As far as I knew, the police still hadn’t found Noones and I was seriously considering paying McClintock Security a large chunk of change to do what the police seemed incapable of accomplishing. The only thing stopping me was the surefire knowledge that whatever Dermott’s team would do in pursuing him would push the bounds of legality, and I didn’t know if I was ready to step over that line. Both Charlotte and Ash thought I was being naïve and foolish—Noones had threatened my life. They argued that I shouldn’t give him an ounce of mercy, but I’d lived with mental illness in my family, had seen the way it could change people. I still held out hope—albeit dwindling—that the police would find him and put him in an institution where he belonged.
“Oh?” I asked, a sense of dread settling in my gut.
Ash moved into the room, his stride purposeful. “Don’t read too much into it. There’s still no sign of him. He wasn’t popular and the friends he used to have were more than happy to see the back of him. He’s gone completely off the grid.”
“Okay,” I answered, plucking at a string on the sofa cushion. “Was that the only reason they called—to tell you they were still being outsmarted by one guy?”
Ash swore under his breath and pushed his hand through his hair, linking his fingers behind his neck as he blew out a frustrated sigh. We might not have known each other long, but being in such close proximity to one another without the distractions of the outside world had taught me a few things about his mannerisms, and I could tell he was holding something back. It’d been difficult hearing about Noones and what he’d done, but I’d gotten through it. I might have had a good cry, but that was out of my system now. I was ready to face anything head on and deal with it properly.
“If something important comes up, I want to be kept in the loop.”
“Most of Staufferson’s updates aren’t really anything of substance, but I am keeping you in the loop. I know how important it is for you to know all this stuff, but … I just don’t know that it’s productive is all.”
We fell silent, staring each other down. Sometimes Ash could infuriate the hell out of me, but all it took was one look at those fathomless gray eyes, always so serious and probing, and my anger fell away. Besides, it was hard to stay mad at someone when you knew their sole objective was to keep you alive.
Eventually, Ash dropped my stare and his eyes darted around the room. Several half-empty coffee cups were scattered on the worktops, ripped granola bar wrappers lay just outside the trashcan—I’d missed every time I’d tossed one that way—and a recycling bin full of empty water bottles completed the picture. The place looked like a tornado had come through.
“How are things coming along?” he asked, bringing my eyes back to him. “Making any progress?”
“No,” I answered, my tone more defensive than I’d meant it to. I sighed. “And it’s driving me crazy. I feel so out of sorts, and my mind is going in a ton of different directions all at once. I start in on something, only to abandon it a few minutes later. I can’t concentrate.”
“Looks like you’ve been working on something,” he observed, dropping into a seat. “Why don’t you play it for me and I’ll tell you if it’s any good.”
“Gah, no,” I waved him off. “It’s all crap.”
“Come on, I’m sure it’s great. You’re great.” Suddenly, he was back on his feet. Stepping close, he dropped his hands to my shoulders and caressed my exposed skin, bringing goosebumps to the fore.
“I’d just bore you,” I answered, my words coming out breathy.
“Nothing about you is boring.” He leaned close and whispered in my ear, “In fact, you fascinate the hell out of me.”
I fought the desire I felt building inside of me. It was taking all my willpower not to melt at his feet. And the thing was, I knew he knew it too. And yet there was something infinitely sexy about the way he held me, how he let me believe I was in control when we both knew he was the one who pulled the strings.
“Seriously, though, I’m going crazy here,” I said, breaking the spell. “I need to buckle down and focus.” I turned away, but it didn’t help. I could still smell the faint, woodsy scent of his cologne, and it called to me. Beckoned me to turn back and lay my hands on him, use his body to break through this fog. That was a terrible idea though because every time we touched, I forgot about everything else and wound up naked. I still had carpet burns from the number of times he’d taken me right there on this very floor. One time, I’d ended up spread out over the dining room table like Thanksgiving dinner.
Pushing away those memories and the way they made my body tingle, I rose and moved to the table across the room. Attempting to ignore his larger-than-life presence, I opened my notebook to a new page and chewed on the end of my pen as I tried to quiet my hormones and focus on what I’d been doing before he’d come in.
Ash, however, had other ideas. He crossed the room and dropped into a squat at my feet, bringing us face to face. His eyes flicked between mine for a few quick seconds. “Am I allowed to tell you how fucking turned on I get watching you work?”
Only if I was allowed to tell him how wet my panties got when he talked dirty to me.
Generally speaking, Ash was a pretty respectful guy. Oh, he could swear with the best of them when warranted, but in the normal course of our conversations, Ash wasn’t who you’d think of when you pictured a world-weary soldier. Most times, you would never know he even had a filthy, dirty, dominant side. And while I’d tried—many times—to resist that alpha version of him, I really, really liked it. More than I probably should.
Admitting to myself I wasn’t going to get much work done when my body was this keyed up, I closed the notebook and set it aside. And then I had an idea. A wicked one. I licked my lips and looked up at him coquettishly. “You can always tell me what turns you on … sir.”
Ash closed his eyes and groaned, and I chanced a look at the large bulge between his thighs. Was it possible my mouth was literally watering?
Suddenly, he surged to his feet and his hands dropped to his belt buckle. “On your knees.”
My brain short circuited and faltered, but my body obeyed. As if on auto-pilot, I kneeled in front of him, my eyes transfixed on his hands as they worked his button free.
“What’s your safe word?” he asked, his voice tumbled gravel. When I didn’t immediately answer, he nudged my chin up. “What’s the word, Rae?”
I chewed on my lip. Hazy with lust, all I could think about was the next second and then the next—imagining his fingers sliding that zipper down and then my lips wrapping around his cock and swallowing him down.
“This ends right now if you don’t answer.”
That whispered command snapped me out of my stupor. No way was I giving up an opportunity to worship him with my mouth. “Pumpkin,” I confirmed.
“Good girl,” he praised. “Now, hands behind your back.”
I sat back on my calves and gripped my hands behind my back as he’d ordered, my fingers twined to keep from reaching out and touching him. I could tell from his voice he wasn’t going to take things nice and slow. There’d be no lingering over each other’s bodies this time, savoring every rise and curve, every taste and moan. This was going to be fast and dirty … and I didn’t mind one fucking bit.
While initially I’d bristled at Ash’s dominant nature, I’d grown to appreciate it. When he took control of my pleasure, I didn’t have to think, didn’t have to worry. He helped me forget about my asshole ex-husband, the demands of my label, the expectations of my fans, and all the responsibilities I carried with me each and every day. When he was in charge, all I had to do was let go and reap the rewards of my obedience.
I didn’t know how I’d ever go back to how things had been before. All I knew was I didn’t want to. But I also recognized this was all just temporary—once my stalker was apprehended, there’d be no reason for us to continue on as we were. We’d part ways, and I’d be left with nothing but my memories of our time together. That,
and a desire to be dominated and controlled in the bedroom.
“You’re thinking too hard. I can see it on your face.”
I dragged my eyes up the length of his torso. “I was thinking about this,” I admitted. “About how much I enjoy you bossing me around.”
He stroked my face and I leaned into his touch, his fingers surprisingly soft. “I promised you pleasure, didn’t I?”
I nodded. “You did.”
He slid his hand along my scalp, his fingers coaxing their way through my long, dark strands. “You have such beautiful hair,” he marveled just before he wrapped it around his fist and yanked my head back, stretching my neck taut. “I promised if you gave yourself to me—gave me everything—I’d make it worth your while. And I never break my promises. You should know that about me.”
I did know that about him. There was only one problem: it was one of the few things I knew about Ash. All this time together, and we were still practically strangers. Sometimes it felt like I knew Rocky’s secretary better than I knew the man I shared my bed with.
“I want to know more,” I blurted.
Shit. I knew not to push him; every time I did, he shut down and shut me out.
The problem was, when Ash had me down on my knees, turned on and incoherent with lust, I wasn’t thinking straight. He had the power to make me forget myself, forget the way this was supposed to work. Against my better judgement, he turned me into the type of woman who needed a man—needed him—and who wasn’t afraid to share that vulnerability. He made me forget my walls—those carefully erected barriers I put between myself and others, the defenses I’d constructed to keep people from getting too close, from knowing me. The real me.
That thought stung, and made me focus on something other than my lust. I didn’t know if I was comfortable with him seeing not just Country Princess Rae Griffin, but also little Norma Rae Griffin who’d come from the wrong side of the tracks. Who easily wore the mantle of alcoholism because it was in her blood. I'd already bared every part of my body to Ash; I didn’t know if I was ready to bare my soul as well.
"Right now, all you need to know is the taste of my cock on your lips and that I'm going to make you come until you can’t stand."
And yet, for all the heavy worries I carried inside, my pulse spiked and my breath hitched when he dragged his zipper down and his dick sprang free, hard and ready.
"Open your mouth, Rae," he commanded. When I complied, he growled with approval. "I love it when you obey me so willingly.” He took his cock in hand and traced the velvet head over my bottom lip, teasing me with it. My tongue darted out to lick the salty drop of pre-cum on the tip.
Delicious.
"Suck me," he said, pushing past my lips until I felt his thick, pulsing head hit the back of my throat. "I'm going to fuck that smart little mouth of yours now," he added, the pace of his thrusts increasing. "And you're going to take all of me like a good little girl, aren't you?"
If I'd been able to speak, I would have told him that I wanted him to fuck my mouth until all I ever tasted was him, that I wanted him to take his pleasure from me. That I wanted him to come down my throat and then I wanted him to lick my pussy until I did the same to him. But because I couldn't say a word, I flicked my eyes up, hollowed my cheeks, and sucked him harder.
One of the things that made accepting Ash’s dominance easy was how tender he could be afterward. No matter how controlling he was or how filthy he spoke to me when we were naked, once we’d both been sated he took care of me … held me in his arms and let me come down from those intense encounters. And yet these moments of intimacy also felt superficial, like they were designed to make me feel as if I was growing closer to him, without actually doing so.
I’d been through that with my marriage, but unlike Ash, Ford had liked talking to me afterward. True, our conversations had been mostly about his performance: how great he was or how much I liked what he’d done to me. In hindsight, I knew that hadn’t been true intimacy, but at least at the time I’d thought it was.
If I was being honest with myself, part of me missed what Ford had provided in the early days of our relationship. I hadn’t felt close to someone I was fucking for years, and I craved that connection. I genuinely missed those lazy conversations in bed, the whispered confidences between kisses. And it scared me that I wanted those things with Ash. But what scared me most of all was that he didn’t want them with me.
But if you don’t try to get him to open up to you, you’ll never know for sure.
Tracing the lines of his double arrow tattoo, I asked, “What were you like as a kid? I’m having difficulty imagining it. I feel like you came out of the womb this serious, quiet man.” I chuckled, the image of a toddler with Ash’s beard and piercing eyes so incongruous as to be ridiculous.
His abs flexed and with my ear over his chest, I heard when his heartbeat accelerated and then grew steady again. Between that and his delayed response, I knew I’d struck a nerve. It would be so easy for me to say, “Never mind, forget I asked,” but I didn’t want to. Not this time.
Back in L.A., he’d said he wanted to be friends. But since we’d landed in Oregon and started having sex, I felt as if that offer had been rescinded, and that didn’t sit well with me. He’d pushed me to do things I hadn’t been comfortable with; the least he could do was return the favor by having a goddamn conversation that didn’t involve him telling me to get on my knees.
I was about to sit up and tell him so when he sighed, and then started talking. “You might not believe it, but I was a pretty carefree kid. We moved around a lot—my dad was in the Army too—but I had your standard, happy childhood. Mom, dad, brother, dog … the whole white picket fence thing, minus the actual white picket fence.”
I pictured Ash riding his bike down a street lined with tidy houses with flower boxes on the windows, mothers standing on the sidewalks talking with each other while their children played around them. And then I imagined his whole, perfect family sitting down to a home-cooked meal that hadn’t come from a can, and my stomach fought against the memory of how many goddamned Spaghetti-O’s I’d consumed as a child. Practically tasting that tinny flavor on my tongue, I pushed the memory to the back of my mind and asked, “What was your dog’s name?”
I’d wanted a dog but my mom couldn’t afford to feed one, or pay for vet appointments so instead, I’d settled for trying to make friends with the stray cats that roamed our neighborhood. Unfortunately, they were more interested in hissing at me than letting me pet them. I had a scar on my ankle from where a particularly vicious one had sunk his fangs into my leg when I’d tried to pick him up.
“Chewbacca.” He chuckled and his hand skated up and down my arm in a light caress.
“Was he a big, hairy beast?
Ash let loose a full, hearty laugh. “No, not at all. He was tiny.” His hand stopped roving, and beneath my ear his heart raced. After a slight pause, he continued, “My brother named him. I can’t remember why he chose that. Probably had something to do with how much he loved Star Wars.”
“What’s your brother’s name?”
Ash’s racing heart hitched in his chest and I recognized his brother was another subject he didn’t like talking about. And yet, if he couldn’t tell me the name of his family members, what was I doing here? I sat up and pushed my hair out of my face, waiting for him to answer. For a long time, he wouldn’t look at me, and still I waited, silently praying he’d give me … something. That this paranoia wasn’t all in my head.
My heart sank when Ash scooted out from under me and stood, facing away. He sucked in a deep lungful of air, his back rising and falling with the steady intake of oxygen. He released it in a long, slow gust, and looked back over his shoulder. “I’m going to go shower. Let’s meet back in the house in two hours and I’ll make us something to eat.”
I sat there numb and mute as Ash stepped into his jeans and tugged his shirt on over his head. The motherfucker was walking out on me, and all he could say
was he’d talk to me in a couple of hours? I wanted to lash out, to yell and scream and tell him he was being a dick, but I couldn’t find the words. With anger—or maybe sadness, it was hard to distinguish between the two—I watched him close the door behind him without so much as a backward glance. As sure as he’d shut that door, he’d shut me out too.
And that was all I needed to know about what this was between us. I’d craved intimacy, wanted to connect with him on a deeper level, and meanwhile, all he’d wanted was a willing plaything to fuck.
Drawing in a deep breath of my own, I made a decision. I’d gone two years without sex and wasn’t about to go back to falling into bed with someone just because it was convenient. Ash might be the best goddamn lover on the face of the planet—he might make my body sing in a way my voice never could—but I was done having sex with men who only wanted my body. If he couldn’t open up to me, share something of himself beyond his dick, then he sure as hell wasn’t going to get anything else from me.
When a sob escaped, that’s when I knew. Against all wisdom, I’d fallen in love with a man who could never love me back. A man I didn’t know the first fucking thing about and apparently never would.
Chapter Seventeen
Ash
I didn’t want to be a dick, but I couldn’t help myself. From the moment I’d seen Rae, I’d wanted back between her thighs, but more than that, I’d wanted to get to know her too. And yet every time she tried to get to know me, I pushed her away. It was self-preservation at its worst.
The truth was, I wasn’t used to opening up to people, much less women. Since Sonia, I’d been strictly a one-and-done type of guy. Which was all well and good when I’d been in the Army and could use that as my excuse, but I wasn’t getting any younger. Sooner or later, I imagined I’d want to settle down and start a family. Not that I was looking to do that now, but that didn’t mean I should be treating Rae like one of those disposable women from my past either. Especially since I’d been the one to pursue … whatever this was growing into.
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