Ashes & Embers Series Collection (Books 1 to 4)

by Carian Cole

  20

  TALON

  TWO MONTHS WITH NO PUSSY. First, the weeks prior to the wedding, and now the weeks since the wedding. I'm losing my fucking mind with my dick in this prison of commitment to a girl who served it a sentence of life with the possibility of parole for good behavior.

  Love.

  It's what she wants—and needs.

  It's what I didn't think I needed in life.

  Could I love her?

  Could she love me?

  She's annoying. She gets under my skin. She's so fucking good. She turns everything into a debate. But yeah, I dig her little ass. And those lavender eyes could pretty much make me beg if she knew how to work them. She makes me laugh. I've never met a chick like her before, and a little over a month into our marriage, I'm starting to think I don't want to live without her.

  Going without sex sucks but I still can't keep my hands off her, always wanting to be touching her, holding her hand, having her as close to me as I can get her. When she hugs me and falls asleep against me, everything just feels right. I've never been affectionate or craved closeness with someone before she came along, and now, I catch myself actually daydreaming about her when I'm at the studio practicing or while I'm driving around. I actually had some asshole leaning on his horn screaming at me because I sat at a red light that turned green for two seconds while I was spacing out thinking about how she smiled at me the night before.

  I never thought this would happen.

  All this I write in my journal, but I don't divulge it to Dr. Hollister during our video chats because I'm not ready to verbalize how I feel yet, even to Asia. It's been a few days since the club disaster, and she's still not quite right with me. I know it's my own damn stupid fault.

  She doesn't know this, but I watch her sometimes on the surveillance system, which I can access from my cell phone when I'm not at home. I only watch her in her craft room, and I love seeing her so focused on her work, sitting at the sewing machine, putting clothes on the mannequin she has, talking to the cat, and sometimes she'll have music on and will sing and dance around the room. That silly side of her gets me every time. She truly is in her own little world, and I want to get in there with her.

  Closing the journal, I watch the sun set from the huge rock I'm perched on in the backyard. Then I go back inside the house where she's in the kitchen making some kind of dessert that smells delicious, so I beeline in there and find a plate of cupcakes on the counter. Her back is to me as she's rinsing some dishes, so I sneak one and take a big bite.

  And gag.

  She twirls around. "Talon! No!" She lunges at me and actually sticks her hand in my mouth like I'm a dog and pulls out the cupcake.

  "That's a bath bomb!" she yells. "Go rinse your mouth with some water."

  Still gagging, I run to the sink and stick my mouth under the tap and rinse it out, spitting the weird flavor out.

  "What the hell are you making soap that looks like food for?" I demand, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

  "People like it! It's cute."

  "It's gross!"

  "Well, you're not supposed to eat it. Do you just walk around putting anything that looks good in your mouth?"

  "Yeah. Usually."

  She bursts out laughing. "You're insane."

  Staring at the plate of fake cupcakes, I can't believe they're not real food. I still want one. "They look so realistic," I tell her. "You actually made those?"

  "Yes. I make soap bars too and scrubs and lotions. It's all made with essential oils and natural creams and scents."

  I had no idea this was the kind of bath stuff she made. "Wow. They smell great. Is this why your skin is always so soft? From this stuff?"

  Her cheeks turn pink and her head bows down. "Yeah… Probably. Hang on a sec." She disappears down the hall to her craft room and comes back with a little gift box. "This is a vanilla lavender soap bar. Use it when you shower tonight and let me know what you think."

  "I just shouldn't eat it, right?"

  "No, please don't," she teases back, standing with her hands clasped behind her back, grinning at me and looking adorable.

  "What else do you make?"

  "Um…sometimes candles and lip balm too."

  "Aha! So that's why your lips always taste so good." I give her a sideways glance and grin, fighting the urge to taste her lips right now. "Now I know your secrets."

  "I'm glad you like it. I didn't even think you noticed that sort of thing."

  "Oh, trust me, baby, I notice what you feel and taste like." Opening the small box, I wink at her and sniff the soap. "We have to tell Evie, Mom, and Rayne about this too. They'll probably love it. And the girls in Sugar Kiss."

  "Sugar Kiss, the band?" she repeats with eyes wide like saucers.

  "Yeah, we're friends with them. They’ll totally love all this. Oh—and the stage clothes. I'll bet they would love some outfits. I'll call Sydney and talk to her about it."

  "Talon…you really think all these people will buy my stuff? The ones who contacted me online too?" she asks in disbelief.

  "Hellz yeah, baby. I got lots of wild ideas for clothes to show you. We're gonna rock their worlds."

  Her entire face lights up at my words. "I would absolutely love that. Are you really going to work on designing and fabricating with me? I kinda need your help to do this right. You've seen more of this type of clothing than I have."

  "Of course I am. Didn't I say I would? Just don't let me near that sewing machine. It looks dangerous."

  Having some "us" activities is something Dr. Hollister mentioned would be helpful, so maybe partnering up with Asia to design clothes will bring us closer together and give us some common ground to stand on.

  SEVERAL TIMES A WEEK, Asia takes a long bath in the huge, jetted bathtub in our master bathroom. She lights candles, plays soft music on the mp3 player, and now I know she's soaking in these yummy smelling bath bomb things she makes. She always closes the door when she bathes, and it drives me nuts, lying in bed while I know she's just a few feet away, behind that door, naked. I've always respected her privacy, understanding she deserves time to unwind and chill like everyone else does—especially after putting up with me all day. But since she caught me jerking off in the shower, I wonder if she thinks of me and touches herself when she's bathing. The possibility of that has fueled a spark that has been growing into a full-blown inferno inside me for days now. Tonight, something gets me in a mood and I can't take it anymore, so I wait about ten minutes after she shuts herself in the bathroom to slowly push the door open and invade her little personal spa.

  At first she doesn't even know I'm there, and I have the pleasure of seeing her lying back, her eyes closed, one leg bent up and peeking out from the bubbles. And damn those fucking bubbles, they're covering everything else.

  The universe is doing everything it can to prevent me from seeing my wife naked. I would laugh at that fact if it didn't bug me so damn much. I'm pretty sure karma is slapping me in the face for insulting her so many times, and karma is a bitch who has no fucks to give about my blue balls.

  Her eyes suddenly snap open and she jumps when she sees me, water splashing around her.

  "Tally, you scared the shit out of me. Why are you creeping around?" She crosses her arms over her chest and a few bubbles float up in the air. I love that my childhood nickname just slipped out of her mouth without her even realizing it. It sounded so intimate on her lips that I want to hear her say it again and again.

  "I wasn't creeping; I just walked in. Should I wear a bell around my neck like the Princess?" I lean against the doorframe and gaze at her in the candlelight, her skin dewy from the moist heat, and I can't understand why she doesn't want me in that tub with her.

  "What are you doing in here?"

  I cross the room and kneel down next to the tub, taking in the way her eyes shift to my naked chest.

  "I wanted to see your bath bomb in action." My eyes travel languidly down the length of her in the
tub and catch glimpses of pink water under the bubbles.

  "This one is actually a bubble bomb. See the bubbles?" She lifts her hand and blows the bubbles up over my head.

  I grab her hand and bring it to my lips. "I see that. Pink water, too. Very pretty." I close my eyes as I kiss her hand, tasting the sweet water on her. "What flavor are you tonight? It's yummy."

  She swallows and I can feel her hand trembling ever so slightly in mine. "It's cotton candy."

  I nod my approval. "I like it. A lot."

  She shifts in the water, lowering the leg that was up and raising the other, giving me a quick glimpse of her thigh as she does so.

  "Do you think about me when you're in here?" I ask her, releasing her hand so I can dip my fingers into the warm water.

  "I think about you all the time."

  My heart does a funny lurch I'm pretty sure it ain't never done before. "Well, that's just about the best thing I've ever heard."

  I let my hand slide farther into the water until it's gliding over her outer thigh under the bubbles. "The water feels slippery," I comment. "So does your skin."

  "It's from the oils."

  Stretching my other arm out along the edge of the tub, I lean toward her face. "I like how it feels. I should be in there with you, all slippery and wet."

  "You're too big," she murmurs, locking her eyes on to mine.

  Laughing, I kiss her vanilla-flavored lips. "I'm gonna ignore that big comment, baby."

  She smiles against my mouth. "You're so bad."

  "I know… So, I'm going to have to do this the hard way, then. Since I can't get in there." I slide my hand farther down her leg, over her knee to her calf, squeezing gently.

  "Do what?"

  "Give you your first orgasm."

  A small gasp of surprise comes out of her, and a seductive little grin graces her lips. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I've had orgasms before."

  "Not from me." I rub my nose along hers, feeling her breath against my face. "And that's gonna change right now, Mrs. Valentine."

  I cup the back of her head with one hand and press my mouth to hers, licking her lips while slowly dragging my other hand up the inside of her leg beneath the water to finally brush my fingers gently across her lower lips. I silently curse the water for not letting me feel her wetness.

  Her mouth opens to mine and I delve my tongue inside, tasting the heat of her breath and catching the sweet moan she lets out when I push my finger into her warmth. Her thighs part and her hand comes up out of the water to caress my cheek as I let my hand own her, my thumb rubbing her pulsing clit while I slip my fingers in and out of her. My cock throbs like mad in my shorts, begging to get into her. Holy fuck, is she tight. Three years of no sex is very, very good.

  Her thighs squeeze my hand and she grasps the side of my neck, her breath panting against my mouth, and I know she's there already. I really want to drag this out, tease her and make her crazy, but that seems cruel right now when she's writhing her hot little core all over my hand and devouring my lips. I like horny little Asia. A lot.

  I want to pull her out of the tub and take her right here on the floor, putting an end to this madness, but I'm hell-bent on sticking to my promise to her, even if my dick hates me.

  Her walls clench and drench around my swirling fingers up inside her, while the rest of her body arches up, pressing against me, her muscles tightening and quivering. I kiss her softly as she recovers from the first of many sexual escapades I have planned for her now that the doors have been opened, so to speak.

  "Who's my girl?" I whisper against her ear, moving my hand up to caress her stomach.

  "Me," she answers breathlessly.

  "That's right."

  My girl. The last thing I thought I would ever want, and now, all I could ever want.

  21

  ASIA

  STANDING SLOWLY, he grabs my towel off the rack and lays it over the edge of the tub for me, all the while smiling that adorable, yet dangerously sexy grin.

  "I'll let you finish your bath now."

  Wordlessly, I watch his muscular form leave the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

  I take a deep breath and exhale. Oh my God. I wasn't expecting that at all. The way he stalks me like a tiger to kiss and touch me is so incredibly sensual. I had no idea men could be that way, but every time he does it, I want to just roll over on my back and purr like a kitten and let him do whatever he wants.

  Pulling the plug in the tub, I watch the pink water swirl and disappear as I put on a T-shirt and panties, still feeling the after-wooziness of his touch. The last time I had an orgasm is a distant non-memorable memory, but I definitely do not remember it feeling as amazing as what he just made me feel.

  I can't help but smile, my heart doing a flip-flop, when I go out into our bedroom and find him lying on the bed with Pixie planted directly on his bare chest, staring into his eyes.

  "She's starting to love you," I comment, getting under the sheets next to him.

  He rubs her tiny head affectionately into his palm. "She's much easier to win over than her mother."

  Lying on my stomach, I lean up on my elbows to look at him. "I'm not sure about that," I tease. "It seems you have magic fingers."

  He turns his head to smile playfully at me. "I have a few other magical body parts if you're interested. Just sayin'."

  I press my smiling lips against his shoulder. "I'm sure you do."

  Gently picking up the cat and placing her at the foot of the bed, he turns on his side and props himself up on his elbow, his face just a couple of inches from mine, a few strands of his hair falling over his eyes.

  "I was thinking…" He moves his hand slowly back and forth across my lower back. "Maybe we should just let things happen."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Instead of waiting for all these feelings to happen before you're ready to have sex, maybe we should just live in the moment and let it happen. If the other feelings surface, great. Love doesn't always have to come first. Maybe for us, that's going to happen last. We're doing everything else ass-backwards."

  "Oh…" I can barely see his eyes in the darkness of the room, but I know him well enough to tell by the soft, deep tone of his voice and the gentle caress of his hand on my back that he's serious, which is rare for him. I only wish his words didn't make my heart hurt so much, especially when what he's saying is sincere. They just aren't the words I wanted to hear. That's my fault, though, and not his. I can't expect him to feel something just because I was hoping he would, to fulfill the little dream in my own head and heart. He has his own dreams and wants, and falling in love with me probably isn't one of them.

  His hand moves higher up my back, beneath my T-shirt, the warmth of his touch comforting but also electrifying. "You get what I'm saying, right?"

  "Yes, I do." The tiny waver in my voice betrays my attempts to sound happy and okay with it. Just five minutes ago, I was in orgasmic bliss with him, melting into his hand, reveling in the passion of his kisses and touch, stupidly thinking his touch meant much more than it did. Now it feels like it all went down the drain with my pink cotton candy water.

  He lifts his hand out from under my shirt and combs his fingers through my long hair. "Aze?" he questions. "Why are you upset?"

  "I'm not," I lie.

  My body tingles as his fingers lightly brush over my scalp. "You are; don't say you're not. I can tell."

  "I'm fine. Really."

  "Well, it's not like you're in love with me or anything, either. We're supposed to go on our honeymoon soon, and since I only plan on getting married once, it would be nice to enjoy it. Don't you agree?"

  Not in love with me, either.

  That's all I can hear, echoing in my head. My poor heart, already falling cautiously in love, opens a ripped parachute and prepares for a messy, horrific landing.

  "Of course I want to enjoy it," I force out, wondering if he plans to be married without love. To just be friends and have sex, which, I gues
s, isn't the worse thing in the world. I just had hoped for more. I wanted the love of a lifetime. I wanted to be holding his hand when we're old and gray and still see the man who stole my heart and makes forever seem like not long enough to share with him.

  I roll over and turn toward the wall instead of hugging his chest like we've been sleeping lately, and his sigh permeates the quiet room.

  "I thought what happened earlier was good. Why are you distancing yourself from me?"

  "I'm not. I'm just going to sleep."

  "You didn't like it?"

  I close my eyes and count backward from five. "Of course I liked it."

  His muscular arm comes around me and pulls my back against his chest, molding his body to mine, and of course, I can feel every hard inch of him.

  "What is it about you that I can't get enough of?" he whispers, burying his face in my hair. "I don't know if it's because you always smell and feel so good, or what."

  Or maybe you do love me, you idiot.

  Does he just not know what love feels like? Of course, that would be my luck. Give me this crazy sexy guy I didn't want to begin with, get me to fall in love with him, only to find out that he doesn't know how to tell if he's in love or not.

  "Aze?"

  "Hmmm?"

  "Can you make real cupcakes? Like ones I can eat?"

  "Are you seriously talking about food right now?"

  "Yeah. Smelling those soapy ones got me craving cupcakes now. I could ask Gram to make me some if you don't want to."

  How can I even stay mad him when he's asking for cupcakes? "No. I'll make you cupcakes tomorrow if you go to sleep."

  "Deal." He presses his foot against mine, his signature "I'm closing my eyes now" move.

  Totally oblivious to my heartache, he asks for cupcakes. This could only happen to me.

  "ASIA, HOW ARE THINGS GOING NOW?" Dr. Hollister questions from the laptop screen. "Happy two-month anniversary!"

  "Thank you…" I didn't realize this week was two months already. I've stopped counting days and now just live in each moment we share. How ironic, just like the words he inscribed on my wedding band: