“Let me do the stockings.” Josh returned to the bed, naked. “So, Ms. Townsend. What is your opinion of my legs?”
Ashley giggled. “The spindly comment hurt, huh?”
“Yes.”
“I understand,” she murmured. “I’m kind of sensitive about my legs too.” Her lips twitched as she tried not to laugh.
His eyes narrowed a fraction—all the warning she had. The next second she found herself stretched over his knee.
“Josh.” Her voice held shock.
“I thought you were ready to step into the wild,” he whispered. His big hand cupped her bottom, his fingers callused as he smoothed across the sensitive skin of her buttocks. “You have a mighty fine backside, Ms. Townsend.”
“Thankfully, the reporters and cameramen didn’t get a shot of that. Just my legs.”
“My eyes only,” he growled.
“Caveman much,” she taunted.
“No more than any red-blooded male.”
As he spoke, his hands squeezed. His fingers wandered, drifted. A sharp crack then a sting on her backside had her rearing upward.
“Shhh,” he whispered, rubbing the smarting spot until Ashley relaxed.
He’d smacked her, and she couldn’t decide what to think, how to react because the sting had turned to warmth, and it traveled to an achy spot between her thighs. As she pondered, the silence between them lengthened and astonishingly, sensual excitement licked her limbs.
Another sharp tap had her starting a second time. This time, the pain of it roared through her, an instant later morphing to heat and decadence and dare she say it, pleasure. Who knew? His hand smoothed again. His fingers made teasing forays between her legs. A tiny moan slipped free without permission.
Josh moved then, lifting and dropping her back on the mattress. He levered over her, giving Ashley a brief glimpse of hard muscles before they pressed her down. His mouth claimed hers, hard and desperate. The instant she parted her lips for him, his tongue tangled with hers. Heat. Delicious and inspiring. Ashley gripped his shoulders, intent on making certain he continued this drugging pleasure. She needed it. Craved it. His hands wandered her shoulders, her breasts while she did some exploring of her own.
“Let me taste you,” Josh whispered, his voice ragged, which made her feel better because her pulse was racing like a car without brakes.
He made his way down her body, kissing and nipping, giving her more blissful pleasure along with the sting of sharp teeth. The small nips switched or confused her pain receptors. Each tiny jolt had delight frisking her senses. Feminine moisture readied her body for his possession, and she craved the feel of him sliding between her thighs.
“Now,” she demanded.
“Not yet. When I say it’s time. I’ve waited for you, and I plan to enjoy every moment.”
“Yes,” she whispered, her fingers ruffling his black hair as he licked her inner thigh. Ooh! The moves in his sensual arsenal were exquisite. Who knew? She certainly hadn’t.
“Tell me if you enjoy this,” he ordered and proceeded to lick her slit. He dallied at her entrance, lapping at the moisture her body created.
“Yes,” she said on a hoarse gasp. “I enjoy everything you do to me.”
His head lifted, and she met the glitter of his blue gaze. “Everything?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Perfect.” His eyes glittered with blue fire and promises as he licked his lips. He lowered his head again, this time lapping exactly where she needed his touch most.
It didn’t take much. Two slides of his tongue, the slight suction of his mouth, and she was flying, hurled into an intense orgasm that stormed her body, her mind, her soul. Her torso arched, and she released a loud moan.
Josh laughed, and when the spasms tapered off, he peeled her stockings down her legs, kissing patches of revealed skin and launching another sneaky attack on her virtue.
“Josh.”
“I’m here, sweetheart.”
“Are you sure your arm isn’t sore?”
“No, it’s forgotten. You distract me.” He reached for a condom, his gaze full of warmth and sensual promises. “Let’s see if I can distract you too.”
Yes. It wouldn’t be difficult. All that prime male real estate. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. She couldn’t wait to get started. Ashley reached for him, but he caught her wrists and guided them above her head and held them there.
“No touching,” he ordered. “Not this time. I want you too much.”
She offered what she suspected was a cheeky grin. “My hands have a mind of their own when it comes to you.”
“Naughty girls get spanked.”
“Some girls misbehave to get spanked,” she countered.
He gave a bark of laughter. “Thought you enjoyed that. Has anyone spanked you before?”
“You’re my first,” she said solemnly then spoiled the moment with a girlish giggle. She clapped a hand over her mouth. She was not a giggling girl.
“It’s good to see you happy and relaxed.” Josh ripped open the foil package and donned the condom. “Smiling more. Your smile is stunning. It lights up your entire face.” He rose over her, kissed her gently.
Too lightly.
“Harder. More,” she ordered. “I won’t break.”
Josh eyed her for a long moment, gave a slight nod and fitted his shaft to her. He surged inside her with one powerful, seamless stroke that had her breath hitching, her toes curling. For an instant, he hesitated, remaining embedded in her, his gaze questioning.
Without breaking their visual connection, Ashley raised her hands until she gripped the headboard. She winked. “Bring it. Make me scream.”
Josh shook his head. “Not too loud, baby. We don’t want your protection squad bursting in here, thinking your stalker has attacked. This sexy body. Your beautiful curves. My eyes only.”
He retreated, leaving her empty, but thankfully, not for long. He eased back into her with an unhurried glide.
“No, not slow.”
“I’d hate to hurt you,” he said.
“You won’t. I need—yes,” she hissed, her body bowing as passion claimed her again. “Perfect.”
Josh hastened his thrusts, cursed, and slid his hand between their bodies. His soft tap against her nub forced a groan past her lips. Ashley’s eyelids lowered as she sank into a perfect storm of pleasure.
“Open those pretty eyes of yours,” Josh demanded. “Watching you come is part of the fun.”
“I won’t climax again. I never do.”
“Huh. One thing you should learn about me. I’m an over-achiever. You say I can’t, just pisses me off. Makes me try even harder.” He slid his thumb back and forth over her slippery clit. Continued his forceful strokes into her body.
A wash of tingles broke over her, and she groaned again, louder. She started to think she could. She would.
“Come for me, sweetheart. Before I lose all semblance of my control.” He stroked her again, leaned over to kiss her with passion before he recommenced his hard, deep thrusts.
This time, her release was gentler, sweeter. It swept over her as she stared deep into Josh’s eyes.
“That’s it,” he growled. “God, your eyes go darker when you come. That pretty flush on your cheeks, your breasts.” He plunged into her, and she felt her channel ripple around his cock. “But most of all, I love the way your pussy cradles me so sweetly. It’s a taste of heaven.”
He shuttled in and out, going faster and faster, then he stilled sheathed deep and let out a sexy growl.
“Yes,” he whispered, his expression all hard-edged warrior. His lashes fluttered, but he forced his eyes to remain open, the entire time watching her. He let her see inside him, let her glimpse his softer, vulnerable side as he surrendered to his release.
11 – Not Scared Enough
She wasn’t scared enough. Hadn’t experienced the same terror as he had. The pain. The aching loss.
It was harder to get to her n
ow. People everywhere. Damn bodyguards, although he’d managed to shoot the boyfriend. The fiancé. That must have caused a few tears. She was a hard bitch. Made out she was soft and that he was the bully.
She’d started this train ride.
He intended to end it.
There had to be a way to peel back her layers of security, make her nervous until she faltered. Made a mistake.
He paced through the empty house, glad to be alone for a while instead of cozying up with his lover.
While he couldn’t see a way of getting to her, he could still niggle. Behave like that little Jack Russell that lived next door. Bark and harry. Snap at her heels. Get her to start looking over her shoulder again.
The radio broadcast in the background caught his attention. He hated the damn thing and tuned it out, but his lover liked to keep up with the play, harbored an interest in politics.
“…and in the latest poll results, Ashley Townsend has taken the lead for the first time, surging ahead of the incumbent National party. Her brand of honesty and her stance on bullying plus her other social policies have struck a note with the voting public. It will be interesting to see what the results are in the next poll.
“And in other news, the teachers’ union is warning of strike action if their demands are ignored…”
He cursed under his breath. How could she be ahead in the polls? His social media posts had taken off. People had commented on them, shared them. The fuckin’ things had gone viral in some cases. Yet, somehow, she’d still managed to swing the public in her favor.
Well.
He strode through the empty house in another fast circuit. He itched to break something, to grab a knife and slam it into her soft flesh. Instead, he stomped into his bedroom, his hand pressing to his temple in an attempt to will away the aching throb in his head. He spotted the bag of soft toys meant for the local Hospice charity store after their cleanup. He grabbed the bag and heaved it at the bed, desperate for a physical release.
Stuffed bears, a lone doll, a woolen lamb spewed from the plastic carrier bag.
At the end of his control, he grabbed the nearest stuffed animal and wrenched off its head. The act took energy. A surprising amount. The soft fabric ripped, and he ended up with a dog’s head in one hand and the stuffing-filled body in the other.
A dog.
He stared at the pink tongue that flopped from the toy’s open mouth, his eyes filling with furious tears.
It wasn’t right.
This wasn’t right.
Ashley Townsend needed to suffer as he’d suffered. She shouldn’t escape punishment.
He refused to let her.
Determined, he retrieved the plastic bag and shoved the discarded toys back into their temporary home. He’d deliver the bag to the charity store as he’d promised. Once he did that, he’d return to the West Coast beach—his private hideaway. He’d walk barefooted along the warm black sand, and he’d think. He’d plan.
He’d formulate a strategy to end this stalemate.
Sweet revenge.
Once he achieved what he wanted, the voices in his head would fade, sated by his success.
He’d have a clean slate. Start over.
A chuckle escaped him as muscle memory walked him through the house around the circuit he traveled so frequently.
Once he succeeded, he’d move to Australia. Maybe he’d travel farther afield and hit the tourist spots that’d tickled his curiosity. Although he’d gone overseas, most of his experience was in war zones. Sandpits.
He barked out another laugh. He’d been happy in the sand. Seemed he had an affinity.
The beach it was since he always did his best thinking in the sea air while he listened to the surf rumble into shore.
And meantime…
Yes, that would work.
When his footsteps took him back to the bedroom, he plucked the head and the torso of the dog off the floor. He found an old shoebox, destined for the rubbish and placed the dog inside. On the way to the beach, he’d stop at a post office. He’d courier the package to the woman and put her on notice. His smile twisted as another thought occurred.
Even better.
He’d lay a false trail and send the cops on a fruitless chase. Let them think they had their man.
It might make Ashley relax and give him an opportunity to strike. It’d solve his other problem too.
Win-win.
12 – Soaring in the Polls
Ashley entered her office just after seven-thirty the next morning. Today, she wore a dress that skimmed her figure without stepping into tacky. It was a forest-green with cream polka dots, and she could hardly wait for the press reaction.
“Great news in the latest poll,” Robert said, a spring in his step.
“I heard. Geoffrey rang me,” Ashley said. “We have a fighting chance of winning now.”
“I’ll admit I worried when the party decided you should lead us. I know you’re efficient and capable. It wasn’t that. You’re young compared to other leaders we’ve had in the past. You don’t have the experience of the other candidates.”
“I have experienced advisors,” Ashley countered, having heard these same comments earlier in the week. “I think voters—some at least—are hungry for new ideas or twists on the policies and ideals we’ve counted on before.” She checked the time. “I’d better get moving with the correspondence. I have a full day today.”
“For two weeks.”
Ashley smiled. “I’ll certainly need sleep by the time we get to election day. Fifteen days to go.” She entered her office and set her handbag and laptop near her desk. “Anything interesting in the correspondence?”
“Just the usual. The campaign manager has finalized your itinerary. I’ll print it out for you so you can check it during the drive to the Waikato. Call if you need clarification. I’m going to book airline tickets to Wellington and for your few days in the South Island. Will your fiancé be going with you?”
“Yes. Charge me for Josh’s tickets and expenses. Oh, and print out three extra copies of the itinerary. Nelson and Gerry will want to know what we’re doing during the upcoming weeks.”
“Will do,” Robert said.
Ashley’s hand shook as she reached for the first letter in her pile, but today, nothing loitered there to scare her.
A tap on her door half an hour later announced Josh’s arrival. He filled the doorway. “We’re ready when you are.”
She picked up her handbag and rifled through until she found her bright pink purse. “Can you give my credit card to Robert for me? I’m paying for personal expenses.”
“Sure.”
“Another ten minutes. I won’t be much longer than that,” Ashley promised, and she doubled down on her correspondence pile.
Josh closed the door behind him, confident Ashley was safe since Gerry stood guard outside her office. He prowled over to Robert’s desk, intent on prizing information from the taciturn man.
“Ashley asked me to give you her credit card. She said she needed to pay personal expenses.”
“Yes, for your flights.”
“My flights?” Josh sat on one of the two seats arranged in front of Robert’s desk. “Am I going somewhere?”
“Wellington, Christchurch, Dunedin, and Invercargill. You’ll hire a car from Dunedin and drive to several of the southern towns including Invercargill.”
“Huh.” Although Ashley had mentioned travel, Josh hadn’t understood exactly how much was involved. “Do you attend the meetings and functions?”
“If Ashley needs me. I attended more before you arrived.” Robert raised his head. “Sorry. That sounded as if I resent your presence. I’m not interested in Ashley in that way. We’re friends. Have been for a long time.”
“Are you married?”
Robert hesitated, his gaze falling to his desk before he replied. “Divorced. Dating now.”
Hmm, a touchy subject. Ashley had told him Robert was gay. Perhaps that was it? “Do you live
locally or do you fight your way through Auckland traffic every day?”
“I live in Conifer Grove. My place is only ten minutes away, but getting past the motorway on-ramps can be a nightmare, especially with the roadworks.”
“I hear you,” Josh said. “I grew up in Eketahuna. It took me a while to get used to the traffic up here.”
“A country boy,” Robert said, friendlier than when they’d met on earlier occasions.
“I haven’t lived at home for a while, but I’m still a country boy at heart.”
Ashley emerged from her office before Josh could gather more information from Robert. He already had the basics but intended to dig more in-depth.
Robert picked up the credit card and noted the details before handing it back to Ashley. “Thanks. I should have the flights firmed up by this afternoon.”
“Excellent. I’ll grab the details tomorrow morning when I’m in the office.”
“I’ll email you everything as well,” Robert said.
“The car is ready,” Gerry called.
“Okay. Robert, ring or text me if you need anything while I’m out of the office.”
Josh moved to the door and waited for Ashley.
“I’ll get the door,” Gerry said.
Josh nodded. They’d perfected the speed of getting Ashley in and out of venues by working between the three of them.
Once they were in the car and on the motorway driving south to Matamata and Hobbiton, the site of their first meeting, Josh asked about Robert.
“How long has Robert been working for you?”
Ashley glanced heavenward, her exasperation clear. “Surely, you don’t still suspect him?”
“I didn’t say that, but our clues are pitifully small. We’re digging deeper in all areas and combing through the info again,” Josh said.
“Josh is right,” Nelson said. “We haven’t found anything useful. We’re going over everything again. This man or woman—we still don’t know for certain, but let’s call him a man—upped the ante when they shot Josh. It wasn’t an accident. It was a cool, deliberate attempt to murder him. We’re digging into the personal lives of everyone who works or volunteers for you again since we’ve hit a wall with everyone in your past.”
Josh's Fake Fiancee (Military Men Book 5) Page 13
