Ashes to Ashes Page 6

  Dear god, I was shaking. I wanted so badly to feel his teeth on my skin, to have that wicked, knowing mouth sink into my flesh and brand me as his. “Do it, please.”

  “I shouldn’t,” he whispered against my neck, the tone of his voice suggesting he was struggling with his attraction as much as I was. “It’s not right.”

  To fuck with what’s right, I thought. I wanted him and I hadn’t wanted anyone in a long, long time. I wanted this. Only him.

  “Who’s going to tell? Besides, aren’t I paying your salary?”

  He chuckled and released my wrists. I almost wept at the loss of contact until I felt his strong arms wrap around my waist and pull me back into him. There was no mistaking the thick, hard erection pressing against my bottom. “You calling me your whore?”

  I stiffened at his use of that word. Hearing him say “whore”—the man who I’d fucked and then walked away from, the man who’s name I’d only learned as he’d walked out the door with the smell of our sex still lingering in the air—broke something loose inside of me. I squirmed and tried to break free of his hold.

  “Oh shit,” he muttered, immediately loosening his grip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  “I know,” I told him once I’d shimmied away.

  I knew he hadn’t been calling me a whore, but I couldn’t control my reaction. Just like I couldn’t control the way my heart sped up when he’d shown me he understood why such an innocuous statement triggered me. I didn’t want to talk about any of it though, so I tried to put him off. “It’s fine. I know what you meant.”

  “Do you?” he asked, his steady gaze locked on mine until I was forced to glance away.

  “Like I said, it’s fine.”

  He took a tentative step toward me, as if he wanted to touch me again but didn’t dare. “I don’t believe you.”

  “That’s the beauty of our situation. You don’t have to believe me. You just have to protect me,” I said, my voice taking on a snide quality I hated. I only got like this when I felt cornered. It was something I’d tried working on in therapy, but some habits were far too ingrained in a person to be remedied after only a few months.

  “You’re right,” he said, taking a step back. Ash’s voice turned stiff and formal. “My apologies. I won’t let it happen again.” Then he adjusted the fall of his coat and flicked his cuffs. “I’ll be outside. Holler when you’re ready and I’ll send someone up to get your bags.

  * * *

  I slipped into the darkened interior of the Lincoln Navigator, its windows somehow even darker than the one that had brought me to McClintock Security’s offices in the first place. In the time between he’d left the apartment upstairs and I’d descended, I resigned myself to Ash’s presence in my life. I’d also resigned myself to the fact that it wasn’t his fault we had a history. It had taken two of us to fuck mindlessly in that ugly hotel room, and I needed to own the role I’d played in what had come afterward. I also needed to own how I felt about him now.

  The truth was, I was attracted to Ash. Ridiculously so. That was the easy admission. What wasn’t so easy to admit was that I felt more than attraction. At the time, something about the way he’d moved inside of me in the cold dark of night, and then the way he’d looked at me the next morning, made me feel like he’d seen the real me. And that feeling had grown stronger since he’d walked back into my life again.

  That night, the trappings of my fame and fortune had been stripped away so all that was left was Norma Rae Griffin, the white trash redneck who’d made it out of Hicksville, USA, through talent and hard work. He hadn’t known my name; he’d only known me as the woman who’d lain in his arms and welcomed him into her body, seeking a few hours of solace from a stranger she’d never see again.

  Except maybe that wasn’t all I’d been.

  In the days since we’d been thrown together again, there was something about the way we seemed tethered to one another. Even as we fought it, and I’d begun to wonder if he didn’t feel something more as well. Almost as if I’d also given him a measure of comfort, as if during that night he’d been running from his own demons, and I’d offered a few hours of numbness—a moment to forget who he was, where he’d been, and instead focus on the warmth and succor that could be found in someone who didn’t know the baggage you carried every moment of your life.

  When the car door shut, I chanced a quick glance at Ash out the corner of my eye. His arms were crossed over his expansive chest and his jaw was clenched.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “About earlier.” He huffed out a noise that said he wasn’t buying what I was selling. “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s … well, let’s just say it’s a defense mechanism I’m not proud of. When I feel cornered, I lash out. I’m working on it, but …” I shrugged my shoulders.

  Ash palmed the seat leather and turned to face me. “Do you know why I took this job?”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

  “I’m not one of McClintock’s regulars. I don’t babysit pretty starlets.” His eyes flashed with ire. “You have a truck full of diamonds being transported across hostile territory, I’m your man. Or,” he growled leaning forward, an intimidation tactic I recognized from my conflict resolution class, “say you’re a Russian oligarch who’s on Putin’s shit list, you call me in to get you the fuck out of dodge and to safety. Do you get what I’m saying?”

  I did. Or at least I thought so. I was nothing more to him than a pain in the ass. All those notions I’d had about how we might be kindred spirits vanished in an instant. I licked my suddenly parched lips, nodded my head, and swallowed down the lump of embarrassment in my throat.

  “But I’m also the only goddamn person McClintock has on the roster who knows fuck all about music and can run a goddamn soundboard, so we’re stuck with each other until they catch whoever’s after you.”

  I would have asked more about the types of jobs he typically took on, but I got the impression they weren’t open for discussion. That was fine, now that he’d made it perfectly clear what I was to him, I didn’t need to know anything more about him. All I needed to confirm now was he could do the job I was paying him to do—both of them.

  “How is it you know so much about music?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation into neutral territory.

  “I play the guitar.”

  “And you’ve been in a studio before?”

  His eyes raked over me with disdain. “This ain’t my first rodeo, baby.” He leaned back in his seat and stared out the window as we drove down the freeway.

  I’d never been particularly good at keeping my feelings bottled up inside—that’s probably what made me a good songwriter—but I’d always been hyper aware of being polite because of that flaw. I didn’t know what was going on in Ash’s brain, but I wasn’t going to sit back and take his abuse. I’d done enough of that with Ford—smiling and nodding while he put me down—and look where that had gotten me. At least Ford had been my husband; keeping the peace had been worthwhile.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” I seethed.

  “Do you really want to know, or are you hoping I’ll say ‘nothing, I’m fine.’”

  “No, I really, genuinely want to know why you’re being such a dick,” I responded as he continued staring out the window, refusing to meet my angry glare.

  “Look Rae. You’re paying me to keep you safe—and I’m willing to put my life on the line because I’m a good little soldier and that’s my job—and I’ll help you with your damn album, but I think it’s best if we kept it to that. We don’t need to talk about our feelings or anything else, so if you don’t mind, I’m just going to sit here and keep quiet for the rest of our journey.”

  “You’re the one who keeps coming on to me, who keeps touching me and trying to get into my pants.”

  Inwardly I cheered when his head whipped around and angry eyes clapped on mine. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me,” I volleyed back. Pointing at him, I adde
d, “This is on you.”

  Angrily, he undid his seatbelt and slid across the leather separating us. “I know you’ve got some shit going on, and you’re dealing with a whole lot on your plate at the moment. But nothing I’ve heard you say this past week has pointed to a woman who is stupid or manipulative, so I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt right now.” His eyes raked over my face and he licked his lips. “I hate to break it to you, Rae, but every time you look my way, I catch you undressing me. Every time we talk, your eyes rove over me appreciatively. You watch my mouth and your pupils dilate, thinking about—remembering—what these lips can do. You’ve been eye fucking me for a week and a man can only take so much.”

  “Wh … how … is …” I sputtered. I had some pretty major shortcomings, but the inability to express myself wasn’t one of them. Sure, there were times in my past I’d decided not to say what was on my mind, but that hadn’t meant the words hadn’t been there—just that I’d chosen not to use them. But with Ash’s snide statement ringing in my ears, I was actually speechless. The only other time that had happened was when Ford had announced on TV that we were separating and I hadn’t known.

  I blinked long and slow, and when I opened my eyes, I was finally able to give Ash a piece of my mind. A very loud, very vulgar piece of it. “You motherfucking cocksucking piece of shit! Who the fuck do you think you are?” I shoved at him with my palms and then punched his solid chest with balled fists. “You sexist piece of trash!” I wailed as I took out my disgust on his rock-hard body. “Just because a woman looks at you appreciatively does not mean she wants you to lay your grubby fucking hands on her! Just because I’m attracted to you doesn’t give you license to accost me every damn time we’re in the same goddamn room. Just because I fucked you before doesn’t mean I’m going to spread my legs and let you slide that magnificent fucking cock into my needy, aching cunt. It doesn’t mean I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember my name and I can’t stop screaming yours!”

  By the time I finished my tirade, my furious hollering had morphed into a yearning entreaty, and before I knew what I was doing, I threw my arms around Ash’s neck, twisted my hands in his hair, and pulled his face to mine.

  And then, just before our lips crashed together, he chuckled. “That’s where you’re wrong, babycakes. That’s exactly what it means.”

  Chapter Eight

  Rae

  The seatbelt dug into my shoulder, as I pulled away from Ash’s questing mouth and searched for the latch that would allow me to climb over him to ease the unwavering ache in my core. I pressed the button and when nothing happened, I pressed harder … and then harder again. Why wouldn’t the goddamn thing just work already? “Motherfucking piece of American engineering! Let go of me!”

  I was well on my way to ripping the metal clasp out of that piece of black plastic when Ash started laughing.

  “Shut up, this isn’t funny. I haven’t had sex in almost two years!” I cried, my desperation making me admit things I wasn’t proud of. Normally, I would have been embarrassed, but I had needs that needed seeing to, and I didn’t care if Ash knew he was the first man I’d wanted to fuck since getting sober.

  Reaching over, he pressed down on the buckle—the one next to the one I’d been trying to wrestle into submission. “As much as I love it that you’re willing to tear apart this fine piece of American engineering in an effort to have my cock inside of you, maybe you should go a bit easy on the destruction. That’s my job.” When the buckle clicked and the nylon went slack, Ash placed an open-mouthed kiss against my neck and hauled me into his lap. “Now, what was that you were saying about your needy, aching cunt?” His teeth sank into my flesh.

  I moaned at feel of his mouth clamped tight around my skin, and the small shockwaves that traveled straight to my pussy at his small show of dominance. If something that simple caused a four-point-oh on my sexual Richter Scale, I couldn’t imagine how hard my world would rock and roll once Ash finally sank his monster cock into me.

  “I need you,” I groaned against his lips as I took his mouth in another fiery kiss.

  How have I gone so long without this? I asked myself as he nipped at my bottom lip. No wonder I’d been such a snarky bitch lately.

  Wanting more of him, I hiked up my skirt and straddled his thick, muscular thighs. I hadn’t remembered how wide and solid he felt beneath me. What I did suddenly recall was Ash looming over me, my wrists clasped above my head, while his cock hit my g-spot and I thrashed beneath him, chasing my orgasm.

  “Oh my god,” I breathed out, rolling my hips over his straining erection. I had loved Ford to distraction, but I’d never needed him as badly as I needed Ash at this very moment. “Please, fuck me,” I begged, reaching between us to try and undo his belt.

  Ash locked my fingers against his belt. “No, Rae. Not here.”

  “But you promised,” I whined and dropped my head to his shoulder.

  Ash laughed. “No, I don’t believe I did.”

  I sat up and swatted as his shoulder. “You did too!” I cried like a petulant child. “You said, and I quote, ‘Now what was that about an aching cunt?’”

  “Oh baby,” he chuckled, capturing my mouth in a quick kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes danced with mirth. “Listen to the words you just used. I never said a thing about giving you my cock.”

  “But—” I wailed as I tried to cup his massive erection in my tiny hand “—I want it.”

  “Sorry my angry little Veruca Salt.”

  I pulled back in surprise. “What did you just call me?”

  “Veruca Salt.”

  My mouth split into a wide, happy grin. “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory—the original one with Gene Wilder, not that freaky remake with Johnny Depp—is my absolute favorite movie of all time.”

  “And you’re the sweetest fucking candy I’ve ever tasted,” he answered as he licked his way up my throat and over my pounding pulse, “but I’m not going to fuck you. We have plenty of time for that later.”

  I collapsed against his chest, defeated. “God damn you Ash. You fucking tease. Why’d you have to get me all worked up only to leave me hanging? Didn’t you hear me when I said I hadn’t had sex in two years?”

  “Oh, I heard you babycakes,” he growled, pushing me away from his sculpted pecs so he could look me in the eye. After a brief, teasing moment, his mouth hitched up to the side and a confident smirk stretched his lips. “I said we weren’t going to fuck. I never said anything about not taking care of you.”

  And just like that his hand snaked up my bare leg to find my panties soaked with desire. “So fucking wet,” he murmured, petting my pussy. After a few more strokes where I silently begged for more with thrusting hips, he ripped the material from me, easily shredding the silk, and pushed one long finger inside of me.

  “Holy fuck,” I moaned as I rode out the wave of ecstasy that followed. “More,” I begged, already on the verge of orgasm, as I rolled against his palm.

  He snickered and slipped his finger from my core.

  “No!” I cried. “Put it back.”

  Instead of giving me what I begged for, he went back to petting me. Teasing me. As if we had all the time in the world; as if I wasn’t a writhing mass of need who might combust any second if he didn’t make me come.

  “I’m not used to being told what to do,” he pronounced, his words a perfect melody to the movement of his hand. “I know you remember that night, Rae. I can see it in your eyes every time you look at me.”

  As the beginnings of a few salty tears stung my eyes, I bit my lip to keep myself from crying. “Only snippets,” I admitted on a pained whisper. “Not this,” I added with a sob as I tried to ride his trouser-clad erection. If he didn’t make me come, and soon, I was seriously considering jumping off his lap and doing it myself. I didn’t know how much more of his teasing I could take.

  With his other hand, he gripped my hip and held me steady so I couldn’t rock myself to completion. “I didn’
t give you permission to come,” he growled and nipped at my shoulder, the bite a punctuation mark to his statement. “Such a bad little girl. I think you might want to be punished.”

  Incoherent with longing, I shook my head frantically and then my tears began to fall. “You’re punishing me now.”

  “Oh sweetheart,” he said, his voice like honey. “This isn’t punishment, this is anticipation.”

  “I’m dying, Ash!” I cried. “Why are you torturing me?”

  “How bad do you want me?”

  “Bad,” I croaked. “So fucking bad.”

  I tried to ride him again but his grip on my hip was firm. “Tell me what you remember about that night or I won’t let you come.”

  “You motherfucking fiend!” I cried, slamming my palms against his broad chest. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  Ash’s arms came around me like a vice, and he held me tight to his chest. “I promise you Rae, if you do things my way, you will come like you’ve never come before.”

  “I don’t need to come like I’ve never come before,” I argued. “I just need to fucking come.” I wiggled against him, creating enough space to twist my wrist and snake my hand down to against my belly. I’d almost reached my weeping cunt when he grabbed ahold of my wrist and raised both my hands between us.

  “Oh no you don’t,” he growled. “I thought I made myself clear: you come when I say you come. And for that little stunt, I’m going to make you wait longer.”

  “Fuck you,” I whispered, all the fight going out of me. “I hate you.”

  “You don’t hate me,” he responded, shaking his head. “You adore me.”

  “I wish I’d never met you.”

  He maneuvered my hands around my back, and holding both wrists in one of his hands, he said, “That’s not true. You wish you’d met me sooner.” His words were spoken with the confidence of a man who had a woman at his mercy.