Until Ashlyn

by Aurora Rose Reynolds

  I am. I don’t know how he knows that, but I am… so close. His hips shift and his hard cock slides between my legs from behind, making my legs almost buckle.

  “Put your hands on the wall in front of you,” he breathes against the shell of my ear.

  I don’t even think. My hands shoot out in front of me, my palms slapping against the cold tile hard. His hand between my legs slides around my hip and over my ass. I know what’s coming and my bottom lip goes between my teeth, biting down in anticipation. It feels like an eternity, and then the head of his cock bumps my entrance.

  “Yes.” I press my ass back toward him, offering myself up, not caring one iota how desperate I appear right now.

  “Fuck.” He slides in slowly, wrapping my hip in a firm hold and keeping me in place. “So goddamn tight. So fucking wet.” He pulls out an inch and slides back in two.

  “Please hurry,” I pant. I can’t take much more of this. Now that I’ve felt him again, I need him, all of him. His mouth drops to my shoulder and his tongue glides across and up to my ear as he slides fully inside of me. His breath skims my ear as his hand at my hip moves forward between my legs once more. “Is this good?”

  “Yes.” I don’t even lie. There is no point; I have no doubt he can feel exactly what it is he does to me.

  He doesn’t move once he’s planted deep inside of me. His forehead drops to my shoulder, his chest pressing against my back heaves as his heart beats rapidly against my skin. “You undo me.” He slides his hand down my arm and it covers mine against the tile as his mouth drags across my shoulder. His fingers between my legs move, making my core tighten around him. “Mine.” That one word spoken against my wet skin makes my legs weak. Sliding out then back in, his fingers lace with mine. “Kiss me.”

  I turn my head without thinking, and his tongue slides against mine on an inward stroke. Moaning around his tongue, he growls around mine, speeding up his fingers while he strokes in and out of me with precision, hitting that spot deep inside me that sends a jolt of pleasure and pain in a solid tempo of ecstasy.

  “I’ve missed this,” I breathe without thinking. His body stills for a moment before he pulls out and thrusts in hard, making me gasp.

  “No more keeping this from me.” His tone isn’t one I’ve heard from him before and I want to lean back and search his face, but before I can, his fingers circle over my clit faster and faster, making me lose all coherent thought as he sends me hurling over the edge into an orgasm that takes my breath away. Before I’ve even caught my breath, he spins me around and lifts me to rest against the cool tile. “Legs tight.”

  My legs around his hips wrap tighter. Taking my hands from his shoulders, he pulls them above my head, pinning them there with one of his. Thrusting hard, he sends me sliding up the wall then dips his head to catch my breast in his mouth, sucking and skimming his teeth over my nipple.

  My head falls back against the tile as he moves to my other breast, doing the same after a slide out and a deep slide in. “Dillon,” I pant, digging my nails into his hand.

  “Love that,” he mutters, taking my mouth in a punishing kiss, dropping my hands and grabbing my ass in both his large palms.

  “I…”

  “I’m with you. Come with me,” he breathes against my mouth, cutting me off. Using his hands at my ass, he lifts and drops me along his length, each stroke making me see stars. I know when I fall it’s going to kill me. Wrapping my arms and legs tightly around him, I press my forehead to his and come on a shout as he roars his release against my mouth. We stay like that, breathing heavily against each other’s mouths, kissing softly and running our hands over each other’s wet skin until the water starts to turn cold.

  “We need to get out,” he grumbles, kissing me once more before releasing his hold on me and forcing me to slide down his wet body. Turning off the shower, he sends me out ahead of him with a tap on my bottom.

  Getting out, I grab a towel for myself and one for him, and start to dry off, wanting to just go plop down in bed, but there is nothing worse than the idea of having to sleep on wet sheets later tonight.

  “How much time do you need to get ready to go out?” His arms wrap around me from behind, and I tilt my head to the side to look at him.

  “About an hour. I have to dry my hair.” Tonight, we are having dinner with Michelle, Luka, Jax, and Ellie. I’m still annoyed with Jax, or maybe he’s annoyed with me, so we haven’t talked much. But Dillon saw him yesterday and told him he and Ellie should come out to dinner with us, and Jax agreed. I just hope tonight is not a huge drama fest. I love my brother; I love his wife and daughter, but I refuse to let anyone ruin this thing between Dillon and me.

  Wait, what? I freeze, wondering where that thought came from.

  “So we can go nap for a bit?” He nuzzles my neck, making me lose my train of thought as he lifts me into his arms and carries me to the bed.

  And for once in my life as he crawls in behind me, I don’t care that my hair is soaking my pillow and sheets.

  *

  “Ashlyn.” Ellie smiles, standing from the table when she spots us across the restaurant. As soon as I’m close, she wraps me in a hug, whispering, “I’m so happy for you, and I think everyone else will be too.” God, I really hope she’s right.

  “I hope so,” I say aloud, squeezing her back, then I let her go and look at Jax, who is standing behind her.

  “Come here.” He holds out his arms and I move right to him, giving him a tight hug. “You know I love you, sis,” he mutters against my hair, and tears sting my nose.

  “I know. I love you too,” I agree, letting him go, then turn when Michelle comes sashaying toward the table, followed by Luka.

  “Oh, my God. Where did you get that dress? I need one just like it.” She whistles and I look down at my dress, ignoring Dillon’s grumble behind me, since I heard his annoying dislike of the dress after I put it on at the house. Actually, he totally loved the dress; I think he had me pinned against the wall two seconds after seeing me in it. He just didn’t like the idea of me wearing it out of the house, but oh well.

  “Nordstrom Rack.” I smile. I love my dress, with its V-neck lace halter, deep cut in the back, tight bodice, and pleated skirt.

  “You are not getting a dress like that,” Luka says from behind her, and she rolls her eyes, wrapping me in a hug as Dillon says something agreeing with him.

  “Luka.” I smile warmly once Michelle has let me go then launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his huge, muscular waist, and try to pick him up. I fail miserably, but his grin is enough of a reward as he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

  “I’m so happy for you two,” I tell him, and his grin broadens.

  “It’s about time she agreed to marry me.” He eyes soften over my head, and I know he’s looking at Michelle. Luka was a player before her, but somehow she wrapped him around her tiny little finger within a week of dating, he’s been asking her forever to marry him. Laughing, I step back to stand next to Dillon and feel his hand against the exposed skin of my back.

  “Luka, Dillon. Dillon, this is Luka,” I introduce them, since Dillon knows everyone else at the table.

  “I gotta say this and get it out of the way, so we can relax and enjoy dinner. You hurt our girl, and I will personally kill you,” he states, completely straight-faced, and I feel my eyes widen. Looking up at Dillon to see his reaction, I almost fall over when he nods and takes Luka’s hand in a firm shake. “Now, that’s out of the way. I need a beer.” He smiles at Dillon then chucks me under my chin with his fist.

  I expect it to be awkward after that, but as soon as we sit and the waiter comes over, the guys each order a beer and us girls order a bottle of wine to share, along with appetizers to munch on while we wait for our food.

  “Fuck,” Michelle says, and I turn to look at her with my fried mozzarella wedge halfway to my mouth.

  “What?”

  “Your ex.”

  “What?” I frown then turn my

head and catch my ex, Josh, heading toward our table.

  “Oh, great,” I grumble, setting my uneaten cheesy wedge of goodness on my plate. Josh and I dated about eight months ago and had approximately two-point-two dates before I ended things with him. He really didn’t do anything to me; he was just annoying.

  “Ashlyn, I thought that was you,” he greets, coming to stand at the table near my side. I tilt my head back to look at him, then squeak when Dillon grabs my chair and slides me so close I may as well be on his lap.

  “Hi, Josh.”

  “How are you?” he asks, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

  “Really good, and you?”

  “Good, good.” He nods then looks around the table, smiling at everyone and saying hi. “My mom and I are actually moving to Knoxville next weekend.”

  Okay, so maybe there were a few reasons why I stopped seeing him besides the fact he was annoying. He also lived with his mom and still had her cooking, doing his laundry, and cleaning up after him. She even filled his car up with gas when it needed it.

  “That’s great.”

  “Yeah, it really is.” He nods then tucks his hands farther into his pockets, making his shoulders shoot forward. “I was going to call you to see—”

  “You’re not calling her,” Dillon cuts in, and I hear someone, probably Michelle, giggle.

  “Uh… what?” Josh frowns, pulling his eyes from me to look at Dillon.

  “You’re not calling her. There’s nothing for you two to talk about. Now, if you could step away from the table, we’re in the middle of dinner,” Dillon continues, and my shoulders stiffen. I couldn’t care less about Josh, but there is no reason for him to be so harsh.

  “Oh. Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t think.” He looks at me, and I give him a weak smile, because I have no idea what else to do. “See you around.”

  “You won’t,” Dillon mutters. “Bye,” I say, watching him move back through the restaurant.

  “You know Ash has dated a lot, right?” Jax asks, and I turn to look at my brother, wondering where the hell he’s going with that statement. “You gonna do that to all of her exes?” He lifts his chin in the direction Josh just left.

  “Maybe.” Dillon shrugs, and I bite the inside of my cheek. Feeling eyes on me, I turn to look at Michelle, who is sitting next to Ellie, and they both have bright smiles on their faces.

  “You’re gonna be busy,” Jax says quietly, wrapping his arm around Ellie, who rolls her eyes but cuddles into him.

  “I know,” Dillon says, and my insides twist.

  “I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime,” Luka puts in, and Michelle turns to glare at him. “Just sayin’, baby. You and Ash have run the men in this town through the ringer.”

  “Excuse me?” Michelle voices my question, but he’s right. I’ve dated a lot, probably too much, but what was I supposed to do? How else is a girl supposed to find the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with? I can’t help that most every guy is an idiot.

  Feeling fingers trail lightly down the skin of my back, I turn my eyes to Dillon, seeing his worried ones looking back at me. I don’t know if he’s worried I’m pissed, or that Luka is right. Leaning closer, he presses a kiss to my ear and whispers, “Mine,” sending a shiver down my spine and making me wonder if it’s wrong that the one word turns me on. I don’t have time to think about it for too long. Our meals arrive, and I use eating as an excuse to ignore the feeling in my chest.

  Standing outside the restaurant saying goodbye to everyone an hour and a half later, I give out hugs then let Dillon lead me to his car and help me inside. Once I’m in, I buckle up and turn to watch him fold his tall, lean frame behind the wheel.

  “I need to stop at my house and grab some stuff,” he states, starting up the car and putting on his seatbelt without looking at me.

  “Okay,” I agree softly as we pull out into traffic. I have no idea what to say to him or how I feel. We didn’t really talk at dinner after the whole Josh thing. I don’t know if I’m mad at him for how he acted, or happy he feels so possessive over me. If you would have asked me three months ago how I’d feel if a guy, any guy, went caveman and basically pissed on my leg, I would have told you I’d hate it, but with Dillon my emotions are totally jumbled.

  “What the hell?” I squint through the dark and blink when I see a For Sale sign planted in Dillon’s yard, close to the road. “You put your house up for sale?” I turn my body and eyes toward him.

  “Yep,” is all he says as we park out front of his house, near the obnoxious fountain in the middle of the driveway. Shutting down the car, he gets out, slamming the door, then jogs around to my side, taking my hand and helping me out.

  “You didn’t tell me you were putting your house on the market,” I accuse as he takes my hand and leads me up the steps toward the front door.

  “You hate this house. Why would I keep it?” He frowns, shoving the realtor key box on the door handle out of the way so he can punch in the code for the lock.

  He is going to make me nuts, totally nuts! I think as he pulls me into the house along with him and shuts the door behind us.

  “You said this house reminded you of your grandparents’ house.”

  “It does,” he agrees, and I follow behind him up one of the staircases and across the second floor landing toward his bedroom.

  “I don’t get it.” I rub the bridge of my nose in frustration. “Then why are you selling it?”

  “Why would I keep it?” he grumbles, walking through the door to his room.

  Following, I stop in the middle of the room, planting my hands on my hips.

  “Because you love it!” I practically shout.

  “You don’t want to move in here, Ashlyn. There is no point in me keeping it!” he shouts back from the bathroom, where he disappeared, and I immediately feel like shit. I did tell him I hated it, but that was before I knew why he bought it to begin with.

  Coming out of the bathroom, he tosses some stuff on the chaise lounge near the bed then heads for the closet, turning on the light in there.

  “Take it off the market,” I say, sternly, when he walks out with a handful of clothes on hangers, laying them across the back of the chaise.

  “Why?”

  “Because you are not going to sell it just because I don’t want to live here.”

  “We’re married. I’m not going to live in a separate house from you.”

  God, why do I hate it so much that those reasons are not words of love? Like, “I’m selling it, because I love you and I can’t imagine not living the rest of my life with you,” or “I love you, and I want us to find a house that we are both happy in.”

  “You are so frustrating,” I growl, feeling a headache coming on, and I squeeze my eyes closed, putting the palms of my hands against my face.

  “It’s for the best.” His arms wrap around me and he pulls me flush against him.

  Dropping my hands to my sides, I stare into his handsome face. “I don’t want you to get rid of this house because of me.”

  “I’m getting rid of this house, because I want to,” he states, looking sincere, but I’m not sure I believe him. I saw his face when he was talking about the house his grandparents owned. He loved their house; he wanted to raise a family in one like theirs. “Stop stressing about this. It’s just a house.” He bends down, nuzzling my neck, and my arms slide around his shoulders as his hands move down to my ass and he hoists me up.

  “What are you doing?” I question as he puts his knees onto the bed behind me and settles me under him.

  “I really do love this dress.” He smiles, running his fingers along the edge of lace near my breast.

  “I thought you hated it.”

  “No, I hate that other men get to see so much of you.” He places a kiss against my mouth then leans back.

  “You’ve never liked my choice of clothing,” I grumble, and he slides his fingers over my temple and into my hair.

  “Because I’ve always considered you mine.” He nips the underside of my jaw, and my heart starts to beat wildly against my ribcage. Since almost the first moment we met, he’s told me I need to cover more skin. I thought he was just being a dick, but now… now I’m not so sure, and I’m not brave enough to ask him the questions I really need to ask him.

  “Dillon,” I pant as his fingers slide up the inside of my thigh and over the center of my panties.

  “Hmm?”

  I don’t get to say more. His mouth covers mine, and before I know it, we’re both naked using our mouths for better things than talking.

  Waking with my heart pounding, I blink my eyes open, finding it completely dark. Grumbling something I can’t make out, Dillon pulls me closer and shoves his face in my hair. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, looking around, realizing we are still in his room at his house.

  “Breathe, Ashlyn, it was just a bad dream,” I whisper, holding the palm of my hand to my chest and feeling my heart beating hard. I can’t recall what happened exactly in my dream, but I remember Isla, Dillon’s ex, was there, and I remember feeling raw, powerful fear.

  Lifting Dillon’s arm from my waist, I get up from the bed quietly, grab his button-down shirt that he wore to dinner off the floor, and head for the bathroom while putting it on. Closing the door silently, I turn on the light and take care of business then head for the closest sink to wash my hands. Turning the water to cold, I splash some on my face letting it wash away the last of the dream.

  Feeling better, I turn the light back off and head for the bed, stopping in the middle of the room when I notice the light under the door in the closet. My heart rate speeds right back up as I walk toward the door and place my palm on the handle, opening slowly. Peeking in, I find it empty, except for Dillon’s clothes and shoes. Without thinking, I walk in, closing the door behind me, and start snooping around. I have no idea what I’m looking for, but I’m on a mission as I open and close drawers.

  “She didn’t sleep in here. Her shit was down the hall.”

  “AHHHHHH!” I scream, coming out of my skin, spinning to find Dillon wearing a pair of loose sleep pants while standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes on me. “You scared the crap out of me!” I snap, holding my hand to my chest.

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