Ash Rising (DEAd Series)

by Melissa Fox

  “Hey.”

  She remained oblivious, and he took advantage of the opportunity to look his fill. Clear, fair skin, sun reflecting off her dark curls, slim waist, full ass, and captivating, curvy breasts, which he definitely liked.

  Liz danced a small step forward, almost bumping into him, and he grabbed her upper arms to hold her steady. Her long-lashed eyes flew open, and she jerked a hand up to break his hold. Hot coffee sprayed in a wide arc. He jumped back to avoid getting burned and brushed at the small drops that splattered his jeans.

  “Jeez!” She dropped her newspaper and clutched a hand to her chest. A really very nice chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me?” He fought a grin. “What’s wrong with you, standing in the middle of downtown oblivious to the world?”

  “Oh.” The irritation drained from her features as she stared up at him. “It’s you.”

  “Ash,” he supplied, fixated on a bead of coffee and cream on her collarbone. “You’ve got a little, uh, right there.”

  He reached out but forced himself to stop before he touched her soft skin.

  “I remember you, Ash.” She rubbed at the drop and tried to hide the fact she was checking him out.

  His gaze followed the motion of her fingers, and he swallowed. “You do?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled and put her hands on her hips. “I’m surprised, though.”

  “Surprised? How’s that?”

  “I thought you’d call.” She examined his face and then mimicked the expression, her eyebrow arched mockingly.

  She… What? “You thought I’d call? I did call. Well, I tried to call. I talked to Gina, but she wouldn’t give me your number. Rico had no idea how to get in touch with you, and neither did anyone else.”

  “You talked to Gina?”

  “Yes. She said she had no idea where you were staying or your phone number.”

  “She did, did she?” Liz frowned, finger tapping her lip. “That little liar.”

  “You’re saying Gina knows where you’re staying?” Fucking Gina.

  Liz tipped her head, and a grin spread across her face. “Well, she should. I’m staying with her.”

  “That little—” He caught himself just in time. “That little fibber.”

  Liz laughed, her eyes bright. She was about the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. “Fibber? Jeez, what are you? Eighty years old?”

  She shook her hand to get rid of the last droplets of coffee, and guilt prompted him to speak. “Here, let me buy you another drink, at least. Sorry I spilled the one you had.”

  “You didn’t spill it.” A smile lingered on her lips. “I managed that all on my own.”

  “Still,” he insisted, reaching for the cup.

  She scowled and twisted to keep the mangled container out of his grasp. “No, it’s fine. Really. There’s still some left.”

  He snagged the cup out of her hand thanks to his longer reach, and she huffed out a breath. Tipping the cup back, he swallowed the remaining liquid and then gave her a smug grin. “Not anymore.”

  She stared, open-mouthed, and a pretty crimson flush stained her cheeks.

  “I can’t… Why would you…Why did you…? What the hell is wrong with you?” she spluttered for the second time that day.

  “Come on.” He put his hand on the small of her back, confident she’d go with him. No one ever turned him down. “Told you I’d buy you another one.”

  She planted her feet. “You can’t go and drink someone’s coffee just because you want to buy them another.”

  “Why not?” He flashed the smile that always got him what he wanted.

  “Why what?” She stared.

  He smiled wider. “Come on. Let me buy you a coffee, Liz.”

  “Okay.” Her gaze trailed down his arm to his outstretched hand before she placed her fingers in his.

  “See? Not so bad, right?” He turned and started down the sidewalk. The afternoon was shaping up to be much more promising than he’d anticipated. He had to meet Rico for a delivery but not for a couple hours. No better way to spend the time than taking a pretty girl to his bed. Talking her into going to the coffee shop with him had been easy, so getting her to his apartment shouldn’t be too difficult.

  She kept her hand in his as they walked down the block. He liked the feel, so smooth, soft, and small. Feminine, and he loved feminine. He caught her staring at their twined fingers and bit back a grin, slowing his pace so he walked next to her. Liz drew a long breath and stared at his face for a few more steps before forcing her gaze forward. The grin quivered on his lips.

  “So, why doesn’t Gina want you to talk to me?” she burst out.

  His optimistic mood dimmed. Damn Gina. “Because she’s—”

  He started to answer honestly and say Gina was jealous, but he didn’t want to go there. The two were obviously close if Liz was staying at her house. Stating Gina was a jealous little…grudge-holder would not be wise at all.

  “Because she knows you’re too good for me,” he finished smoothly.

  Liz shook her head, but a hint of a smile curved her mouth. Ash held the door to the coffee shop open and placed a hand low on her back as he escorted her inside, caressing the dip of her spine just above that intriguing swell of hip and ass. Her head snapped around at the contact, her cheeks flushed, and he let his hand linger.

  Once inside, he ordered her a caramel macchiato and a plain coffee for himself, liberally dousing the steaming liquid with cream while she took a cautious sip of her drink.

  “How did you know?” she asked with a raised brow and lift of the cup.

  He guided her toward an empty table in the corner and pulled out a chair. “I tasted yours, remember?”

  She scowled, but her lips twitched as she glanced at the clock on her phone. “Thank you for the drink—the replacement drink—but I need to be going.”

  “You don’t have a few minutes?” He gave her his most charming, engaging smile, and her expression softened. “I didn’t know if I would ever find you, and then there you were. It’s fate. You don’t want to tempt fate, do you?”

  “No. No, I don’t.” Returning his smile, she dropped into the chair.

  “Good.” He sat and leaned toward her to create a more intimate space. “So, tell me about yourself, Liz.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know why you’re different. I want to know why you’ve kept me up the past few nights wondering about you. Wondering how I was going to manage to see you again.”

  She stared at him with wide eyes. “Who says stuff like that?”

  He stroked the back of her hand with one coffee-warmed finger. “It’s true.”

  “You are trouble.” She shook her head, glancing away to take a sip of her drink.

  Ah, good. He recognized—and welcomed—her discomfort. Her responsiveness to him. “You looking for trouble, Liz?”

  “I wasn’t, but I think it found me.”

  He laughed and settled her nerves as they talked, pulled her under his comfortable spell but kept her on an edge of sexual awareness with light touches and heated stares.

  “I’m from a small fishing town up the coast,” she told him. “I got my undergrad at Guelph and came here for my master’s degree in psychology. I’m staying with Gina to save some money my first term. We’ll see how things go after that.”

  “Hard to be away from your family?”

  “My mom died when I was young. My sister—older—she and her husband pretty much raised me. Dad works on a fishing boat, so he wasn’t home very much.”

  “I couldn’t imagine losing either of my parents, especially as a child.” Ash set his hand over hers and brushed his fingers along the back.

  “Are you close to your parents?”

  “I don’t see them as often as I’d like, I guess.”

  “They don’t live nearby?”

  “Not exactly. It’s more that my job keeps me away.” Ash wove half-truths wi
th consummate skill.

  She pulled her hand away to wrap around her cup. When she looked up at him, wariness weighted her eyes. “What do you do, Ash? For work?”

  “I run a business that expedites shipments out of the airport and Port of Toronto. Keeps me busy.”

  “Expedites shipments,” she repeated, doubt clear in her voice.

  “What?”

  She shrugged but dropped her gaze to the table. “It’s none of my business, but Gina said a few things about her brother, about how he makes his living and the people he hangs out with.”

  “Hey.” He curled his little finger around hers as she turned her coffee mug, waiting until she brought her embarrassed gaze to his. “What I do is absolutely legitimate.”

  She remained silent as she searched his face.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “It really is none of my business.”

  “You can ask whatever you’d like.” He had no problem dancing around the truth and maintaining his cover while being as honest as possible.

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No.” At least she’d been satisfied with his answers about what he did for a living. “Just me.”

  “I miss my sister,” she admitted. “Lisa. It’s so hard for me to get home once school starts. She and her husband both work full-time, so isn’t easy for them to come to the city, either.”

  “I have a good friend I grew up with named Lisa.”

  She grinned and peeked up at him. “A good friend, huh?”

  He liked how the smile lit her face. “She really is just that. We’ve known each other since we were six years old.”

  “And nothing romantic between you,” she stated, as if she didn’t believe it.

  “Nope.” He made an X over his heart. “I swear. I grew up with her and my two other closest friends.”

  Those details had already been established in his undercover background. Any UC worth a damn knew the wisest course was to stick as close to the truth as possible.

  “So.” She chewed her lip. “Is there anything romantic between you and anybody else right now?”

  His gaze shot to hers at the unexpected question, but she concentrated stubbornly on his sternum.

  “Is that your way of asking if I’m seeing anyone?” he teased.

  “No! No.” Her cheeks flamed bright with color. She covered her face with her hands, fingers spread slightly, one eye blinking at him from between her knuckles as she heaved a breath. “Okay, yes. I guess it is.”

  He had to get her in his bed and soon. Man, she was pretty. “I am not committed to or involved with anyone seriously at the moment.”

  “Oh.” Her voice was a breath of sound, but she returned his smile. The cell phone next to her elbow buzzed and jittered on the hard surface of the table. She jumped and then scooped the phone up to peer at the display.

  “Oh! That’s my alarm. I’ve got to go.” Her face fell even as she raised stricken eyes to his.

  Ash glanced down at his watch to cover a stab of disappointment. He shot back in his chair and almost bolted from the table when he noted the time. “Shit! Is it really almost three?”

  He’d sat across from her at the small, uncomfortable table all afternoon and just talked. If he didn’t leave right away and haul ass… Yeah. He’d never, ever been late for a delivery and if he was, shit wouldn’t begin to cover the clusterfuck he’d cause. He’d lost track of time in the novelty of actually having a conversation with a girl. Had that ever happened before? Just talking with a pretty girl instead of getting her between his sheets? Strange. He had absolutely no regret for how they’d spent the afternoon.

  “Hey.” He grabbed her hand as she gathered up her things and stood. “Since Gina’s being such a”—bitch—“hardass about things, let me give you my number just in case. Okay?”

  Liz looked up at him with wide eyes and nodded. She made no move to get a piece of paper, and he’d forgotten to grab a napkin, so he snatched a marker from where it stuck out of the zipper of her bag. Turning her hand over in his so the palm faced up, open and vulnerable, he stuck the pen between his teeth to remove the cap. His gaze held hers until he lowered the marker to her palm, tickling sensitive skin with the wide, soft tip. He pressed occasionally, enjoying her shiver as he wrote his cell number on her hand.

  Her attention lingered on his mouth as he pulled the cap from his teeth. He handed her the marker, but her gaze had gone to her hand to examine the numbers he had written like they were a foreign language. Closing her fingers over his scrawl, she darted a look up to see if he’d noticed her preoccupation. Ash brought her fist to his mouth and brushed his lips across her fingers, much like he had the first time he’d seen her. He left her skin slightly damp with the promise of more intimate touches.

  “Call me.”

  He repressed the urge to bite her knuckles, scrape his teeth in a slow, shuddering glide across the back of her hand. He could have her—all he had to do was press her delicate skin and bone between his teeth and say the words. She’d go with him to his apartment and spend the rest of the afternoon in his bed, gliding her teeth along his skin and bone, but if he didn’t leave right that instant, he’d end up in a body bag or worse by evening.

  “I’ll see you later, Liz,” he promised, and let go of her hand. Shit. Way past time for him to leave.

  “Thanks for the coffee.”

  Ash paused for one last look. He nodded, winked, and bolted out the door.

  Ash made it to Port of Toronto in time for the delivery and met Rico as the first duffel bag full of heroin was off-loaded. The interception would be easy for the RCMP officers. A vehicle driven by a UC would hit the car carrying the shipment. With good timing and careful planning, they could get the drugs off the street before they left the city, and his cover would remain intact. The confiscation wouldn’t be traced back to him.

  Rico came up and clapped him on the back, all smiles. “Another one for the books. That was aces, my friend. Let’s go celebrate.”

  He tucked a fat envelope into Ash’s jacket, and Ash nodded his thanks. The haul had been lucrative, and Rico was pleased with their end of the job. He slid into the backseat of Rico’s black sedan, while Slick got behind the wheel and Rico went around to the passenger side.

  “Clyde’s,” Rico instructed. “Drinks are on me tonight, boys.”

  Ash saw her the second he walked into the crowded bar. Trained to be aware of his surroundings, he was certain he would have noticed her anyway.

  Liz.

  She sat at a table with Gina and three of their friends. Sliding into Rico’s usual booth with the others, he made sure to face her table so he could watch without being obvious. Rico saw Gina and sent her a nod, catching Ash’s stare at the group of girls. He glanced back and forth between the two tables and scowled.

  “We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

  “Can you think of a better way?” Ash asked with a careless grin, arching a brow and giving up on subtlety as he eased out of the booth.

  “Fucking Ash.” Rico shook his head.

  “That’s the plan.”

  Rico’s reluctant laughter followed him across the bar, but his focus was on Liz. She talked animatedly with the group and looked up when the other girls fell silent at his approach. A smile curled her mouth, and she leaned back to examine him from head to toe, her eyes lighting with awareness. He put an extra swagger in his step and added a slow roll to his hips to give her something to appreciate.

  “Ladies,” he acknowledged with a sweeping glance and dazzling smile before fastening his gaze on Liz again. “Liz.”

  She unconsciously licked her lips, and satisfaction warmed his belly—and lower. “Care to dance?”

  He held out his hand but made no other move, waiting to see if she’d respond to his summons. Her gaze narrowed playfully on his. She’d definitely caught on to his game. His dick—and his mind—leapt in anticipation. He couldn’t remember when an opponent had challenged him mentally
as well as sexually.

  Her friends sent speculative stares his way as she wriggled out of the booth and placed her palm against his. The glare Gina cast him wasn’t speculative at all, more like mean and derisive. Easy enough to ignore when Liz gave him a soft, teasing smile and brushed against his chest as she led the way to the dance floor.

  Ash slowed his gait to tease, to see what she would do. Liz laughed and walked backward, somehow avoiding the other moving bodies as she shook her hips and swung their still-joined hands. Pulling her close, Ash gave a slow shimmy, a graceful undulation, then wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her flush against his chest. Their hips bumped, slid, and fell into rhythm. His arm tightened to ease her closer as her legs tangled with his, but she resisted with an arch of her brow. A quick twist bought her an instant of freedom, but he held her hand and stood firm when she hit the end of their combined reach. He spun her back until she rested neatly under his arm. Against his side.

  Liz let loose a delighted laugh and countered by brushing her breasts lightly—oh, so lightly—against his arm. Another song started, the tempo still upbeat, but Ash slowed and tugged her close when she tried to take a step away. He tucked her into his body so they touched from knee to chin, smiling into her hair when she relaxed and rested her head on the swell of his chest. She folded their twined hands next to her cheek and swayed to the rhythm he set, ignoring the driving beat of the music and the other people dancing around them.

  He stroked a hand down her back, repeating the motion until she sighed and went limp. The capitulation pressed their bodies together in interesting and thrilling places, just as he’d intended. Ash bent his head and lowered his shoulders until he surrounded her, creating their own intimate space on the dance floor. His back arched over her much shorter body, but having her in his arms felt so good he easily ignored the slight discomfort. Her breath hitched as he ran the edge of his mouth along her jaw to the soft, sensitive skin of her lower lip, not quite kissing, not quite caressing. Increasing the contact until the stroke was almost a kiss, he paused and waited. Another breath shivered her slight frame as she angled her chin to capture his mouth, seek his lips. He let them hover an inch, a fraction, a breath away, and then with a slow, easy swipe, the tip of his tongue touched her trembling mouth.