by Aly Martinez
His lips twitched against mine. “Ash, you are not a thief and anyone who has ever met you knows that. Especially me.”
A megawatt smile formed on his lips.
Son of a bitch!
“Oh my God, you did that on purpose!” I yelled, causing him to laugh, dropping his head to my shoulder. “You just made me feel sorry for you to prove a point.” He continued laughing. “What kind of asshole manipulates a woman’s feelings just to use them against her?” My voice broke on a sob.
His head immediately popped up and his laughter fell silent. “That’s not what . . . ,” he started but stopped midsentence when he caught sight of my victorious grin. “Oh, you are so going to pay for that.” He began tickling me as I squirmed underneath him.
For several minutes we rolled around on the floor, laughing and acting like the kids we really were. Finally, when we were both out of breath, we climbed into bed. Flint ordered me to undress, then promptly juggled me into our position. It was late and we were both exhausted.
I wished I could stay in that bed with him forever.
I wished I could just let go and trust his words.
His smartass joke was only a Band-Aid over the gaping wound that was killing our relationship before we really even got started.
Or maybe my doubts were killing us.
As I snuggled into his arms, I breathed in deeply, trying to burn that moment into my memory forever.
I would need it more than anything else when I started over again.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Flint
I WOKE UP EARLY THE next morning with my hands kneading Ash’s breasts. She was sound asleep, but my cock twitched between us. I would have given anything to take her right then, but I knew I should wait. She went from being virtually untouched for nineteen years to having come at least a dozen times in under two days. That night was our first official date, and I had every plan of ending it with my cock buried to the hilt inside her. So despite the ache between my legs, I let her rest.
The clock flashed six A.M. but there was no possible way I could have fallen back to sleep. I shifted, trying to scoot out of bed, but unlike Awake Ash, Sleeping Ash was a cuddler. She followed me as I tried to inch my way out from under her. I chuckled as she all but crawled on top of me.
The sun was just starting to light the room, but coffee would have to wait. I’d been starved of her for entirely too long. Wrapping my arms around her, I spent at least an hour soaking her in as she slept peacefully on top of me. The last two days played on loop while the previous years faded into nothing more than a distant memory.
We still had so much stuff to work through—the misunderstanding the night before being the prime example—but I was committed. I’d talked a big game about making her fall in love with me again and getting to know the real Ash Mabie.
But the truth was, I didn’t need to know anymore about her.
I loved her.
Every crazy, quirky bit of her, I undeniably loved.
Kissing the top of her head, my eyes drifted to my old book that she had used as a journal over the years, sitting on her nightstand.
It was probably a gross invasion of privacy but I had spent the day prior reading every word she wrote inside that Dave Eggers book. It had taken me a little while to figure out what the highlights meant, but I finally came to the conclusion that they were her streams of consciousness written in code. The random highlighted pink letters all combined into sentences where she was happy. She rambled about people she met, books she read from the library, and the longest of all was when Judy had baked a cake for Ash’s birthday.
The blue seemed to be when she was sad. She wrote about missing her dad even though she knew she had done the right thing by turning him in. She mentioned how hard it was being on the run, and once she debated stealing food versus being hungry. It was all I could do not to set the book on fire after that.
However, it was the green letters that I tried to focus on. Those were her dreams. There wasn’t a F, L, I, N, or T in that book that wasn’t highlighted in green. She wasn’t lying. I was walking in every single dream she had. But what bothered me was that I was usually walking out on her.
Her subconscious couldn’t have been more wrong. I was never letting her go.
Some time later, I drifted back to sleep with her still snuggled on top of me.
It wasn’t until I woke up that I realized that while I may not ever let her go, holding on to her wouldn’t be easy either.
* * *
“Ash?” I groaned, stretching my stiff muscles across the empty bed. Prying my eyes open, I looked at the clock.
How the hell did I sleep to eleven?
“Ash,” I called again, but the house remained notably silent. I pushed to my feet and tugged on a pair of shorts and t-shirt, then headed out to find her.
I wandered around the house calling her name, but room after room, I came up empty.
“Ash!” I yelled up the stairs that led to the unused spare bedrooms.
I bought that house determined to one day be able to navigate those stairs. They were a physical reminder that while I was up on two legs, I was a long way from full mobility. They both taunted me and drove me on a daily basis.
I started the daunting task of climbing them, but talked myself out of it at the last minute, deciding to check the weeds instead.
I checked every possible room in my house, but she was nowhere to be found. My mind began to race with possibilities, stretching the gamut of “She’ll be back any minute” to “She’s gone and I’ll never see her again.”
Heading back to my room, I grab my cell phone—panic building with every step.
Surely, she wouldn’t try to run again?
We’d made some great strides the night before and we were supposed to have a date that night.
When I rounded the corner of the room, relief settled in my chest when I saw a pile of her clothes neatly folded in the corner. They were a mess the night before, so at some point that morning she had to have folded and organized them. The relief was short lived though, because the messenger bag that she used to carry everything was notably missing.
She wouldn’t have left her clothes though.
Would she?
There was only one thing I knew for a fact Ash would never leave behind—and unfortunately, it wasn’t me.
My pulse spiked as I slowly turned toward her nightstand, praying with all of my heart that I was wrong.
“Oh God,” I breathed, stumbling back several steps, almost falling to the ground before getting my crutches back under myself.
The empty spot where her book once lay gutted me.
She was gone.
* * *
“You need to calm the fuck down,” Till barked as I threw the malfunctioning coffee maker against the floor.
It had been two hours since I realized Ash had taken off, and just like all of the years before I was waffling between despair and anger. For the first hour and a half, I drove around looking for her. But with every passing minute, hope of finding her faded further out of my reach.
Out of sheer desperation, I called Till, who in turn called Leo.
The search for Ash Mabie was on all over again.
“No, what I fucking need is a goddamn cup of coffee and a woman who doesn’t run away every chance she gets.”
“Well, I happen to agree with you, but right this very second you have a broken coffee maker and a woman who may or may not be missing. So let’s calm the hell down and try to figure this out.”
Eliza stopped pacing around my couch long enough to ask, “Do you want me to make a coffee run?”
“No, I don’t want you to make a goddamn coffee run,” I snapped at her unnecessarily.
Till quickly corrected me. “Hey! Watch your mouth. She was trying to help.”
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and dropping my chin to my chest.
This was not happening.
Not again.
Not when I just got her back.
“Chill out. We’re going to find her. Just like we did last time,” Till assured.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “When? In three years, like last time? Just to keep her for forty-eight hours before she runs again? I can’t spend my life trapped inside that vicious cycle!” I yelled without lifting my head.
The problem was I couldn’t step out of the cycle either. Not as long as she was part of it.
Till reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “What are you saying? You want me to call Leo off?”
“No! I just want someone to fucking find her and make her love me the way I love her. I want her to want to stay with me.” I scrubbed a hand through my hair, completely defeated.
Suddenly Leo’s voice joined the conversation. “Well, now you just sound like a pussy.”
My head snapped up to find him and Slate standing behind Till.
Leo took a step forward. “Get yourself together and stop acting like a bitch. Your woman will be here in ten minutes. She was with Liv at a thrift store across town.”
My eyes flashed between him and Slate as I attempted to get my emotional breakdown under control.
Only I couldn’t do that at all.
The sudden rush of relief left me shaky. Leo was right, I had never looked like a bitch more in my life. But I was completely okay with that.
She’s on her way home.
I blew out a loud breath and walked over to the couch, flopping down to hide the effects the adrenaline racing from my system was having on my already weak legs.
“Awww, she was shopping,” Eliza said, joining me on the couch.
I cleared the lump from my throat before announcing, “I’m gonna kill her.”
Till chuckled. “It’s probably easier to buy her a cell phone.”
“How the hell did she end up with Liv?” I asked Leo.
“She called Q this morning and got her number. I’ll be honest, it was just luck that I found her so quickly. I was looking for my keys to come over here when Sarah told me Liv had taken the car to go shopping. Called Liv to tell her to get her ass back home and she told me she was with Ash.” He shrugged. “I’m still billing you though. And just so you know, Sundays are time and a half.” He laughed.
I didn’t. I was fuming.
I was pissed at myself for overreacting and assuming the worst, but also at Ash for not at least leaving a note to let me know where she was going.
But mainly at myself.
“All right. Thanks for coming over, but if she’s on her way back, I need all of you to get the fuck out.”
* * *
Ash
“Where the fuck have you been?” Flint growled from the couch the second I walked though the door.
I set my bags down on the ground and ran my fingers through my freshly trimmed hair. “I’m starting to sense a pattern forming here. Is that the way you’re always planning to greet me every time you see me? Because I have to be honest, it’s not working for me.”
“It is when I’ve spent half the day thinking you took off again.”
“What?” I asked, surprised. “Why would you think that? I just went to run some errands.”
“You couldn’t leave a note?” he asked rudely.
I swayed my head from side to side, pretending to consider it. “I guess I could, I just didn’t think about it.” I shrugged. “Hey, guess what?”
He didn’t ask the obligatory “what.” He just sat blinking at me in disbelief. Finally, I asked, “What?”
“I spent the entire morning worried about you. I destroyed my coffee maker and was about twelve seconds away from a nervous breakdown. And you want me to ‘guess what’?” he threw up some very angry air quotes.
“Well I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s a really good ‘guess what.’” I waggled my eyebrows then repeated, “Guess what?”
He dropped his head back to stare up at the ceiling, mumbling what sounded like a prayer for patience.
Apparently Flint Page was not a fan of guessing games, so I just went straight to the point. “I got a job! You are looking at the newest shampoo girl at To Dye For. I saw the help wanted sign, went in and talked to the owner this morning. Bam! Ten minutes later I was employed and getting a new free haircut. Then—oh this is my favorite part—Liv and I went to the thrift shop and I found the most adorable little black dress for our date tonight. It’s really simple but it makes my boobs look amazing.”
Flint blew out an exasperated sigh then leveled me with a glare. “Ash, just get naked.”
I immediately took off my shirt, even before I asked, “Seriously?”
He pushed to his feet. “I’ve had the worst day imaginable and you for some reason have zero grasp of that. You seem to apologize best naked, so I’m cashing in the angry fuck.” He grabbed his dick that was suddenly bulging from the front of his athletic shorts.
My tongue snaked out to lick my lips. “I do like those kind of apologies,” I whispered, reaching back to unclasp my bra.
“Go get in bed. I’ll be there in a minute.” I continued to stare as his hand disappeared into the front of his shorts.
I walked over, stopping directly in front of him. “Can I help with that?” I guided my fingers down over the ripples of his abs and under his waistband.
When my fingertips brushed the head of his cock, a firm hand landed against my ass. I dropped my forehead against his chest; sparks sent blood rushing to my clit and a strangled moan flew from my mouth.
He removed my hand from his shorts, but taunted me by pulling out his hard-on and continuing to stroke it between us. “I said. Go. Get. In. Bed.”
“Okay. Okay.” I relented, sauntering away.
“You better be naked when I get there, too.”
“Bossy. Bossy. Bossy,” I chanted, but started shimmying out of my jeans before I even turned the corner down the hall.
After toeing off my shoes, I hopped into the bedroom, tugging my jeans down my legs. My panties quickly followed as I climbed onto the bed.
Not even a full minute later, Flint entered the room, dragging one of his kitchen stools behind him. He walked straight to the nightstand and retrieved a strip of condoms.
I tossed him my best sultry smile, but he wasn’t kidding about the whole angry thing.
He.
Looked.
Pissed.
“Flip over and put your ass in the air,” he demanded, stopping at the foot of he bed. Taking off his crutches, he tossed them to the other side of the bed. After dropping the condoms on the bed next to me, he pushed off his shorts and settled on the stool. “And back up.”
I didn’t argue.
Holy shit. Angry Flint is hot.
Grabbing both of my thighs, he dragged me to the edge of the bed. I was leaning forward on my elbows with my ass at his eye level. I was completely exposed in every possible way. But I was with him. Nothing else mattered.
He inched up his stool until it sat flush against the mattress. I peeked over my shoulder just as he dragged a finger over my opening and down to my clit. My breath hitched when he looked up into my eyes; his were burning with a mix of anger and desire.
I was turned on by the anger, but terrified by the desire. It wasn’t the way he usually looked when he was turned on. It was different—and fierce.
“I thought you left,” he said, holding my eyes and pushing a single finger inside.
As he slowly removed it, I groaned from the loss. “I just went shopping.” A hand landed on my ass and his finger darted back inside, mixing the most amazing combination of pain and pleasure.
“I fucking thought you left,” he growled, curling his fingers deliciously, before they were suddenly gone again. My knees went weak and I followed him down with my hips, chasing his hand for more. His hand wasn’t what I got at all.
“Ass up,” he demanded, leaning forward and raking his teeth over my ass cheek. Chills spread over my body, but I lifted my ass as high as possible. His tongue
laved over my core before darting inside.
I rocked back against his face, but just like with his fingers, his mouth disappeared.
“Flint, please. Stop teasing me,” I huffed
“I was scared to death, Ash. Looked like a bitch in front of my entire fucking family. All because you didn’t leave a goddamn note.”
He pressed back inside me. “I’m sorry,” I breathed.
“I will never go through that again. Never. Do you hear me?” He twisted his hand back and forth, pushing deeper every time.
My release built. “Oh God. Keep going,” I begged.
He stilled his hand, then once more bit my ass. “Never again.”
“Okay! I’m sorry,” I cried. “I get it.”
“No, you really fucking don’t,” he gritted, but his fingers began an unrelenting rhythm. “I need you to come now, Ash. I’m about to fuck you, and I can’t swear that you’ll get off. So this part is for you—the fucking is for me.”
“Stop talking,” I whispered, rolling my hips against his hand.
“Hurry up.”
I can do that.
Flint added his other hand into the mix, tapping and circling my clit while he pumped his fingers in and out of me. It wasn’t long before I was stepping off the edge of climax, calling his name on the descent.
I collapsed face first onto the bed, lost in the post-orgasm fog.
I vaguely heard the crinkle of the condom behind me. The next thing I knew Flint had lifted me off the bed, settling me on his lap. He was still sitting on the stool, but he had shifted backwards so his legs had room between the stool and the mattress. His chest was to my back and one of his arms was wrapped tightly around my waist.
“Close your legs and put your feet on the bed,” he ordered, lifting me to hover over his waiting cock. He guided the tip inside me as I followed his directions. No sooner had my knees touched when he roughly slammed inside me.
“Oh God,” I cried as he filled me, deeper than ever before.
He folded his other arm over my chest so his forearm rested between my breasts and his hand gripped my shoulder. Tightly holding me to his chest, he once again lifted me before roughly forcing me back down.
