“I’m not asking for the dirty details dear girl, but just answer me this. Does my grandson measure up to past experiences?”
Having taken a sip of her tea to try and gather her thoughts, Ashley wound up spitting it out. And in Lillian’s direction. Almost immediately, the very attentive shadow in the room, dashed to her side with a white handkerchief.
“Here we are now Ms. Ashley.”
“Thank you Bernard,” she responded, shocked that she had actually forgotten that he was in the room.
“Oh do quit hovering Bernard and sit down. You’re welcome to join in the conversation, but you have to dish out your fair share as well. Just remember, I know you’ve been sneaking out at night to spend time was that new gardener, what’s his name?”
“Adam, Ms. Lillian.”
“Ah yes, Adam. Now there is a fine looking young man.” As Devon’s grandmother smiled her dreamy smile, Ashley breathed a mental sigh of relief. Maybe she was going to get out of here today without spilling what Lillian wanted to hear most–how Devon had managed to get her into ‘the sack’.
She must have made some sign of relief though, because Lillian’s gaze turned to her. “Don’t worry dear, I haven’t forgotten about you. So tell, how did Devon manage to convince you to bed him?”
Lost in her memories, she didn’t hear the door open. The first sign she was no longer alone was the warmth of Devon’s hands on her shoulders. “Ashley honey? Dinner’s done.”
Opening her eyes, she looked into his gaze, into eyes the mirror of his grandmother’s, and burst into tears. Within moments, she found herself curled up in his lap, balling like a newborn baby, the front of his shirt soaked with her tears.
Soothing and patient, his hands ran over her back, smoothed her hair down, and he simply held her as she mourned.
* * * *
Ashley stood at the window looking out over the dreary day, feeling much like the weather outside. Ever since she had allowed her grief to overwhelm her, she had worked twice as hard to keep it contained. Lillian would have wanted her to move on, to remember the good times, but she was finding it harder to not dwell.
First the baby, then her husband, and now the woman who was arguably her best friend. If things didn’t work out with Devon this time, she wasn’t certain she would survive it.
She smelled Devon before she saw him, the faint yet heady scent of his cologne. Warm hands settled on her hips, and slowly Devon pressed against her back, his arms wrapping around her waist. His chin came to rest on the top of her head, and in the silence, she could hear her heart pick up its pace.
Almost dreamily, she relaxed back against him, the familiarity of the pose offering a strange comfort to a world gone mad with grief.
She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, watching the rain fall, before the temperature in the room spiked. Devon pressed soft lips against her neck, and unconsciously Ashley closed her eyes and relaxed into the touch. She craved this, in a way she had never been able to deny. Devon had always known just where to touch, and he had never left her wanting while fulfilling himself.
Unable to handle the pain of reality, she let herself get lost in the moment, accepting the comfort he offered. As his hands slid up on her ribs, and cupped her breast through the thin T-shirt she was wearing, Ashley’s pussy clenched. Her body was coming awake after a long slumber.
Trembling at the surge of sensations that threatened to drown her, she tipped her head back and met Devon’s lips. It was only a brief brush of lips, but it renewed the demands of her body. Slowly, Devon’s hands stroked back down her body, coming to rest on her stomach.
Like a cold splash of water, it woke Ashley to the hear-and-now. Almost franticly, she pulled away and crossed the room. Panting at the pain that threatened to send her to her knees, she looked into Devon’s stricken eyes.
“Ash?” He reached out his hand, but Ash shook him off. Pressing her hands to her stomach, she could almost feel the echo of his touch, her skin still heated from his hands. Under her hands, where her baby should have rested, she felt empty.
“Baby, talk to me.”
“I can’t Devon. I can’t do this. Not yet.”
Running a hand through his hair, Devon paced across the room, agitation obvious with each step. As he paced back, she could see by the pinch of his lips that she wasn’t going to like what he had to say, but that he had bitten his tongue as long as he was going to.
“Do you think it was easy for me? Finding out that you lost the baby and not a damn member of my family cared enough to call me, until Nana found out what was going on? Do you think it didn’t rip me in fucking two to lose first the baby, and then you? To know that you were all alone in the hospital for two days! You’re not the only damn person hurting here Ash. I know you’re in pain, I know you’re confused and feeling lost and alone. But damnit, so am I.”
Before she had a chance to respond, Devon turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, the door whispering closed behind him.
* * * *
Almost a week later, Ashley was sitting on the bed, brushing her hair when Devon came into the room. With a quick glance at her watch, she saw that he was about an hour earlier that normal. Despite his grandmother’s death and their attempt at reconciliation, he had to work. His duties had actually increased, now that he was taking care of some of his grandmother’s investments, and clearing up financial matters.
Most of Lillian’s shares in companies, and responsibilities had gone to other family members. But her pet projects she had left to Devon. It was actually a blessing that she had. Otherwise, Ashley feared that Devon would have clung to her side, so worried about her and her sense of loss that he would have smothered her.
Part of it, she knew, was due to the loss of their baby. Having been out of the country, he knew some of the agony she had suffered alone.
With purposeful strides he crossed the room and leaned down, pressing a firm kiss against her lips. Startled, she found herself responding before she even knew what hit her. Devon had been affectionate over the last few days, holding her hand and touching her shoulder, even pulling her close for a hug. But not since her first night, had he kissed her, and then it had only been a soft press of his lips against her forehead as he held her.
As his tongue swept into her mouth, his hand cupped the back of her head, holding her still for his sensual assault. Breathless and lightheaded, Ashley opened her mouth further and allowed his tongue to rub against hers, to thrust into her mouth in a parody of what her body was craving. At the realization that her core was growing damp in preparation for his cock, she broke the kiss.
“Wha—?” She couldn’t manage to put her thoughts to words. Why had he done that? They had been taking things slow, and now this.
Devon’s hand relaxed in her hair, and gently he slid it down the side of her face until he cupped her cheek. Holding her still, he pressed a soft closed-mouth kiss against her lips then straightened.
“You just looked so beautiful sitting there that I couldn’t resist.”
Ashley pressed the fingertips of one hand against her lips as he turned away and headed into the bathroom, discarding his shirt and shoes along the way. As the shower turned on, she traced the pouting fullness of her well-kissed mouth.
“At least tell me this then. Can my grandson kiss?”
Lillian’s laughter filled the room as Ashley felt her face heat with a blush. Beside her, Bernard did his best not to chuckle and soon lost. “I, well, that is. Lillian! Really, this isn’t at all proper.”
Flustered beyond anything she could remember, Ashley tried to figure out how to get herself out of this mess. First Devon’s grandmother wanted to know about the sex life, and not getting the goods, she had settled on a tamer topic. But still it was one Ashley’s didn’t think appropriate to discuss with her boyfriend’s grandmother. the beloved matriarch of the family.
“Just answer her sweetie. It doesn’t get any better if you try and ignore it.” Glancing into Bern
ard’s knowing eyes, Ashley gave up and with a nervous giggle whispered, “Yes, he does know how to kiss.”
“I knew it!” Lillian clapped her hands together in glee. “At least one of the grandchildren has got it. Thankfully, it’s Devon.” Her joy transformed Lillian’s face, until she lost some of the aged look the years and many disappointments had put on her, and Ashley could see some of the young woman that was buried, but not forgotten, coming to life.
“So really dear girl, sure you don’t want to dish the dirt on your first night together?” The innocent look in Devon’s grandmother’s eyes should have clued her in. “I really would love to hear about it. It’s been so long since I have felt the touch of a man, that I find I can almost remember what goes where if I think really hard about it.”
Horrified at Lillian’s words, and stunned at the droll tone she delivered them in, Ashley collapsed against Bernard’s shoulder, surrendering to her laughter.
The shower shut off and Ashley pulled herself from the past and continued brushing her hair, trying to tame the wayward locks.
As Devon came back into the room, naught but a towel wrapped around his waist, she wanted to throw the hairbrush at him. Restraining the urge, more because it was an antique silver ivory handled brush that Lillian had given her, rather than because she didn’t want to leave a bruise on his tanned, toned body.
Without making a sound, she climbed to her feet and calmly left the room, as if the sight of his bare chest and legs wasn’t slowly turning her into a quivering mass of need.
* * * *
Ashley hesitantly opened the door to Nana’s bedroom a few days later, her heart aching as she was enveloped in the light floral scent the lady favored. As she stepped into the room, she could almost see Lillian propped up on her bed, a dozen pillows all around her as she watched her guilty pleasure–daytime soaps. She had spent hours laying across the foot of the bed, munching on whatever delicious snacks Nana had ordered for the day, talking to the wise woman while watching TV with her.
They’d had some of their best girl talks. More heart-to-hearts than anywhere else in the house, as if they had both reached an unspoken agreement to keep things completely serious while together alone in Lillian’s bedroom. It wasn’t a place for gossip, or for teasing. It was just the two of them alone, best friends. Crossing the room, Ashley flopped down on her back on the bed, tears shimmering in her eyes.
“Oh Lillian, what am I going to do?”
Turning on her side, she curled up on the comforter, pulling at partially around her as she poured out her pain to the one woman who she knew would understand.
“I love him so much! But god, it hurts. Looking into his eyes, wanting him so badly I shake with it, and then the pain returns. I died a little inside when we lost the baby, and I know he is going to eventually want another one. But what if I can’t carry to term?” Under the warmth of the comforter, Ashley pressed her hands tight against her stomach and gave her tears free reign.
Sometime later, she woke to firm hands lifting her. Only partially awake, she curled against Devon’s chest, trusting him not to drop her as he carried her down the hall to their bedroom. With a sleepy smile, she pressed a soft kiss against his jaw.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she snuggled close, murmuring a protest when he put her down on the bed and moved to pull away. Tightening her hold, she pulled him down with her, until his familiar weight settled against her body. Without opening her eyes, she ran her hands down his chest, stroking over the muscles he had had to work hard to attain. With so much of his life spent behind a desk, he had always taken an hour four times a week to hit the gym, something she had grown to very much appreciate. Especially once they got a home gym set, and she could watch him work out, the sweat dripping from his body.
His hands stroked over her back, and when Ashley moved to pull him over her, he held her still and whispered softly in her ear. She vaguely heard his words; soft apologies, love words, the outpouring of his pain. Emotionally exhausted, she laid in the circle of his arms, held safe and loved, and drifted back to sleep.
* * * *
Several days later, Ashley was still trying to settle into some semblance of a routine. Devon made sure that the staff knew not to disturb her when she was in the room he had designated as her studio. All of her canvases and paints had been brought from her apartment and set up in what had once been a sitting room. She could remember sitting there for hours, spending time with Devon’s grandmother, listening to stories about him as a child. If they weren’t in the library or her bedroom, then they were in here.
The only saving grace was that his family had left them alone, so far none daring to challenge the family matriarch’s wishes.
In the evenings, they had fallen into the pattern of sharing dinner together and then retiring to their suite, where Devon worked on paperwork and she read, watched TV or tried to ignore the way her body was demanding a response to her husband. Most evenings they sat around and talked, often about nothing in particular. Neither of them broached the subject they most needed to work past, the miscarriage and why she had walked out. He knew some of what had happened, but she hadn’t been able to tell him everything. And now, she wasn’t certain that she could relive it all again to tell him.
Their time in the evenings was almost like a memory, a dream of what it had been like on their honeymoon, minus the intense sex. Devon hadn’t tried to go beyond a few kisses since the day he had found her sleeping on his grandmother’s bed, and none had been as passionate as before that day. And as the days passed, she waited, uncertain how to approach the subject of a true reconciliation, uncertain if she was ready to pick things up where they had left off. Although she had been half asleep, she still remembered the things he had said, the pain that had laced every word.
She knew he wanted things the way they were. So it should have been easy to say “I don’t want a divorce. I want you.” But time after time she tried, and each time, the words got stuck. How could they go back to how they were, as if their baby had never happened? How could they bridge the pain that still separated them?
Her heart still ached, and sometimes she found herself rubbing a hand over her belly before she remembered that the baby was gone. Sometimes, she’d look up and find Devon’s eyes on her, and the urge to curl up in his arms and cry was so strong, she almost broke down.
At night, she always turned in first, determined to be asleep before he came to bed, but in the morning she woke with her body tangled with his. It was damned frustrating, and she was about to strangle the love of her life if he didn’t stop the subtle war he was waging. She wasn’t ready yet.
She made sure not to walk about unclothed, always covering up her body and wearing the simplest and most unflattering night clothes. Devon on the other hand would walk out of the shower with a towel around his waist, another around his shoulders, and nothing else. They both knew what he was doing, and he was winning. Foolishly, she had shown him that it got to her, seeing him like that, and he was using it to his advantage.
They had always been affectionate with each other, making love most every night. Over time they had expected the intensity to abate, but rather than cool it matured, until they could take their time with each other, take things slow and leisurely explore rather than race to the finish line.
The last couple weeks though, it had felt like her libido had flashed back to the past, and was showing no signs of a return to the status quo.
Her showers had been getting longer and longer as she took care of her body’s needs, like she was currently doing. Just a few minutes before, Devon had been in the shower, and she could picture how he had looked, the water sliding over his tanned body, down his firm stomach to his groin where the droplets caressed his hard cock.
The same hard cock she was wishing was buried inside of her, rather than her fingers.
And his ass, oh man his ass, with the drops of water rolling down it, covering the backs of his legs as it headed to his fee
t. Her hands itched to cup his ass as he surged into her, burying his cock deep and hard within her pussy.
Leaning back against the shower wall, she tried to assuage the burning need within her, but for the first night in several long and lonely months, an orgasm was denied her. Frustrated, she removed her hand from between her legs and slapped it against the tile. She could hear Devon moving around in the bedroom, opening drawers and generally making noise. Every night before, she had managed to get in her shower while he was still finishing up paperwork, but tonight he had beat her to it.
Her nightly shower was the only way she had been able to take the time to readjust to him without rushing into a return to their sexual lives. She needed the time.
Closing her eyes, she tried to work herself back to the fever pitch by rolling her nipples around and using the removable showerhead between her legs. She was almost to the point of release when a rush of cool air entered the room, followed by Devon’s voice. “Ash? You ok in there?”
Her eyes flared open and she dropped the showerhead as she hurried to turn her back to the room, hoping her husband hadn’t seen what she was doing. The showerhead clattered to the tile floor, bringing Devon into the room even as she responded, “I’m fine.”
“You sure? You’ve been in here a while, and I got worried.”
Glancing at him over her shoulder, Ashley saw the frank approval in his gaze as it trailed over her body. Almost flauntingly, she turned to face him. Her body flared to life, egged on by frustrated needs, her nipples hardening as he watched with a faint glint in his eyes that she knew so well.
As she watched, the towel he was still wearing around his waist fluttered to the floor, leaving him gloriously naked. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything as he moved into the bathroom, opened the shower door and stepped inside.
Willed to Love Page 2
