statement. “Do those lines really work?”
“Wouldn’t know. Only said that to you, Ashy. Please take your cute little ass into the bathroom and change out of your sweats. You look cute as fuck, but I want you in those jeans that make your legs look like sin. I am showing you a good time and, if you are lucky, you might get a sneaky kiss at the end of the night.”
“What?” I laughed at his absurdness. “There will be no sneaky kisses. You have clearly lost your mind.”
“Not even a peck?” His brow shot up in question.
“I’m not promising anything, but maybe, if you’re lucky, you might get a kiss on the cheek.”
“Butt cheek?”
“You are impossible.” I took a step away and shook my head. He couldn't be serious. I didn't need to be shown a good time, especially by Josh Crawford. And why the hell was he talking about a sneaky kiss? There would definitely not be any kissing. But fuck, I missed making out. I had always been a huge fan of making out. It got me going every time. If a guy wanted in my pants, he had a better chance if he kissed the shit out of me. I missed the roughness of kissing a man—the graze of stubble, the domination. Why was I thinking of this? There was no way in hell I was going out with him; not when I just floated into fantasy land of making out.
“Ashlyn, get your ass into your room.”
I swung around, and my hands went to my hips. “When did you become so bossy?”
“Please go and get dressed,” he said, lowering his voice and pleading with his eyes.
I rolled my eyes and huffed. “Just because you said please, doesn't mean you aren't bossy.”
“I knew you were stubborn, but fuck me. Trying to convince you is like trying to get my cock through a pinhole.”
“Seriously? Your cock through a pinhole?”
“Ashlyn, please go and get dressed.”
“Fine!” I huffed in defeat and stormed out of the kitchen. I had no clue what I was doing. When I reached the guestroom, it suddenly hit me. “You do realize its Friday night?” I asked, stating the obvious.
“Yep.”
“A Friday night where you could be out scouting your next lay?”
“Ashlyn, please, go and get dressed.”
I considered my options. I could either keep fighting him and get lost in a war of stubbornness where no one would come out victorious, or I could give in and see where the night took us.
“Fine.”
His lips twisted into the most genuine smile I’d ever witnessed on Josh Crawford. Well, aside from the one he gave me all those years ago when he pushed into m— No, no! I could not go back there. I couldn’t go from thinking of making out with a man to thinking about having sex.
I shook all thoughts of his smile, of his ability to take a girls virginity—fuck. I shook all thoughts of Josh Crawford out of my head and disappeared down the hall.
What was I getting myself into?
My plan for a relaxing Friday night with ice cream and a movie was halted. What he had planned was anyone’s guess. Unpredictability and Josh Crawford walked hand in hand. Working in fashion allowed me to have a cupboard full of cute and way-too-expensive designer clothes at my beck and call. You would never know that now, though, as I fumbled through the clothes I’d brought to Josh’s. Finally, I found my standard black skinny jeans—yes, the ones that supposedly made my legs look like sin—a baby pink fitted tee with a scooped neck that allowed for a peak of my cleavage, and my favorite metallic silver heels. It was girly, but had an air of sass to it. I stepped into the bathroom and did a quick assessment of my hair, then decided there was nothing I could do besides a loose fishtail braid that hung over my shoulder. I left my makeup light.
As soon as I stepped into the room and the clicking of my heels sounded, his head swung around from the game he was watching and his eyes raked over the length of my body. I felt like I was being observed under a microscope. My skin instantly prickled to life and my cheeks heated. Without saying a word, Josh stood from the couch, clicked off the television, and walked to me. My heart hammered in my chest, and suddenly it seemed as if the air in his living room had shifted.
“You look good, Ashy.” His voice was thick as he spoke, and his eyes deepened from chocolate brown to almost black. “Let’s go.”
Josh switched off the lights, leaving only the one lamp in the corner on, and we left the apartment. There was a whisper of anticipation in the air, and I couldn’t ignore the buzz it sent through my body. The excitement of not knowing what we were doing or where we were going swirled through me as I slid into the back seat of an awaiting cab. I decided then and there that I would give no fucks and go with wherever tonight led me. I needed to let my hair down, I needed to allow myself to come undone, and who better to do that with than Josh?
Twenty minutes later, the cab pulled up to the curb in front of Delight’s. Delights was a gentleman's club that I frequented with Josh, Ky, and Eden. You might think it’s strange that I would love coming to a place like this, but it was a safe option. The girls with their perfect bodies, whether enhanced or not, distracted the men so women like me who just wanted to drink, dance, and hang out with friends could do so without getting groped or eye fucked. And the guys didn't seem to mind.
“This is just what I need,” I gushed as we made our way into the late spring air.
The second we stepped in, I was overwhelmed by the low, sultry music that offered the girls the perfect tempo to sway their hips to, and the dimmed lights that encouraged seduction to feather your skin. It sent a delightful shiver through my body, and I felt switched on. Josh’s eyes flashed to mine, and he lifted his chin slightly toward the bar in silent question. I nodded in response, then his fingers linked with mine and he maneuvered us through the expanding crowd.
Once at the bar, he dropped my hand and leaned over to give his order. I was expecting the guy behind the bar to lean in and ask my order, but it never came. A low glass of whiskey and a tall glass of vodka Coke were placed in front of us, then Josh handed him a twenty and nodded in thanks.
