First, he calls me prude and now he’s letting some blonde bimbo hang all over him? This has felt like the worst day of my life, and it just won’t fucking end. I‘m so done!
“Can you get your fake tits out of my boyfriend’s face?” I ask the blonde as I bump her out of the way to grab my clutch. “I’m leaving,” I announce to the guys, giving them as nasty a look as I can.
They share an uncertain glance, clearly having no idea what to do. I don’t wait for a response and instead head outside to hail a cab. I don’t really give a shit how much the fare will be to get home. I just really need to get going. I want this night to be over. Not that it matters now, though. In one night with one comment and one slut, I’ve already been set back almost two months. It feels as though all the progress I’ve made with Tanner has been wiped away in an instant.
I hear Tanner’s voice cut through the crowd. “Ashley, wait up.”
Oddly, my body doesn’t respond with its usual softening upon hearing him. Now the sound only fuels the angry fire burning inside me.
“What?” I snap. “Want to insult me some more tonight? Haven’t had enough yet?” I know I’m being unfair, but tough shit. My whole life seems to be un-fucking-fair, so why not share the wealth of bad luck I’ve accumulated?
“No,” he answers cautiously. “I just want to make sure that you get home safely. I’ll drive you.”
“I don’t need you to get home.”
“No, you don’t, but too bad.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” I know I sound like an immature adolescent, but who the hell does Tanner think he is?
“I just did, now get your fired-up ass in the car. We’re going to deal with this. Enough with the attitude. I said I was sorry, and I was totally sincere, but it seems like you need something more than that.”
He can go fuck himself.
“I don’t give a shit what you think I need. I’m not getting in that car with you,” I say, lifting my arm to hail a cab.
“We’ve been here and done this before, Ashley. You didn’t win then either.” He pulls my arm down and takes me by the hand, urging me toward where his Range Rover is parked around the corner.
Chapter 23
TANNER
So much for a relaxing weekend off with my girlfriend. If one more thing goes wrong, I’ll have hit the trifecta of shittiness. Of course, Ashley would come back from the bathroom just as that girl was asking for an autograph. Yes, she was flirting, but I wasn’t biting. It’s not as though I could have said no to an autograph request. I tried to make it as non-suggestive as possible, but the woman had a huge rack and was shamelessly displaying it for me. She was coming on strong, but what was I supposed to do? She’d made a comment about how I looked like I could use some company, to which I’d replied that I had great company in my girlfriend who was just using the restroom. Of course, Ashley hadn’t heard that. She’d just taken the scene at face value and gotten pissed off. I can’t say I blame her, though. I would have been just as pissed if the situation were reversed
I don’t want to argue the entire hour-long ride back to my house, but after nearly a half hour of silence, I can’t take it anymore and decide to speak up. Ashley beats me to the punch, though.
“You missed the exit to my house,” she snaps.
“We’re not going to your place.”
“I don’t want to go to your house.”
“Too bad,” I reply.
“You can’t force me to come home with you, asshole.” Her voice is full of anger.
“I know you’re pissed, but you could’ve at least given me the chance to explain. And yes, you are coming home with me. We have things to resolve.” Even though she has a right to be pissed about my first slip-up, I should have been given the benefit of the doubt with that chick.
“I feel as though I’m having déjà vu. I think that woman could have been the twin of the slut I found Jason fucking in my bed. You know, the same day he told me I was a prude and had brought it on myself.”
Fuck, I think there must be pure venom in her veins right now. There’s no way for this to get any worse. I’m back in the same box as the douchebag ex again.
“I’m sorry for what he did to you, Ashley, but I don’t think you’re being fair. I didn’t do anything today to intentionally hurt you. She wanted an autograph. It wasn’t an ideal situation. I get that, but was I supposed to say, ‘No, I won’t autograph your jersey’?” I reason.
“How about telling her that your girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate her shoving her tits in your face?”
“I made sure to mention I was there with my girlfriend. I know you’re determined to make me the bad guy here, but at least give me a little fucking credit.” Christ, this isn’t going to be easy to fix. I have zero experience in the damaged girlfriend department, and Ashley’s about halfway to Crazy Town right now.
“Hmpf…” She huffs but doesn’t say anything else.
“What does that mean?” I ask, no longer in the mood for her bullshit.
“It means you’re still an asshole.” She is really pushing my buttons.
“I’ve had just about enough of your shit tonight.”
“Well, you should have taken me home then,” she says, smirking.
I’m about to strangle this woman. I inhale deeply, keeping my mouth shut, determined to make my point when we get home.
I barely have the car pulled into the garage and in park before she’s out the door, slamming it behind her, and heading up the stairs that lead inside to the kitchen.
After I unlock the door, she tries to push past me to get inside, but I grab hold of her wrist, effectively stopping her.
“No, no, baby. You aren’t going anywhere.”
“Tanner, don’t you think I’ve had enough for one day?” she asks, her body slumping as though her adrenaline is finally running out.
“Baby, you’re upset, but I think you’re being a little unreasonable because this whole thing hits a sore spot for you.” My arms encircle her. I hope that she just needs to be reminded of how much I actually crave her and her alone.
“No, I’m upset because the three of you sat there and made fun of me and my boyfriend called me prude for not owning any butt plugs. Then, knowing I was already upset, he still let some bar slut serve her tits up to him on a silver platter using an autograph as an excuse. And finally, said boyfriend forced me to come home with him, as though I would sleep with him when all I want to do is curl up alone at home in my own bed,” she spits out.
I guess I had been wrong about her adrenaline fading. Her body is tense and poised for battle, ramrod straight and unmoving. Her teeth are clenched together so hard I’m almost afraid she’s going to crack a molar.
“My bed is also your bed, and you will be sleeping with me, baby,” I say, setting her straight. I won’t let her pull away from me.
“No, I won’t. I wouldn’t want my prudishness to infect you.” Her voice is thick with sarcasm.
I feel as though I’m at the end of my rope with her, and I can think of only one way to fix this mess.
Pulling her toward me, I slam my lips onto hers. I feel the initial resistance in her body, but she doesn’t push me away. I feel the battle waging inside her as she fights against herself, wanting to fight against me. Her mind doesn’t want to give in, but her body does. Knowing that even though she is angry, her body can’t deny me makes me instantly hard. I push myself against her so she can feel my erection.
“Feel that baby? Feel how hard you make me? Does that feel like a cock that thinks you’re a prude?” I ask between kisses.
“I never said your dick thought I was prude, just the dick it’s attached to.” She sneers.
Fucking Christ, this woman is downright infuriating.
“Enough, Ashley,” I say, pulling her head back by her hair, forcing her to look at me. “You have called me so many names in the last hour I’ve lost count. I made one stupid joke with no intention of insulting you, but you have pur
posely and repeatedly tried to hurt me since then. That chick at the bar was nothing, and you know it.” I grab the hem of her shirt and pull it off over her head hastily, but don’t remove it completely. I leave it at her wrists and loop the fabric around them, binding her hands together.
I push her through the kitchen as I kiss her until her ass bumps against the kitchen table. Holding her hands up above her head, I give her an insistent nudge to get her to lie back on the table, and she does. With my free hand, I unbutton her jeans. I let go of her hands to pull the jeans down and off her legs. She lies on the table, feet still on the floor, in nothing but her bra and thong. My cock swells even more at the sight of her.
But I see fear in her eyes, and it hurts knowing that she now doubts my feelings for her.
“I don’t like the doubt I see in your eyes, Ashley. I promise that, after tonight, you’ll have no doubt how sexy and free I find you. I could see the inner vixen hiding inside you even before you knew it was there,” I tell her, running my finger up and down her torso.
Her skins breaks out in goose bumps, but her face remains defiant.
I slide her thong down her legs. When I reach her ankles, I wrap my fingers around them and use them as leverage to push her farther up onto the table.
“What are you—?” she tries to ask, but I’m no longer in the mood to hear anything come out of her mouth unless she’s moaning my name in ecstasy.
“Shut your beautiful mouth, Ashley. I’m really tired of hearing all the bullshit that’s been coming out of it tonight. So unless I’m hurting you and you want me to stop, shut the fuck up.” I haven’t been this forceful with her before, but it’s for her own good.
She snaps her mouth shut and stares up at me with wide eyes, nodding slightly.
I pull my shirt over my head and let it drop to the floor before positioning myself between her legs. Wetting one finger, I trail it up and down her pussy. She’s more turned on than she lets on. I see her wetness glistening in the low light.
I waste no time going to work on her. I run my nose along the seam of her folds, inhaling the scent of her arousal. I lick her up and down before deciding that I need my point to hit home with her. She needs to remember this night the next time she doubts herself or me. I grab her ankles and pull her back to the edge of the table. Her eyes are still wide with a mix of trepidation and lust. I have babied her in the bedroom up till now, afraid to push her too far, but now seems like the best time to push her limits.
“Stand up,” I tell her, my voice stern.
She hesitates, and it pisses me off.
“Now,” I demand.
She scrambles off the table and stands as close to it as possible. I read the cocktail of emotions on her face. It’s as though she isn’t sure how she should feel. I see a slight tinge of fear there, and I don’t like it. We’ll have to expel that one right now.
“Come here,” I order.
She moves toward me, slowly closing the space between us. As soon as she’s within reach, I grab her hair once more and turn her face toward mine.
“Have I ever hurt you before, Ashley?” I ask
“No.”
“Then tell me why I see fear in your eyes?”
“I don’t know. You seem angry,” she answers.
“I am angry, Ashley. I don’t like that after one stupid joke you’ve retreated back inside yourself. I see the doubt in your eyes right next to the fear, and it pisses me the fuck off.”
“Sorry,” she mumbles.
“You will be.”
I spin her around and push her face down onto the table. Then I nudge her legs apart with my foot. “Spread them.”
She obeys immediately.
“Good girl.” I rub her ass cheek, waiting for her to relax against the table. After a minute or so, she finally does, and that’s when I strike her. The sound of the slap reverberates off the walls.
“Oww,” she yelps.
“That’s for doubting yourself, Ashley. Don’t ever doubt yourself.” I rub my hand gently over the spot I’ve just slapped, caressing it. The minute she relaxes into my palm, I strike her again in a new spot.
“Fuck.”
“That was for doubting me. Don’t ever doubt me, and don’t ever compare me to that shithead of an ex of yours. I never want to be placed in the same box as him again,” I tell her, stroking her ass some more.
She doesn’t relax this time, having caught on to this little game of mine.
I trail my hand toward her pussy. I’m more than confident she’s turned on by this, but I need to make sure. I don’t want to ever push her to a place where she doesn’t enjoy herself.
“Does this turn you on, baby? Am I going to find this beautiful pussy of yours wet?”
“I don’t know… Yes?” she replies, questioning rather than answering.
I move my hand more quickly, needing a real answer before I say anything else. Wet. Not dripping wet, but wet enough to tell me that if she lets go a little she’ll get there.
“You’re pretty wet. Not as wet as I would like you to be. Why is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Am I hurting you?” I ask. If I am, this whole thing could really go south.
“Not really,” she says, sounding only slightly steadier.
“Not really? So basically you’re stuck in your head. Would a prude woman allow me to stand here, bend her over my kitchen table, spread her, and spank her?” I press.
“N-no.”
“No, Ashley, she wouldn’t. She would be running for the hills, screaming bloody murder. But not you, right?”
“No,” she responds, her tone sounding less guarded. I can almost hear her inner walls crumbling.
“No is right. Because you are not prude. Get the fuck out of your head and let go.” I bring my hand back down hard on her ass.
She screams out, not in pain but in what seems to me like relief. I push two of my fingers between her pussy lips and finally find what I’d been hoping for: undeniable wetness. I take the same two fingers and plunge them inside her. I use my other hand to press her into the table as I increase my pace. Her warmth grips my fingers, making my cock swell and press against my zipper.
“Such a greedy little pussy you have here.”
I remove my hand form her back to unbutton my jeans and unzip them. They haven’t even hit the floor before I’ve removed my fingers from Ashley’s pussy and impaled her on my cock, seating myself as far inside her as I can get.
“Ahh!” she cries out, and I still for the moment to allow her to acclimate.
I glide my right hand up her back to grab a chunk of her hair and bury my fingers in it. I pull her head back and force her to turn to look at me over her shoulder.
“You will never doubt what we have here again. Should I make another mistake that happens to make your head go somewhere dark, you will tell me. Then I will help you immediately return to the present and get the fuck over it. What we do together is absolute perfection, and I won’t have you thinking otherwise. Understand?”
“Yes,” she replies.
“Good.” I dig my fingers into the place on her hips I love so much and drive my point home. I thrust into her over and over, losing myself between the perfection of her pussy and the symphony of her mews. “Absolute perfection… Play with your clit, baby,” I order, knowing that she won’t get off on this alone—not yet at least. I haven’t taken her this roughly before, and even though her moaning tells me she’s loving it, I know she needs that little extra push. A bit of a caressing touch.
“God, Tanner. Fuck.”
“Your pussy is heaven on earth, Ashley. A fucking paradise, baby.”
“Ah, Tanner, so close,” she says.
I wet my finger with my spit before finding her puckered hole and slowly gliding my finger inside.
“Ah, yes, yes, please… God. Oh God! Oh God…” she screams as her orgasm takes over, causing her to clench down and squeeze the hell out of my cock.
I can’t
stave off my orgasm any longer, and my mind fades to black.
“Ffffuuuccckkk!” I growl as I pound into her harder, milking the rest of my orgasm for all it’s worth. My senses are scattered. My chest heaves as though I’ve just run the city marathon, and there’s a buzzing in my ears. As I regain control of my senses, I hear Ashley crying. Oh fuck! I hope I didn’t hurt her. God, no, anything but that. “Baby, are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I swear,” I apologize, unsheathing myself, and pick her up. I cradle her in my arms as she sobs, and I’d swear I can hear my heart cracking. “Baby, please tell me what’s wrong? Where did I hurt you?” I ask, trying to think of what I did that could’ve hurt her. Maybe I pushed my finger into her ass a little too hard? We haven’t done much anal play. I know I pounded her pretty hard, but I’ve taken her roughly before, maybe not as hard as that, but still…
“I’m sorry,” she says in between sobs.
She’s sorry? “For what, baby? Please tell me if I hurt you.”
“No, no, you didn’t hurt me.”
“Then what? What is it, baby?” I ask, needing some clarity.
“I’m sorry I was such a bitch. I’m sorry I doubted you. You were right.”
“But why are you crying?”
“I don’t know. My head is all over the place,” she explains, her head still buried in the crook of my neck.
“Stop hiding and talk to me. What going on in your head?”
“That was so… intense.”
“And?” I push, sensing she has more to say.
“And I liked it. I loved it. What… what does that say about me?”
Now I get it. She’s confused by her body’s reaction to being manhandled. Her mind is trying to convince her that it’s wrong to enjoy something she views as debasing.
“It says that you’re finally letting yourself go and giving in to what you’ve always needed but been afraid to experience.”
“Or it says I’m a dirty whore,” she reasons, sobbing again.
Inhibitions Page 20
