by Rie Warren
I did a whole lot of ignoring along with a very clear go the fuck away with you non-stare at the co-ed and her groupies. They probably cried in the bathroom stalls after they eventually gave up on me. ’Z’if I gave a shit. Broody Brodie. That was what Cat called me when I got like this. As if she was one to talk.
“Buy you a drink?” The question came from a sweet feminine voice I was hopeless to forget.
Ahh, shit. I snapped to attention. My jaw tensed and my leg started jiggling all because Officer Ashe Kingston sidled onto the stool beside me after quietly voicing her question.
“No offense, but you should just fuck off outta my sight.” I cracked the knuckles on one hand before curling my fist around my beer. I didn’t look at her except for a quick glance to the side. That nanosecond was enough to tell me she looked good, smelled good, and she instantly put my body on edge. “Not in the mood. In fact, I got a headache comin’ on.”
“Patron. Two,” she ordered as if I hadn’t said a word.
I muttered a curse. What really sucked about this bar—just like so many others? There was a goddamn mirror on the wall of booze bottles. So try though I might to avoid eye-groping Ashe, I ended up with a front row view of her.
She didn’t look relaxed, if that was any consolation. She stared straight ahead, just like me. Our eyes clashed, hers dark gray, mine light blue. My gaze dropped, following the line of her neck and the soft round shoulders bared by her tank top.
Enough.
I drained my beer and stood.
Ashe placed her hand over mine. “Just one shot, Brodie, that’s all I’m asking for.”
“Why?” I wanted to pull my hand free, but her warm touch felt too good. “Tell me why I should.” I still refused to look at her head-on.
She inhaled and then quietly exhaled. “I missed you.”
“Fuck, woman. You got a funny way of showing it.”
“I’m not good at this stuff.”
I snorted. “No shit?”
Ashe reached up to draw her fingers along my hard jaw, and I choked on my breath. “Please, Brodie. Just one drink.”
Sitting my ass back down, I accepted my Patron and clinked it to her glass. I swallowed in one, as did Ashe.
“Done.” I slammed the shot glass back down, and stood to leave again. “Just one drink, right?”
I almost chuckled when Ashe rolled her eyes and groaned. “Fine. Two drinks, the next one will be longer.” She ordered again then mumbled, “Asshole.”
“If you think calling me bad names is the way to get back in my pants, babe, you got it all wrong.”
“I thought you liked my smart mouth.”
“Never said that.” I tipped up her chin and rubbed my thumb over her lips. “Like what you do with it though.” Danger, danger, full speed ahead. I pulled my hand back as her moist lips scorched me.
“Long week?” she asked.
I snorted again. “You could say that.” It’d been a pile of shit topped off with a big load of fuck you all around. “You?”
“Same.”
The longer drink included a beer and two more shots of throat-burning Patron, which we finished in no time at all, but Ashe’s hand drifted into mine. Even though we hardly talked, there was some kind of solace in sitting there together, holding hands.
She played with the chunky rings on my fingers and the tats trailing down my arms to the back of my hand. Her touch sent a wakey-wakey call to my cock. Big surprise.
Eventually I pulled away and dug out my wallet. If we weren’t going anywhere but back to her bed for another rousing sex-fueled night ending with me getting my ass kicked out, I’d rather head home alone.
“I said I’d pay,” Ashe opened her big leather bag.
“Don’t really like women buyin’ me drinks.” I flattened some bills on the bar.
“Why not?”
“Don’t like feeling like I owe something.”
“Oh.”
Yeah. Owing things, like sex, with no strings attached.
Ashe bit her lip and cast her eyes away. She fiddled with her fifty-ton bag—probably carried the cuffs around with her.
I stilled her fingers with a brush of mine. “Can we go to your place? I think we need to talk.”
****
As soon as the taxi pulled away from her house and her door closed behind us, intense attraction snapped between us like a live wire. Ashe’s eyes hit me, and two seconds later my back hit the door. High octane. Undeniable lust. Uncontainable heat. Uncontrollable need. We crashed together with tongues lunging into wet heat, hands searching for hot skin, moans dragged from plundering mouths.
I needed to stop this before we ended up naked and on the horizontal . . . possibly the vertical the way Ashe practically climbed up my body.
Greeeeeat time to grow a conscience to go along with my colossal erection.
“Stop.” I lowered her legs to the floor, gently pressing her back when all I wanted to do was rip off her clothes and roll her under me.
Ashe tried to kiss me again, but I turned my head aside.
“Stop, goddammit!” Rubbing the heel of my hand against my forehead, I leaned back, panting. “Goddamn it, Ashe.”
“What? What’s the problem?”
I barked a rough laugh. “Kiddin’ me? I told you I’m not doing this with you.”
“Brodie . . .” she whispered my name, the velvety sound shooting a shot of lust right to my groin.
“Don’t fucking Brodie me. Lemme clue you into something, lady. I’m not gonna be a random fuck buddy for you, got it?” My dick stood straight up in a WTF move. Hell, my cock almost jerked me to her of its own accord. “I didn’t come here to keep your sheets warm. I came for some answers I think you damn well owe me.”
There was the slightest possibility I read too much romance schmaltz and needed to spend more time on ToughGuysFuck.com. But whatever with that. I had the feels for this woman, and I was done being a doormat, doorstop, dick-on-a-leash.
Ashe stepped back. “I’m not used to answering to anyone.”
“Clearly.”
She headed for the sofa and slumped onto it, looking like a month’s worth of worries weighted her shoulders. I walked over, finally seeing her living room by the full light of day. Christ, anyone would think I was one of Nick Love’s vampires by the way Ashe tried to keep me in the dark.
Pretty place, colorful, matching cushions and stuff, framed photos and paintings . . . But that was just background noise to whatever ate Ashe up, and everything she refused to talk to me about.
“I don’t do relationships.” She looked at me with dark gray eyes.
“Got that. Why not?”
She did the shrug thing. Her little shoulder lift didn’t put me off, but it did piss me off.
“It’s not an easy hook-up I’m after, and Lord knows you aren’t easy. If I wanted straight-up sex I could get that without even lifting a finger at least four times a night.”
“Pig.”
“Yeah, maybe. But I don’t use women. I give ’em exactly what they want.” I shoved my hands through my hair and paced in front of her. “I really like you, Ashe. And guess what? I’m not cool with being your secret fuck toy.”
“Brodie, we can’t be together.” She screwed her eyes shut.
I swung toward her. “And why the hell not?”
“I don’t want to get attached.”
“Ditto. Too late.”
“I have a daughter,” she breathed the words out softly.
I rocked back on my feet. “What?”
“Cara. She’s eight.”
I scanned the living room, and yep—right there on the mantle—a picture of a grinning girl with Ashe’s blonde hair in long pigtails.
Pretty kid, and one Ashe obviously didn’t want me to meet. More bad news to my heart. I dropped into a chair. “Oh, fuck.”
As soon as I splatted down, Ashe jumped up to take over the ring-around-the-rosy pacing. “I don’t want you to be in her life. Hell, I’m not
even sure I want you in mine.”
My stomach bottomed out.
“She’s been hurt before by her dad not being around all that much. That’s why I don’t have boyfriends.” Ashe turned toward me. “I don’t even know if you’re relationship material, and I cannot take that chance with Cara. Okay?”
That stung. But I didn’t let it show. I was Brodie Goddamn Steele after all. I’d almost been a dad once, so the fact Ashe didn’t think I deserved to be around her kid did my head in a little bit. Twice stung.
“So you kicked me out the other week because . . .”
“Cara’s dad was in town to see her, and he was on his way to drop her off.”
“Nice, Ashe.” I shook my head at the floor. “Real nice.”
“You don’t get it! I don’t want her knowing about you. I don’t want her to think there’s any chance she’ll have a real father. I don’t want Cara to think you’re my boyfriend and getting her hopes up, okay?”
“Christ, you’re a real fucking piece of work, you know that?” I stood up, making her drop back a pace. “Jesus. I don’t know whether to think you’re a bitch or a goddess.”
Right now? Bitch, for sure. She’d judged me so many years ago she wasn’t willing to give me a real chance now. I’d done the same, no doubt, but at least I was ready to man up about what was happening between us.
“What you don’t get is maybe I want a relationship with you, Ashe. Maybe I’d like to get to know your daughter. Fuck me, it would’ve been nice to know you’re a mom—let’s start there. You think I don’t respect that or would make you look bad in any way, ever? Especially in front of your kid?” I wanted to jerk some fucking sense into her. I spread my hands over her hips, bringing her flush against me. “You got a really low opinion of me, don’t you, lady?”
“I can’t afford any mistakes in my life. Cara’s father is hardly involved. I’ve done this alone for so long, Brodie,” Ashe whispered. Her hands moved to my shoulders, and behind to my neck.
I lowered my face, my lips on hers. “Me too. Don’t want to anymore.”
I pulled her to me, kissing her with the deepest burning need. Every touch singed my skin, made me hotter and wilder. I got her to the couch and lay on top of her.
She ran one hand down my chest and straight into my pants. As her palm settled around my dick, I groaned. “Not doin’ this if you just want my cock.”
“What if I want it all?” She pulled her fist up to the head of my cock and squeezed.
I jetted into her fist just like that, exploding before I could draw a breath. “Christ! Christ!”
Shuddering up and down my body, I leaned on top of her. She kept rubbing me, stroking. She used my come as the slippery stuff lubing her two-handed, dick-stiffening motion.
“Want to get inside of you.” I popped the buttons on her shorts.
Ashe rolled her hips as my fingers eased inside. The blonde trail, the firm clit, the so-wet pussy sliding against my fingers.
“All of me.” Fuck, I couldn’t believe I was hard again.
I wrestled Ashe out of her shorts and panties and spanked her pink wet pussy.
Her tummy contracted. Her hips rocked up.
“Like that?” I asked.
“Yessss!”
I was kissing my way up the inside of her thigh when the front door banged open.
“Mom? I’m home!”
Ashe dislodged me with a rushed gasp, “Oh, shit.”
No shit.
Chapter Seven
Score
I SCRAMBLED WITH MY pants, facing away from the entry and, holy freakin’ shit on a stick, Ashe’s daughter. It took a ten-count to get my erection under control. For extra precaution I pulled the hem of my shirt low. Meeting the daughter I wasn’t supposed to meet with a wet spot showing would be seriously uncool.
Ashe’s cheeks glowed pretty and pink—of course that could’ve been from anger just as much as desire. Her eyes shined, probably as pinwheely as mine. She’d zipped and buttoned up everything, including her lips as she glared at me. So, we’d go with anger then.
Warm come in my jeans was cold comfort, but I grinned back at her. Her worst fears and my best hope about to become reality. Like I didn’t have game with kids.
Cara slammed inside, cleats on her feet and sweatbands on her wrists. She pulled to a stop when she saw me standing next to her mom.
Totally normal, wasn’t about to screw your mom on the couch in your living room, not even looking at her like that. Nope, not at all.
“Uhhh . . .” Ashe stuttered, flustered. I liked it. “This is Brodie.”
I held out my hand to the girl, the one that hadn’t been down Ashe’s shorts. “Nice to meet you.”
Cara shook my hand and squinted at me with the same shrewd look her mom gave me, swishing her blonde ponytail over her shoulder. “Are you the guy who’s gotten Mom all kinds of crazy lately?”
Huge props to Cara.
“No,” Ashe said in a go-to-your-room-voice.
“Yes,” I said with a shit-eating grin. I liked the daughter already. Yep. We were gonna be best buds.
Ashe recovered quickly. “How was practice?” She tweaked Cara’s ponytail.
“Awesome. I scored three goals.” Cara gave her mom a high five then looked expectantly at me.
I slapped her hand and gave her an even bigger smile.
“I’m gonna go clean up before dinner. ’Kay?” Toeing off her sneakers, Cara plucked at her sweaty shirt. Bounding up the stairs, the pre-tween gave me two thumbs up.
“Practicing what?” I asked Ashe when we were alone.
“Soccer. It’s her passion.”
“Not boys yet?”
“No, thank God. Boys are trouble.” She looked me up and down before she headed to the kitchen.
I followed, catching her around the waist as she leaned into the fridge. “Not always.”
“I beg to differ.” Ashe leaned against me with a gasp.
Trailing a line of kisses down her neck, I caressed her taut belly beneath her shirt.
“Not now, Brodie.” She wriggled free.
“No worries. I get it.” I put my hands up in front of me.
A cleaned-up Cara swooped into the kitchen. “Is Brodie staying for dinner?”
“Ahhh.” I gave a non-answer.
“Cool. I’ll set the table for three.” The girl made me feel right at home just like that.
I was pretty sure Ashe had plans to push me out the front door with her foot planted up my ass. Her long groan didn’t escape me, but Cara went along with her dinner-for-three plan, humming as she set the table.
Making my way to the john, I cleaned up the mess inside my jeans as best I could and washed my hands and face. Peering into the mirror, I whispered, “Don’t fuck this up.”
Back in the kitchen I helped Ashe at the stove. I kept the contact totally above board, off her rack, and I didn’t even kiss her once. I diced and sliced while she cooked. We drank from two tall glasses of water. Cara provided the background chatter, and Ashe answered every one of her questions while multitasking the stove and sink.
A mere thirty minutes later, a complete family meal steamed from the plates on the table.
Cara pulled out a chair. “Sit by my mom.”
I like the girl more and more.
I made sure Ashe took her seat before me and pushed her in at the table.
Steak, salad, baby potatoes . . . all the good stuff and not zero-calorie salad dressing but full-fat, chunky blue cheese cholesterol-heaven.
Medium rare strip steak. My favorite. I tucked in then almost choked when Cara asked, “Are you her boyfriend?”
“No,” Ashe said, using that you’re-so-grounded voice.
“Uhhh . . .” I did the stammering thing.
Cara drained her milk and wiped the white mustache from her upper lip. “Cool. Thought so. She needs one. She’s lonely.”
There was a small shuffle under the table, and I thought maybe Ashe had kicked at Car
a, but she didn’t seem like the type for corporal punishment unless she was in uniform and doing it on me in the very best way possible.
Cara apparently didn’t give two shits at any rate, and neither did I as she prattled on about her day. Good food, good company, a good family, and a woman I really wanted to spend more time with sat beside me. I dug in while Ashe glared so hard she must’ve thought she was Medusa.
Guess what? I didn’t turn into stone.
Afterward, Cara cleared the table before scooting upstairs. Ashe rinsed the plates, and I loaded the dishwasher. We’d washed away our alcohol buzz with lots of water, and I’d called a cab to take me home. All that was left was the simple real truth. One I said to Ashe once she walked me outside.
“I’m not fucking around with you, and just so you know, I’m not fucking anyone else either.”
“Ever the romantic, Brodie.”
“Gimme a chance, lady. I can be, for you.” I pulled Ashe into my arms.
I guided her chin up and angled her just the way I wanted. She whimpered softly just before my lips touched hers. Soft and slow and the barest sweep of my mouth on hers.
“G’night, babe.”
She watched me walk away, and I threw back, “Hey, Cara’s sweet. And you’re a good mom, a good woman.”
“You’re a good man, but I can’t . . . ”
She could. She definitely could.
I paced back to Ashe. I kissed her long and hard, pressing her against the door until she was hopefully as stupid and infatuated as me.
“You don’t have to do anything. I get it, babe. Just call me if you need me,” I rasped.
She looped her fingers into my jeans to keep me against her.
Oh yeah.
I wanted to do her. I really did. But not unless she was into me all the way. “Not fast. Not easy. Get this: I have more respect for you than that.”
“Where the hell did all this respect come from?” she called as I loped down the steps for the second time.
“Getting to know you between Myrtle Beach and now.” My feet hit the driveway and I turned to smile. “Call me.”
