Tempt ME: A Single Dad Romance

by Mia Ford

  “Hey,” I greeted, stopping at the bottom of the porch steps.

  “Morning, Sabbatical,” she joked, although I could see it wasn’t genuine. She was being nice, and I felt like a fool.

  Turn around, go back to the motel, and remember that women chase you, not the other way around.

  I ignored the voice in my head. I didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was because I had enjoyed her company. Maybe it was because I needed a friend who wasn’t humoring me because I was rich. Whatever it was, I felt like I would have chased her to the ends of Texas if I had to.

  Which pissed me off. Just a little.

  “Afternoon, actually,” I said. “Missed you at the motel this morning. Thought I’d check up on you.”

  She smiled, genuinely this time. “What did you do, walk here?”

  “Hank lent me his truck.”

  Her eyes widened. “Hank? Really?” She shook her head. “He must really like you.”

  “I guess so,” I said. “Looks like you’re taking a little sabbatical of your own.”

  She shrugged. “Didn’t feel like work this morning.”

  “Do you feel like coffee, then?” I asked. “My treat.”

  She gazed at me, rocking slightly on her feet and biting her lip. The silence lasted long enough to make things awkward.

  “Ashlyn?”

  I caught the tear that ran down her cheek before she could wipe it away, and I was up the stairs in two strides, holding her by the arms. “What’s wrong?”

  She looked away from me, her lower lip shaking slightly as she bit down hard and tried to maintain her composure. I tried to get her to look at me, and that’s when I saw the bruise on her cheek. I frowned, pushing her hair back, only now realizing that the locks hadn’t fallen across her face like that by mistake.

  She pulled away from me quickly, readjusting the hair to cover her bruise.

  “Is that what I think it is?” I asked.

  “It’s nothing.”

  I couldn’t fathom how she could have gotten it. It looked like the result of a nasty beating, only I had been with her for most of yesterday, and I couldn’t imagine when someone could have done that to her.

  “Did someone hit you?” I asked.

  “It’s nothing, Chance, seriously,” she said, stepping back from me. “I appreciate you coming here to check up on me, and tell Chuck I’m sorry I missed his call. I’ll call him back later. But right now, I’m just really tired. Can we do coffee another day?”

  “Ashlyn, what’s going on?”

  “Chance, please,” she said, tears welling in her eyes and falling down her cheeks faster than she could wipe them away. “I just want to be alone.”

  “Absolutely not,” I said, shaking my head and following her retreat. “I can’t just leave you like this.”

  “Yes, you can!” she yelled, and I stopped cold. She looked at me with a mix of sorrow and anger, like I had somehow embarrassed her or something. “You don’t even know me. You don’t owe me anything. Just go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She was crying freely now, and I had no idea what to do other than what my instincts were telling me to. I closed the distance between us, grabbed her by her arms and pulled her in, wrapping my arms around her tight.

  She resisted, for the briefest of moments, then her body went limp and her shoulders shook with her sobs. Her cries came in short gasps and whimpers, and I pressed her tighter against me, burying my face in her hair as I tried to calm her.

  “Shhh,” I cooed. “It’s going to be alright. Whatever it is, it’s going to be alright. I’m right here.”

  I had no idea just how convincing I sounded, but what I did know for sure was that my blood was boiling. I was skeptical at first, but her reaction told me everything I needed to know. In the hours between last night and now, someone had obviously come here and decided to use her for punching practice. The only question was who.

  Her sobbing had eased, and she softly pushed away from me, sniffing as she wiped her tears and turned away from me. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Not exactly the way I wanted you to see me today.”

  “Ashlyn –”

  “Chance, it’s alright. Thank you, really, but this isn’t something you can help with,” she said. “Actually, I wouldn’t feel comfortable bringing you into the middle of it at all. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”

  I took a deep breath and let it out in a long exhale. “How about this?” I started. “You invite me in, I make us both some coffee, and we pretend that we’re at the diner without having to leave the house at all. Then, when you feel comfortable enough, you can tell me what the hell happened.”

  She looked at me for a beat, then looked away, biting her lip again. It would have looked cute if not for the bruise on the side of her face and the tears in her eyes.

  “I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea,” she said.

  “Sure it is,” I insisted. “Besides, what do you have to lose? I’m going to be leaving town in a day or two anyway. It’s not like I’m going to be spreading gossip or anything.”

  “You don’t seem like the gossip type,” she smiled.

  “I’m not,” I replied. “I could just really use some coffee right now.”

  She smiled softly, and it was good to see the cheerfulness in her eyes. “Fine, coffee it is.”

  She led me inside.

  Chapter 10: Ashlyn

  For some reason, I told Chance everything. It took two pots of coffee and several hours, but I spilled it all. He just smiled and listened and held my hand and let me talk. It felt wonderful.

  I told him about Earl and my miserable marriage, about Earl’s family money and its influence in Ludwig, about Earl harassing me and his daddy thinking his money could make the problem go away. And of course, I told him about Earl breaking in and trying to rape me.

  Chance listened quietly and intently, only interrupting me to ask for some clarification before letting me continue. He was appalled by the Sheriff’s inability to do anything, or refusal thereof. I knew that Earl would walk away that morning with only a slap on the wrist, and although that had pissed me off, it angered Chance even more. He had also been confused as to how news of this morning hadn’t reached the motel. With a town this small, he or Chuck should have heard something. But, as always, the Sheriff had snuffed out any news from spreading before it had even reached the station’s front door.

  Through it all, though, I had started feeling much better. It was good to have someone to talk to who wasn’t directly involved. It was different than talking to anyone else in Ludwig, who, in one way or the other, was associated with the Greene’s. And telling Chuck would have probably resulted in a fist fight at the bar and the eventual wrath of the Greene’s on his motel. Both of which I did not want.

  With Chance, though, opening up just felt right. It was awkward at first, but by the time my story had gained momentum, I was talking freely and without remorse. There was no judgment in his eyes, no look of pity that I usually got from everyone else. There was only intent interest and a warm air of concern.

  By the time I was done, the sun was sinking low in the afternoon sky, and we had fallen into a deep silence that was both comforting and a little uneasy. I had expected some sort of reaction from him once I was done, but all he did was hold my hand, squeeze it and offer a comforting smile. I began to wonder if he was looking at me in a different light, if maybe he was thinking that being with me here was a little too much of a liability, especially since he was supposed to be gone within a day or two. He didn’t need trouble, and I certainly didn’t want to be the reason for it.

  He surprised me, though, when he finally spoke up and told me that he would spend the night on the couch to keep me safe. I thought it was probably the stupidest idea in the world, and told him that, too. He wouldn’t let up, and although I continued to protest, he just shook away my resistance and told me that he had already made up his mind.

  “I already called my lawyer,” I said.
“Another incident like today and he said he could have Earl picked up and sent to jail for thirty days.”

  “And I’m supposed to wait for him to do that again?” Chance asked, frowning at me as if I were a child who had just made the most ridiculous statement ever.

  “You don’t have to do anything,” I said, frowning at him. “This isn’t your fight.”

  “Whatever,” Chance said. “I’m staying. I just need to get Hank’s truck back. Do you mind following me into town so we can drive back together?”

  “I’m not going to do this,” I protested.

  “Yes, you are,” Chance replied. “Or I’ll just stay here, and if Hank asks, I’ll tell him it’s your fault he was down one truck for the night.”

  I sighed, bit my lip and finally nodded. “Fine.”

  “And the motel.”

  “What about it?”

  “I need to pass by and get some stuff for the night.”

  I shook my head quickly. “If Chuck sees me, he’ll know it was Earl who hit me, and he’ll try and do something about it. I don’t want that to happen.”

  “Then wait for me at Hank’s and I’ll walk to the motel and back,” he said. “I’ll be back in five minutes and we can drive up here right away. No one has to know you were in town.”

  “Hank will know.”

  He smiled. “Hank’s good at keeping secrets, don’t worry.”

  How he knew that, I had no idea.

  * * *

  I lay in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling as I thought about Chance downstairs. Everything had gone as planned, and as promised, we didn’t bring any unwanted attention to us. By the time I was ready to sleep, Chance had set himself up on the couch in the living room to be as close to the door as possible if Earl did decide to show up again.

  I thought it was sweet. And charming. And everything else that made my stomach flutter like butterflies. He didn’t have to do this, but just knowing he was downstairs made me feel a lot better. Although it did feel odd having someone else in the house. I wondered what it would be like in the morning. I couldn’t remember the last time I had breakfast with someone in my own kitchen, let alone Chance.

  Let’s just hope he isn’t some serial killer, okay?

  I smiled to myself. This was so unlike me. It was true, I hardly knew the man, but he made me feel safe, and that was all that mattered really. I found it strange that I was scared of a man I had been married to for a few years, yet felt unbelievably comfortable around another I had only known for two days.

  Serial killer or not, I wanted him downstairs. A part of me wanted him upstairs, too.

  Why not invite him upstairs, then? He’s already here. God knows you could use a good time. When’s the last time you felt a man inside you? A man who really cared?

  “Never,” I whispered. I closed my eyes, letting the voice in my head play with my thoughts just a little. It was odd how close I felt to Chance, how open I had been to him. There was just something about him, a quality that made me weak in the knees. Hot, sure. Tall and handsome, double check. But that wasn’t all. The fact that he had sat down and listened to me the way he had, that just gave him a completely different edge that far surpassed the line of sexy. A part of me wished we had more time together.

  Then use the time you have.

  I opened my eyes and stared up at the ceiling. I pondered the thought, long and hard, and just thinking about Chance holding me, his hands all over my body, made me a little wet. I closed my legs and curled onto my side, trying to think of anything else to get my mind off the absurdity of what I was considering.

  But it wouldn’t go away.

  Now or never, girl. Get your ass up and at him.

  I made up my mind instantly, threw the covers off, and rolled out of bed. The hardwood floor was warm against my bare feet, and I quickly made my way down the hall. I hesitated at the top of the staircase. What if he didn’t want me that way? What if this was a one-way street? I couldn’t bear the thought of being embarrassed in my own house. If he turned me down, it would be impossible to avoid him until he left.

  Worth the shot. Go for it.

  I bit my lip, threw caution to the wind, and made my way downstairs.

  He hadn’t slept yet and was sitting on the couch, clad only in a pair of pants, holding a book in his hands and reading the back. In the dim light of the table lamp, his body seemed to ripple with muscles, and I found myself staring for what seemed like forever. He must have felt my presence, because he quickly turned to where I was standing and frowned.

  “Ashlyn?” he asked, putting the book down on the coffee table. “What’s wrong? Did you hear something?”

  I bit my lip again and shook my head, willing my body to move instead of just standing there like an idiot.

  “What is it?” he asked again, slowly standing up.

  My eyes traced the lines of his muscles, and when I looked into his eyes, the ocean blues were glimmering like a sea under the moonlight. I could have stared at him forever. Instead, I forced myself forward, moving quickly before my mind caught up with my emotions and started screaming about how much of a mistake this would be. He watched me approach, confusion etched all over his face, but he didn’t pull back when I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips against his.

  He kissed me back. And the way he did removed any doubt in my mind that he didn’t feel the way I did right now. His hands held me by the waist and his lips entangled with mine. I kissed him with urgency, a deep need that I did not know I had, and was rewarded with much of the same.

  “Ashlyn, are you sure you –”

  “Shut up, Chance,” I interrupted, kissing him again, pushing my body closer to his until I felt like I could somehow dissolve inside him. His lips were warm, his hands strong, and I felt like my body would go completely numb against his touch. He found his way under my shirt, wrapping me in his arms as his hands explored my back, the intensity of our kiss magnifying as he touched me. I wanted him to hold me like this forever. I wanted to feel his hands all over my body. I wanted his lips to explore every inch of me.

  My hands explored his naked chest, tracing the lines of his muscles as I sighed into his kiss. I felt my entire body sizzle, an excitement rising inside me that was so overwhelming, it threatened to consume me completely. His hands found their way to the small of my back, and as he pulled me closer to him, deeper into his embrace, I could feel his excitement, too.

  “Upstairs,” I mumbled against his lips.

  He didn’t reply, only looked at me and waited until I grabbed him by the hand and led him up the flight of stairs to my room. As soon as we were past the threshold, he turned me around to face him and picked up where we had left off. His hands ravaged me, feeling their way across every inch of me, his lips devouring me hungrily. And I kissed him back with equal need, equal hunger.

  I didn’t even need to maneuver him towards the bed; we just drifted towards it, like our bodies knew where they were supposed to go. He laid me down softly, tenderly, something I thought would be a problem for him with the way he was shaped. But even with all those muscles, he moved with such agility, such grace, it excited me. My mind instantly drew up images of what he could do to me, even though I knew I only needed to wait a few minutes for the imagination to become a reality.

  He pushed my shirt up, and slowly slid it over my head, his lips immediately kissing my neck and tracing a line down to my chest. His hands held me by the waist, soft yet firm, as he kissed the skin above my breasts and slowly moved downwards. I felt a shudder hit me when his lips brushed against my nipples, and when he took one in his mouth, I softly moaned my approval.

  He squeezed my other breast softly, pinching gently on the nipple while he sucked on the other. He nibbled, traced circles around it with his tongue, flicked at it, and with every new touch, bolts of electricity shot through me. He kissed his way back up and found my lips, his body pressing down on mine. I reveled in the sensation of our skin touching, of his wa
rmth mixing with my own, making me want him even more.

  Sitting up, he met my gaze and slowly pulled my shorts and panties off together, sliding them down my legs and tossing them off the side of the bed. He bent down, kissing my stomach, his lips forming a path to my sides and down to my hips, slowly moving to the inside of my thighs. My hands curled around the sheets in anticipation as I watched him. I could feel his breath across my clit, the light flick of his tongue against my pussy lips. My hips began to grind on their own, like my body was taking control of the situation, ignoring any instructions my brain might have to give.

  But that wouldn’t have mattered anyway. My mind was numb, and all I could think about was how much I wanted, how badly I needed this very moment.

  He looked up at me, gave me a wicked little smile, and buried his face between my legs. I almost lost it right then and there. The touch of his lips against my most sensitive area, the way his tongue hungrily buried itself between my pussy lips, licking in long strides up and down. He found my clit and sucked at it, gently at first, then more hungrily. I closed my legs against the sides of his head and curled my fingers in his hair, my hips bucking, grinding, moving against his face as his tongue explored me. He shifted, and I moaned in pleasure when I felt his fingers slide inside me.

  My pussy instantly clenched down, tightening around his fingers as I felt him fill me up. He rolled them inside me, making sure he touched every part of me, making me squirm as he slid them in and out.