by J. L. Perry
He gently cups my jaw, lifting my gaze back to his. His expression softens as his eyes search mine. “You know you want to.”
He’s right, I do.
“I don’t,” I say, lying through my teeth. “And besides, I don’t even know your name.”
“Ashton. Ashton Barclay,” he says without hesitation. “But since we’re friends now, you can call me Ash.” I let out a small laugh. “What’s so funny?”
“Mr. B. for Bossy.” How fitting.
He glances back down at his watch. “Times a ticking, Em. Six minutes and counting.”
I clench my eyes shut, inhaling a deep breath. When I reopen them, all my indecision vanishes. My tongue darts out, and I try to calm the cluster-fuck that’s raging in my head. It’s just a kiss, I remind myself. It’s not like I’m ever going to see him again.
“Fuck it,” I whisper, more to myself than to him as my hands rise to cup his now clean-shaven face, drawing his lips toward mine. You only live once, and I have a feeling if I deny myself of this, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
I see his smug smirk of victory moments before his mouth connects with mine. My logical side says I should knee him in the balls for being so presumptuous.
Parting my lips, I tilt my head back to gain full access to his delicious mouth, surrendering myself to him completely. Ashton tastes and smells like everything I imagined he would—beer, mint, and all man.
I kiss him hard, my hands now sliding into his hair. He groans into my mouth as he presses his body flush against mine, pushing me further into the wall.
I can feel his erection against my stomach, and there’s something thrilling about that. How can someone like me turn someone like him on? Unimaginable. It spurs me on as I run my tongue along his plump bottom lip, tugging at his hair.
Ashton takes control and explores my mouth as his hands move over my hips, snaking behind me to cup my ass. A deep growl bubbles in the back of his throat as he gives my cheeks a tight squeeze, drawing me even closer.
His hardness pressed against my soft.
The intensity of our union kicks up another notch causing me to moan into his mouth. Nobody has ever kissed me like this before, and I doubt they ever will again.
It’s hot.
So damn hot I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust.
Is it possible to orgasm from just a kiss alone? I wouldn’t know, but I’m pretty sure I’m on the verge of having a mini ‘O’ right now. I can’t get enough—I want to crawl down his damn throat.
Shifting his body slightly, his leg slips in between mine. Did he read my mind? Because his thick, muscly thigh hits me right on the sweet spot, giving the friction I crave. My body squirms.
Do not hump his leg, Emma. I repeat, do not hump his leg!
Ignoring that annoying inner voice in my head, I roll my hips forward, grinding into him like a dirty ho. I even whimper into his mouth as I do it. You’re a sick, twisted individual, Emma, but God, it feels good. So damn good.
My body climbs higher and higher, and I’m almost at the point of no return when panic sets in. But I can’t escape, he’s pinned me so tightly I can’t budge. My hands slide down to his chest, pushing on it. But he doesn’t relent his assault on my body.
Jesus, I’m coming.
Right here, right now, in the middle of the club, with an audience.
The shame.
My lips part, and my head falls back. “Oh, fudge,” I cry out as the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced rockets through me. I fist my hands in his shirt as white light permeates behind my eyes. My body zooms past the stars, pings off the moon, before plummeting back down to earth in a fully sated, yet satisfied bliss.
Holy hell.
When I finally reopen my eyes, I find Ashton watching me. We’re both breathless. Neither of us move for the longest time.
“Do you have any idea how hot that was?” Although I can’t see my face, I know it’s the color of my dress. I’m too mortified to respond. He rests his forehead against mine. “What are you doing to me, Em?”
I don’t know, but the things he makes me feel scare me.
I barely even know him.
He takes a step back, and a look of confusion crosses his face like he can’t believe this either. When he runs his fingers through his hair, I make my escape.
“I have to go.”
“Wait,” he says, capturing my wrist. “Don’t go.”
“I have to.” It was only supposed to be a kiss. It wasn’t meant to feel so good. I shouldn’t want to kiss him again, and again, and again. I don’t want to feel the things that I’m feeling right now.
The sheer amount of feels frightens the ever-loving crap out me.
Ashton pulls my body back to his, briefly closing his eyes. It’s like an internal battle is raging within him. He blows out a long breath before he finally speaks, “Come home with me, sweet-thing.”
“I can’t.”
His eyelids spring open, and for a moment, he almost looks hurt by the rejection. But a sliver of hurt is not enough to sway me. Things could get far worse if I even entertain the idea. I can’t put myself in that position.
“Please, Em.” I shake my head. I’m afraid if I speak, I’ll say something stupid like yes. “Give me one good reason?”
I could give him a thousand reasons.
I have no idea what time it is, but I’m pretty sure our kiss-fest went for longer than six minutes. Sliding the sleeve of his jacket up slightly, I look down at my arm. “It’s after midnight, so, unfortunately, it’s bye-bye sinner and hello saint. Besides, I have to be up early.”
“Did you just pretend to look at a watch… a watch we both know you’re not wearing?”
I clear my throat, diverting my gaze away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ashton chuckles at my response, and again I know my face has turned as red as my dress.
Smooth, Emma, real smooth.
“And just when I thought you couldn’t get any more adorable.”
He thinks I’m adorable?
“I have to go,” I whisper.
Slipping out of his jacket, I hand it back. If I don’t walk away now, I know I’m going to cave. And as much as I’d love to go home with him, it’s not an option. I made a promise to myself many years ago that I’d never put myself in that position again.
Never.
Damn him, why does he have to be so hot?
This time, he doesn’t try to stop me as I turn and hurry away. Tears sting my eyes, and I don’t even know why. I feel like I’ve lost something, which is stupid.
In reality, I could never have a man like him, anyway.
It’s just after five in the morning when I lock my apartment and head downstairs. It’s still dark outside, so my eyes are everywhere as I walk along the concrete path toward my car. It’s parked by the curb outside the front of our building. I wouldn’t say Gardena is an unsafe place to live, but it does have its fair share of crime, so it’s a little unnerving whenever I leave this early.
As a precautionary manner, my car key is wedged between my middle and forefinger, the metal part is sticking outward. Any attackers lurking in the shadows better be wary, I’m prepared to take out an eye if necessary.
I lock the driver’s side door the moment I’m sitting in the car, placing the key in the ignition. But when I turn it, the engine doesn’t kick over. “Crap.” I’m not in the mood for this right now. I’m running on no sleep, and I still haven’t had my first coffee of the day, so bitchy Emma is out in full force. “Come on, Kitty, purr for Momma.” I give it three more attempts before giving up. “You know what, fuck you, Kitty.”
Reaching for my handbag, I swipe it off the passenger seat, slamming the door once I exit the vehicle. My shift at the animal shelter is from six to midday, Carla won’t even be out of bed by then. I head back upstairs to grab the spare key to her apartment. She won’t mind if I borrow her car. I’ll just leave her a note.
<
br /> As I slip the key in her door, it flies open, tugging my arm and jerking me forward. Clenching my eyes closed, I place my hand on my chest as I take a step backward. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”
“Can’t say I’ve had that effect on a woman before,” says a deep male voice.
My eyelids spring open and follow a path from his low riding jeans, over a thin trail of hair that runs down the center of a defined ‘V’, tanned sculptured abs, bulging pecs, before landing on his equally handsome face.
“Like what you see, Red?”
I clear my throat. “Red?”
“The color of the dress you were wearing last night, right?”
“Oh, you were at the club?” Carla works fast. We got an Uber within minutes of the kissing fiasco. I don’t know how she found the time to pick this guy up. Kudos to her, though.
“I was, the name’s Grayson.” He holds out his hand to me, and I reluctantly take it.
“Emma,” I say, forcing out a smile. “Is Carla awake?”
“I doubt it. I wore her out, I think. She kicked me out so she could get some sleep. First time a woman’s ever kicked me out of her bed.” He shakes his head in disbelief. It doesn’t surprise me in the least, I know Carla. She loves her sleep more than anything and always discards her men once she’s had her fill. She won’t share her bed with anyone, not even me.
“Kitty won’t start, so I was going to borrow her car.”
“Kitty?” There’s a ridiculous grin on that gorgeous face of his, and in my current mood, I have the urge to slap it right off. “Well, I’d love to help you out with your… umm… Kitty, Red, but no can do I’m afraid. The bro code and all that, but I could call Ashton, I’m sure he’d love to work your Kitty over.”
My eyes narrow, and his smile grows. Ugh! “Kitty is my car. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
He throws back his head and laughs as he does the buttons up on his dress shirt. “I’m just messing with you. Want me to take a look at it?”
I shrug. Do I? I didn’t miss the fact that he mentioned Ashton. Ashton Barclay, I presume. The man who was so implanted in my brain last night I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned the entire night. Out of all the guys at the club, Carla had to bring home one of his friends. Even worse, he probably witnessed me shamelessly dry humping his friend’s leg like a dog on heat.
I clear my throat, feeling my cheeks flame. “Umm… sure, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Grayson gently closes Carla’s door, careful not to wake her, before draping his arm over my shoulder. “Come show me this Kitty of yours.”
Rolling my eyes, we walk toward the stairs.
I hand him the keys once I’ve unlocked the door. “You have Hello Kitty car seat covers? How old are you, Red? Ten?”
“Twenty-six actually. They were a gift… a gift from your screw-buddy, Carla. Maybe I should be more concerned that you even know who Hello Kitty is.”
“Very funny. And for your information, I have a pesky little sister.”
He slides the key into the ignition giving it a few tries, and like me, he gets a brief whirring sound, but it doesn’t kick over. He pops the hood and exits the car.
“I think your battery’s dead. Do you have a flashlight?” I pull out my phone, coming to stand beside him. “I don’t have any jumper cables in my car.”
“Me either,” I say. “I’ll just borrow Carla’s car.”
“Where are you heading?”
“The animal shelter at Hermosa Beach.”
“Do you work there?”
“No, I volunteer in my spare time.”
“This early?”
“I’m scheduled for the early shift today. I go in, feed the animals, and clean their enclosures before we open.”
“That’s big of you, Red. Very admirable. The more I get to know you, the more I like you.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Although I’ll admit you went down a few notches with those Hello Kitty seat covers.” He gives me a strange look when I laugh. “You should smile more often. You have a pretty smile.”
After locking my car, he hands back the keys. “I’m heading that way, you want a ride?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“It’s no trouble. No trouble at all. I live at Hermosa Beach, so it’s on my way.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay, I’d appreciate it.”
I’m not one to get in a car with a stranger, but for some reason, I feel like I’m in safe hands. Call it woman’s intuition or possibly insanity, but I’m quietly confident I won’t end up on the back of a milk carton tomorrow.
He turns to cross the street, so I follow him. “This is me…” he points, “… here.”
My eye widen as they glaze over the sleek silver sports car. “This is your car?”
“It is. It’s a Saleen S7, she’s my baby.”
“Nice. Does she have a name?”
“Unlike Kitty, no.”
“Ha ha,” I say when he chuckles. He follows me around the passenger side, and I’m shocked when the door opens upward instead of outward like most cars. “Impressive.” My eyes are everywhere once I’m seated inside. It smells new, and the curved leather seats are surprisingly comfortable. I’ve never been in a car so luxurious.
“So, what’s your story, Red?” he asks, pulling away from the curb.
“Story?”
“Yeah. I know you look after unwanted animals in your spare time, but what else do you do?”
I shrug. “I’m a child psychologist by day. I work with children who have eating disorders.”
“Wow,” he says, nodding his head in approval. “Another admiral trait.”
“Did you grow up in Cali?”
“Nope.”
His eyes dart to me when I don’t elaborate. I don’t feel comfortable talking about myself.
“I like you, Red. I think you’re just what Ash needs in his life.”
“Hardly,” I scoff. “No offense, but your friend is an insufferable ass.”
Grayson throws back his head and laughs. He has a nice laugh, it’s deep and robust. It makes me smile. “Don’t let his hard exterior fool you. Underneath all that arrogance is a wounded puppy.”
“Wounded puppy? What do you mean?”
“It’s not my story to tell, pretty girl. But he’s been through a tough time, a really tough time, so take it easy on him. We’ve been best friends most of our lives, and I can honestly say I’ve never met a more stand-up, loyal, lovable guy.”
“Are we talking about the same Ashton?”
“The one and only.”
I turn my head to gaze out the window as I ponder Grayson’s words. I find myself wondering what happened in his life to leave him wounded. Was it a girl? Or something else, maybe? It saddens me to hear he’s been through tough times because I’ve lived with them myself. I know all too well how circumstances in your life can change you.
We travel in silence for a while before Grayson finally speaks again. “You know he likes you, Red, and I think you like him, too.”
“Who?” I ask, playing dumb. Does he like me? Has he spoken about me to his friend? Why does that thought make me feel all mushy inside?
He shakes his head and chuckles. “Who do you think? Ashton.”
I shrug like I’m unfazed, but my insides are doing little cartwheels.
Stupid insides.
I’m grateful when he pulls up outside the shelter. I don’t like where this conversation is going. “For the record, I don’t like him.”
“Yes, you do.”
I so do.
“It’s irrelevant, anyway, I’ll never see him again.” Running into him twice in one day was a fluke, right?
He watches me as I remove my seat belt and open the door. “Thanks for the ride,” I say, briefly glancing at him over my shoulder.
“Do you need me to pick you up later?”
“All g
ood. I’m sure Carla will be awake by then. She’ll come and get me.” I exit the car, bending my body slightly to make eye contact. “I appreciate the offer, though.”
Grinning, he opens a small flap in the center console, pulling something out. “Here’s my card just in case you get stuck. My number’s down a the bottom.”
“Thank you.” I slide it into the side pocket of my bag, but I already know I won’t be calling him.
“Oh, and Red?” I reach for the handle to pull down the door as he leans across the seat. “Never say never,” he says with a wink.
What in the hell does that even mean?
Chapter Five
ASHTON
“Get dressed,” Grayson orders, strolling into my bedroom uninvited. His eyes zero in on my waist where the sheet has tented, and he shakes his head. My cock goes instantly soft.
Thank Christ.
I should’ve called him over a few hours ago. I was worried I’d be walking around with the boner all day.
I’ve been able to feel her, smell her, and taste her—all damn night. All this from a kiss, albeit an incredible one. The way her hot pussy ground against my leg as I ravished her sweet mouth, I almost came in my pants like a twelve-year-old. All I wanted to do was bring her home so I could taste her, then bury myself deep inside her.
Just thinking about it fills me with rage. She’s the first rejection I’ve ever had, and if I’m honest with myself, it stings like a motherfucker.
After the shit I went through with Anastasia, I swore off women. That lasted about eight months—I’m only human, after all. I was tired of feeling dead inside—that, combined with Grayson’s constant nagging like a whiny bitch—reminded me I needed to start living again. Not that I’ve been doing that the past six years, I’d call it more existing for lack of a better word.
I’m a changed man.
At least I’m leaving the house.
I wasn’t always opposed to relationships, but the things I endured during our time together, and again after Anastasia and I split, damaged me. But despite that, I still craved the companionship. I ached for it. My hookups may be fleeting and purely carnal, but they’re on my terms. It’s imperative I maintain control.
Hence, my rules.
