Unkissed (Swallow Me Whole Book 2)

by Angel Allen

  “Have you been here before?” I ask, sliding in across from him. The privacy of the booth isn’t lost on me.

  “A few times. The crew stopped here for lunch over the summer when we were working in the area.”

  “Do you like your job?”

  “Sure,” he says, taking off his jacket. “Better than being trapped inside all day long.”

  As I pick up a menu, I eye his arms and chest. He’s wearing a black thermal shirt that fits him to perfection. No doubt, his muscles got their definition on the job. I don’t know much about what he does for a living, but I’ve noticed how ripped he’s become since he started working for the Forest Service a couple of years ago. He smells like the outdoors most of the time, and it’s a scent I’ve come to associate with him. A scent I’ve always loved.

  The waitress stops at our table to take our order. She’s tall and curvy with a generous chest. Blond, just the way Ash likes them. She smiles at us both, but her expression turns appreciative when she gives him her full attention. I flick my eyes in his direction, expecting to find him returning her interest, but his ice blue eyes are on me.

  “Know what you want, Sadie?”

  Him. The realization hits me hard, stealing my breath. I’ve always been attracted to him, but this is different. This feeling is new and scary because I can see us hanging out like this all the time.

  Talking and laughing.

  Touching and feeling.

  Feeling so much.

  I lower my attention to my menu. “I’ll have pancakes.”

  “Same for me,” Ashton says.

  The waitress picks up our menus, and Ash and I are once again left alone. I’m having trouble meeting his eyes as these disconcerting feelings blaze through my blood. So much has changed between us in such a short amount of time, and I’m having trouble catching up.

  Having trouble making sense out of it. Before Friday night, I had a boyfriend I was ready to take the next step with, and now I’m sitting across from a guy I’ve known since grade school, practically drooling over him. I’m not sure how I got from there to here.

  I blame the tequila.

  “What about you?” he asks, bringing my gaze back to his face. “Do you like your job yet?” He knows I don’t, and the smirk on his face is proof. Ash has always enjoyed getting a rise out of me. When I was a girl, he did it by picking on me. When I was a teenager, he got under my skin by picking on my dates.

  “I still hate it as much as I did the last time we had this conversation.” I glower at him, not appreciating the reminder that I have to go back to work tomorrow and deal with Jake.

  “Then quit. Life’s too short to be miserable.”

  “It’s not that simple, Ash.”

  “Sure it is. You walk in and say ‘I quit.’”

  I scoff. “My father would have a heart attack.”

  Ashton clenches his jaw. “It’s time to grow up. You’re a college graduate living on your own.”

  “That’s right,” I say, my voice rising. “I am living on my own. Which means I have bills to pay, such as rent.” Although splitting housing costs with Mandy definitely cuts down on the bills. Truth is, I could afford my own place if I wanted to move. But maybe I’m comfortable with my living situation because there’s a part of me that does want to be able to quit at a moment’s notice. Plus, I wouldn’t leave Mandy in the lurch like that.

  “So find another job first. I hate watching you waste away in that place. It’s not you, Sadie. You shouldn’t settle for a job at your dad’s firm because he wants it. I don’t care how much pressure he puts on you.”

  “It’s job stability.” God, I sound like my parents. Maybe Ash is right.

  “It’s boring.”

  “What do you suggest I do? Plant trees like you?”

  His lips curve up in a smile. “If it makes you happy.”

  “I am happy.” I fold my arms across my chest.

  “Happy? No.” His blue gaze wanders over my face. “If you were happy, you wouldn’t be so defensive.”

  “I’m not fucking defensive.”

  “Hmm, you sure are fired up. I kind of like you this way.”

  “And what way is that?”

  “Passionate.”

  “It’s called irritation,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “Irritation is still passion.”

  “In my book, irritation is irritation.”

  A devious grin spreads across his ridiculously gorgeous face. “I don’t think so, Sawyer. Irritation is a form of anger, but you’re not the least bit angry. If anything, verbal sparring gets you hot between the legs.”

  Shit. I press my thighs together, thankful he can’t see them underneath the table. My flaming cheeks, on the other hand, are out of my control. They’re probably as noticeable as the wild state of my deep red hair.

  Ashton shoots a glance around our surroundings, then he leans forward. “Touch yourself.”

  “What?” I had to have heard him wrong.

  “Unbutton those sexy jeans and slide your fingers into your pussy.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “No crazier than you were the other night.”

  “I was drunk. What’s your excuse?”

  “Payback?”

  “I’m not doing this here.”

  He settles against the bench, looking laid back without a care in the world. “Don’t have the courage, huh?” He’s purposefully baiting me. I know it, but my hackles rise anyway. If this isn’t outside my comfort zone, I don’t know what is.

  But isn’t that the whole point? I meet his gaze head-on as I unbutton my jeans and slide down the zipper. His eyes darken and sizzle under hooded lids, and those too-kissable lips of his part the slightest bit. I dip my fingers underneath my panties, cheeks burning as I delve into the most private part of me in the middle of the day in a restaurant.

  This isn’t me, but it sure feels good to be whoever this girl is.

  Especially when Ashton is looking at me the way he is now, with determination in his eyes. With undiluted want.

  “Make yourself wet.” His voice is raspy with desire, and it shoots straight to my core.

  “What if I already am?”

  “How about I come over there and find out for myself?”

  “Don’t you dare!” I swing my gaze around the restaurant, horrified at the thought of someone catching on to what’s going on underneath the table. If he moves to my side of the booth that will only draw more attention.

  “Then touch yourself like you mean it.” He leans closer, his hands forming two fists on top of the table. “Run your fingers over your clit until you can’t keep quiet.”

  His gaze holds me captive as I stroke myself into a wet mess. Someone leaves the diner. Three more people enter. The waitress is zigzagging back and forth between the counter and the tables on the other side of the place. All the while, I try to keep my expression blank.

  It isn’t easy, with the weight of his stare on me, and the pressure of my fingers on my clit.

  “You planned this, didn’t you,” I accuse, and I know it’s true. I can see it in the smirk of his mouth. The satisfaction in his warm gaze. He picked this booth for the modicum of privacy it gives us from prying eyes.

  “Maybe I did.”

  My breathing grows choppy, and I chew on my lip to keep quiet. He shifts on the other side of the booth, and one hand disappears under the table.

  “Am I making you hard?” The words are a wispy string of need rolling off my tongue.

  “You have no fucking idea, Sadie. Feel like crawling underneath any tables today?”

  I bite back a smile, a bratty retort on my tongue, but the stroke of my fingers almost sends me over the edge. A moan strangles from my throat as my eyes drift shut.

  “God, you’re breathtaking like this,” he says, the hoarseness of his voice bringing my lids up. “Stop, Sadie. I don’t want you coming yet.”

  Part of me wants to argue with him, but the other part of me is g
rateful he’s not pushing it. Much longer, and I’m sure we’d get caught. As if on cue, the waitress heads in our direction, two plates in her hands, just as I’m pulling my hand from my pants. I cross my arms over my waist to hide my unbuttoned jeans.

  But there’s no need for me to worry. She only has eyes for Ash as she sets our plates down.

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  Ashton darts a glance in my direction, and I swear I can read his mind, can tell exactly what he wants.

  His cock in my mouth, pronto.

  “We’re good,” he mumbles.

  She leaves us be, and the silence that follows is maddening. Neither of us touch our food.

  “Sadie,” he says, breaking the stalemate. “I want a taste.”

  My eyes go wide, and he completely shatters the tension with his deep laugh. “Chill out, Sawyer. I’m not gonna crawl under the table.” He reaches out an arm. “Give me your hand.”

  I inch my trembling fingers toward his, and he grabs hold of my hand before closing his lips around my wet digits. I’m so drenched I could put out a fucking fire. With slow strokes of his tongue, he licks my fingers clean. And I can hardly believe I’m sitting in a diner with Ashton as he licks the taste of me off my own damn fingers.

  He lets go with a popping sound. “I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking famished.” With that, he picks up his fork and digs into his pancakes.

  Chapter Four

  Sadie

  It’s pouring buckets by the time we pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex. We rush up the stairs, racing each other as our laughter rings through the air. I unlock the front door, and goosebumps break out on my skin. I tell myself it’s from the rain, and that’s part of the reason, but I’m way too aware of the sudden quiet between Ash and me.

  A single moment can change everything. The sky from overcast to pouring. Laughter to dead silence. Easy-going fun to sexual tension. It was different when I was on the back of his bike. Of course, being so close to him affected me, but there were too many other stimulations to let this buzzing awareness take hold of my throat—cinching until I can hardly breathe.

  The smell of the rain, the wind on my cheeks, the roar of his bike in my ears. Now all that’s left is him and me in a quiet apartment. I swallow hard as I turn up the heat.

  “When’s Mandy supposed to be back?” he asks, peeling off his soaked jacket.

  “Around five. We have a few hours.” I look up in time to watch him pull his T-shirt over his head. Letting my eyes wander down his ripped abs, I stall on the V low on his abdomen. Too many seconds sneak by, and when I bring my gaze back to his face, his lips are curved into a knowing smile.

  “Like what you see?” he asks, unbuttoning his stonewashed jeans and lowering the zipper.

  I’d have to be dead not to.

  He slides all of that denim down his muscular thighs, exposing his hard cock.

  “What are you doing?” Why does my voice come out so high-pitched? I’ve seen his cock before. For fuck’s sake, I’ve had it in my mouth.

  “I’m undressing,” he says, kicking off his boots. He picks up his wet clothes and takes a step in my direction. “You need to do the same.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re going to take a shower to warm up while our clothes dry.”

  “Oh,” I mumble, my cheeks flaming from my ineptness. It’s like the sight of him annihilates my brain cells.

  “And you’re gonna suck my cock.”

  Liquid desire floods the space between my thighs, but I ignore it, instead shooting him a vexed look. “Wow, Ash. Try asking next time.”

  He closes the distance, and I hold my ground, even as he begins unbuttoning my flannel shirt. “Isn’t that the point of this, Sawyer? Your mouth needs more practice.” He pauses long enough to glance down at his erection. “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my cock is happy to oblige.”

  I smack his chest before retreating a step. “Jesus, you’re horrible,” I say, biting back a smile as I finish unhooking the buttons on my shirt. His dirty sense of humor is something I’ve secretly loved about him for years. I remove my clothes then clutch them to my chest, shivering. It’s chilly in the apartment, but that’s not the only reason I’m shaking like a leaf.

  He takes my bundle of soiled clothing and leads the way to the compact laundry room off the tiny kitchen, where he throws our things in the dryer for a cycle. The machine has barely started tumbling when he grabs me and throws me over his shoulder.

  “Ashton!” I’m about to pound on his back and demand he let me down, but the sight of his naked ass grabs my attention. God, it should be criminal to look as good as he does. His back is a canvas of hard muscle and smooth skin tapering down to a toned ass. How in the hell did I manage to be around him all of these years and not know what he was hiding underneath his clothes?

  Because I hadn’t wanted to know. Instead of following my heart, I followed my head and buried my attraction to him. Too many years as friends were at stake, and too many women came and went from his bed.

  Turning a blind eye to Ashton Levine was pure self-preservation.

  With each step he takes toward the private bath off my bedroom, I self-destruct a little more. The fear of how this will end is too much to bear, so I toss my apprehension into the now-empty grave in my soul where my feelings for him used to reside.

  I’m going to give myself permission to follow his lead. I’m going to give myself permission to fucking enjoy him.

  And somehow, I’ll find a way to keep from falling for him too hard.

  Our teeth are on the verge of chattering by the time he sets me on my feet in the shower stall. He switches on the water, turning the knob to hot, and pulls me under the spray with him.

  “Turn around,” he says, voice rough with desire. I pivot, facing the wall, and he slides his palms down my arms. Taking my wrists in his hands, he lifts my arms and makes me flatten my palms against the tile.

  “Ash?” I can’t hide the nervous tremor in my voice—it matches the flutters of excitement going off low in my belly.

  “Shhh, just follow my lead.” He speaks the words in a low tone, his breath warming my neck. Slowly, he edges my feet apart with his foot.

  My hands are on the tile.

  My feet are planted on the floor shoulder-width apart.

  And I’ve never felt so vulnerable. Part of me likes this feeling too much.

  “Don’t move your hands.”

  A shiver breaks out on my skin, despite the heat from the water, and all I can manage is a muted nod. He shifts behind me, then his fingers are trailing down my spine, sparking zaps of awareness on my skin.

  Is that his lips on the small of my back? The undeniable heat of his tongue spreads low on my spine, and my breath hitches.

  He’s making me light-headed. Dizzy with longing. I bite my lip to keep quiet because I’m about to beg him to touch me. Really touch me. The space between my legs is throbbing for his hands and mouth.

  He drags his palms over my ass cheeks before bringing a hand down with a loud smack. I can’t hold back a small cry of surprise.

  “I like a red ass, Sadie. Can you handle it?”

  Can I? I’m not sure, but I’m aching between my legs too much to care. “Uh-huh,” I mumble.

  “That’s not an answer.” He lets loose another smack. “Answer me.”

  “Yes!”

  Smack!

  The blow comes with more force than the last two, and with a small whimper, I shoot to my toes.

  He snakes an arm around my waist and gently pulls me into his body, bending me until I’m arching my spine. Until my ass is raised for better access.

  “Perfect,” he rasps out. “You’ve got the finest ass. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  “No.” Shit, no one’s ever touched me like this either. Looked at me like this. And no one has ever wanted to spank me before. The more time I spend with Ash, the more we tumble down the rabbit hole of whatever this i
s.

  Who knew he was hiding this side of him all these years behind that flirty grin?

  He spanks me again, and I jump once more with a small gasp. Jesus, I’m surprised I like it so much. His palm comes down over and over, alternating between my left and right ass cheeks.

  Fuck, it’s starting to sting, and I can’t help but whimper and squirm. The urge to press my thighs together is overwhelming. The longer I stand like this, the more likely my arousal will drip down my legs.

  I sense him crouching behind me, his hot breath fanning over my left ass cheek. He parts his mouth over my flesh and sinks his teeth in.

  “Ash.” His name is little more than a throaty cry, and I clench my jaw to keep from moaning again. His nibble doesn’t hurt. If anything, the location of his mouth is making me wetter. Needier. God, I’m desperate for him to touch me.

  He runs his nose down my inner thigh. So close, but so far away. It’s pure torture.

  “I’m gonna touch you,” he says, planting soft kisses on my skin as he grazes my other thigh with his fingers. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

  I’ve never wanted it more. But getting my vocal cords to work is proving to be impossible. I arch into his touch, hoping he’ll get the message.

  “No, Sadie. I want you to say the words. If you want my fingers in your pussy, you’re gonna have to tell me.”

  “Jesus, Ash. You’re driving me insane.”

  “I can drive you insane for hours, and I will if you don’t say the words.”

  My pride lets an endless amount of seconds tick by, but eventually, I cave to the need clawing inside me. “Touch me,” I choke out.

  He slips his fingers inside me, and his touch is different from last night, when he shoved them into my pussy while spanking me. Now, his movements are careful. Teasing. He’s taking his time, extracting low moaning cries from my throat.