Until Ashlyn

  “I… I ha-have nev… never… see-seen… m-my da… dad so mad,” I cry, and his hand on my back rubs in soothing circles.

  “He’ll come around.” He will, but when? I’ve never seen my dad look at me the way he did just now, and I hate the idea of him being mad at me, so mad that he walked away. And let’s not even get into my mom’s reaction. She didn’t say anything, but I know she’s hurt and I hate that. “Everything will be okay, but please stop crying. I don’t like it.”

  “You can’t make me stop crying!” I sob, and his mouth drops to my ear, placing a kiss there.

  “I know,” he mutters, sounding annoyed by that fact. I don’t know how long we sit there, me in his lap, curled around him, his hands rubbing gently over my back, but my tears eventually dry up and I melt into him, feeling the day start to set in and my eyes and body begin to get heavy. “Can I ask why you were moving me out?” he questions, and my body stiffens. I try to move off him, but his arms hold me tighter, keeping me in place. “Talk to me.”

  “I wasn’t moving you out.”

  “You packed my shit.”

  “And mine. I was moving us out,” I admit quietly, and his body goes rock-solid.

  “Pardon?”

  “I know you love your house, and I know you don’t really want to sell it, so I asked Michelle to tell me how much it was so I could buy it from you, but I don’t have enough for the down payment,” I complain, and his body tenses further.

  “You were going to buy my house?” he asks after a moment, and it’s my turn to tense. Pulling my face away from his chest with his hand on my jaw, his eyes search mine. “You were going to buy my house?” he repeats softly, and my teeth go to the inside of my cheek as I shrug. “You hate my house.”

  “I like the library and the kitchen, I also like your bedroom,” I defend quietly, feeling guilty.

  “Baby.” His eyes move past me as his head shakes from side to side. “I’m selling because I want you to be happy.”

  “I want the same for you.” I’ve never had to consider anyone else’s feelings before, but I do want him to be happy. And I really don’t want him to resent me for making him give up something that means so much to him, something that represents a part of his childhood; a childhood that was scarred by the loss of his parents.

  “We’re not moving into my house,” he states after a moment, and I feel my face scrunch up in annoyance.

  “Yes we are.”

  “We’re not.”

  “You are so damn annoying.” I push away from him, and since he’s not prepared for my sudden shift I almost fall onto my ass, but thankfully he’s strong and quick, so he catches me before I do damage to myself.

  “Be careful.”

  He steadies me once I’m on my feet, and I lean closer to him, and shout, “Stop telling me what to do!”

  “Fuck me, now you’re mad that I won’t let you move into a house you hate?”

  “No, that’s stupid,” I hiss, even though it is partly true. “I’m mad, because I’m trying to do something to show you that I love you, and you’re being a giant dick about it.”

  “What did you just say?”

  “You’re a giant dick,” I huff and turn to leave, but before I even make it two steps, he’s on me. His arms wrap around me from behind then he spins me around to face him.

  “Tell me what you said.”

  “I did.”

  “Tell me again.”

  “You’re a dick,” I repeat, wondering why the hell he wants me to keep calling him that.

  “No, the part about you being in love with me.”

  “What?” I rear back in a panic, realizing what I admitted to him, not even realizing that I was admitting it.

  “You love me,” he repeats quietly, and I stare, having no idea what to do now. “We’ll try my place out for a few weeks. If you don’t like it, we’ll put it back on the market and find a place you and I can agree on.” He smiles then drops his face and nuzzles my neck. “You love me?”

  “I’m rethinking it,” I mutter, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck while tilting my head to the side to give him better access to the column of my throat.

  “It’s too late for that.” He leans back, smiling down at me, then places a soft kiss against my lips. “Have you eaten?”

  “No.”

  “Good, me either, let’s go.” He grabs my hand and starts to lead me away, but I stop him.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Pizza, I’m starving.”

  “Where did you go today when you left?” I frown; he was gone three hours, maybe a little more than that.

  “I drove around for a bit then went to Jax and Ellie’s.”

  “You did?” I whisper in disbelief, and his face softens.

  “He and I are good. He knows how I feel about you, and I needed his advice on how to proceed. You’re not exactly an open book.”

  “Oh, Lord,” I groan. “I can only imagine what he said to you.”

  “Nothing bad. He told me to get over myself, that I’m the first man you have ever been serious about and I need to give you time to adjust to us being an us.”

  “That’s good advice.” I nod, and he shakes his head in denial.

  “I don’t think so,” he mutters, dropping his forehead to rest against mine. “I want all of you. Your mind, your soul, and most importantly your heart. I want every breath you take to be for me. I want to imprint myself into your skin so you’ll crave me like a drug and never want to be without me.”

  “I think you may be crazy,” I cut in, studying the sincerity in his eyes. He really does want that from me, and the scary thing is, I think I already feel that way about him.

  “I’m in love with a woman who has made me crazy.”

  “You’ve made me crazy too,” I say quietly, and his face moves closer to mine.

  “No more fighting about the things that don’t matter. We have enough to deal with without fighting each other.”

  “You need to take your own advice.”

  “I’ll try,” he agrees, kissing me once more. “Now let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

  “Okay,” I agree, letting him lead me out of the house to his car that is parked in the driveway.

  Once we are both in and buckled, he backs out of the drive and heads down one street after another, out of my subdivision, with his hand wrapped around my jean-covered thigh while his fingers stroke my skin through one of the many holes in the material.

  “You’re going to make that tear enormous if you keep doing that.” I place my hand over his, catching him smile out of the corner of my eye. Running my fingers over the top of his hand, I watch the screen on his dash light up, announcing that he has a call, and my body freezes when I see the she-bitch-from-hell’s name pop up, catching me off-guard.

  “Fuck me,” he mutters, pressing deny on the call after the second ring.

  “Why is she calling you?”

  “Probably because her parents have been calling and I’ve not answered their calls.” I try to take a few breaths before I speak, because I don’t want to sound like a crazy woman when I do talk, but seriously, what the hell?

  “Why are her parents calling you?” Okay, good, that came out sounding halfway normal and not screeched at the top of my lungs like it did in my head.

  “Are you ready to talk about her and me?”

  God, am I? I don’t think so, but I really need to understand what the hell is going on.

  “I’m taking that as a no,” he mutters, sounding disappointed.

  “Are you close with her family?” I question, figuring that’s a safe place to start.

  “My brother and I lived with her parents after ours passed away,” he says, and my hand over his spasms. Flipping his palm upright, his fingers lace with mine and his thumb rubs gently over the rapid pulse in my wrist.

  “What about your grandparents?”

  “My grandfather passed the year before my parents, and my grandmother had be
en in the hospital for a while with dementia and passed away my second year of college.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago,” he says softly, but I still catch the twinge of pain in his tone.

  “Maybe, but I’m still sorry.” I squeeze his fingers. “How did you end up with her parents?”

  “My mom and her mom were sorority sisters in college and opened a law practice after they graduated. They were in our lives since I can remember.”

  “You didn’t have any other family?” I ask softly as he pulls up in front of the pizza place and parks diagonally in one of the empty spots.

  “My dad has a brother, but he didn’t have the ability to take two teenaged boys on. His plate was full with his wife and three girls, and my mom didn’t have any siblings. Her parents were older, much older when they had her, and they weren’t in a place where they could take us in either.”

  “So her family took you and your brother in?”

  “Yeah, the Trent’s were our saving grace. They lived close, so we didn’t have to change schools or make any huge adjustment. They were like family to us.”

  “And they were okay with you dating their daughter?” That is something I find hard to believe. There is no way my dad would be okay with me dating a boy who lived under the same room as me. No way in hell.

  “Are we talking about her now?” he asks, looking at me, and I squirm.

  “I don’t know,” I admit, and he sighs, shutting down the car, opening the door, and getting out. Releasing a deep breath, I open my door and meet him in front of the car before he can make it to me.

  “I can see the wheels in your head turning,” he says quietly, getting close and taking hold of my face in his large palms. He’s right. I have a billion questions, but I feel like it’s safer to live with my head buried in a mound of denial. “I know talking about her upsets you, but I’d really like to explain things to you.”

  “Dillon.” I sigh, wishing I was braver.

  “I’ll give you time, but if you have questions just ask.”

  “Do you still talk to her?”

  His thumb sweeps gently over my cheek and his eyes search mine. “I haven’t for a long time.”

  “Does she know you and I got married?” My heart accelerates at the idea of her knowing about us. I don’t care that she knows; I actually want her to know he’s mine. But with the things that have happened in the past to my family, I know sometimes information like that can set a person off, and regardless of whatever he thinks their relationship was, I have no doubt she was in love with him.

  “I’m sure she knows, since I told her parents about you and me.”

  “You did?”

  “They’re like family to me. I wanted them to share in my happiness,” he says, but the way his brow has furrowed says more than his words do. Brushing his lips over mine quickly, he takes my hand and leads me into the pizza place before I have a chance to ask him what they said, even though I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to that question.

  Chapter 6

  Dillon

  Hitting the snooze button on the alarm for thirty minutes, I smile as Ashlyn grumbles something in her sleep and burrows into my side. I wish we didn’t have to work today. I should have closed the office and taken her somewhere. We need a honeymoon, and I need an excuse to lock her in a room and keep her naked for at least a week, if not more.

  “Time to get up, gorgeous.” I sweep the hair off her forehead, and smile again when she bats my hand away and growls. She is not a morning person. I have never met someone who hates waking up as much as she does. Rolling her to her back, I kiss her jaw then down the column of her throat, grinning when she turns her head to the side in an offering, mumbling something I can’t make out. I can’t get enough of her.

  I knew I had it bad before, but now that I can touch her and taste her whenever and however I please, it’s different. She’s become my addiction. Licking across her shoulder, I cup her breast with my palm and pull her nipple into my mouth, feeling it tighten against my tongue as I pull on her nipple ring. Her back arches and her fingers slide into my hair as I glide my free hand down her stomach.

  “Dillon,” her sleepy voice calls, and my fingers move farther, finding her already primed and ready for me. I don’t wait. I position myself between her legs and wrap them around me before slipping inside of her.

  “Jesus.” I still and wait. There is always a moment during that first thrust that my balls draw up tight and my conscience leaves my body as her wet heat takes hold of me. Her hands sliding down my back bring me back to life and I pull out, only to thrust back in slowly. Hearing her mewl, I take her mouth and swipe my tongue over her lips, hearing her sharp intake of breath on a downward glide.

  “Faster.”

  I ignore her, keeping my pace slow and steady. Pulling her hands from my back, I drag them above her head. “Tell me you love me.” I need to hear her say it. It doesn’t seem possible that she does. Her eyes slide closed and I thrust in hard. “Look at me.” When her eyes open, I hold her gaze. “Tell me.” I thrust in again, feeling her walls tighten around me. I know she’s close, and I know in just a few more thrusts she will be coming all over me. “Tell me,” I growl on an outward slide, keeping myself from thrusting in hard and giving us what we both need.

  “I love you,” she cries in desperation, and I thrust deep, wrap my hand around both her wrists, and lean back so I can slide my free hand over her stomach. Finding her clit with my thumb, I circle. Whimpering against my mouth, her back arches off the bed. I love that this is only mine; every moan, every whimper, every time her breath catches, it’s only for me.

  “You’re so close,” I grit as her tight walls begin to pulse and spasm around my length, trying to hold me in place as I quicken my tempo. Rolling her clit in quicker circles, I cover her mouth, drinking down her orgasm as mine explodes deep within her. With one last thrust, I plant myself balls-deep, allowing her pulsing core to pull every last drop of my orgasm from me as my forehead drops to her collarbone.

  “Good morning,” she whispers after a long moment, and I place a kiss against her chest then pull back to look down at her, releasing her hands as I do.

  “Morning.” I grin, watching her slowly smile and stretch her arms over her head, thrusting her breasts into my face.

  “I think I just found the cure for my hate of mornings,” she moans as I suck her breast that she offered up into my mouth then let it go with a pop.

  “Is that an invention to wake you up like that every morning?” I question, drawing her other breast into my mouth while pulling out just a bit and sliding my still semi-hard cock back in.

  “Definitely,” she breathes, dragging her nails through my hair as I rock slowly in and out of her.

  “We need to get up and shower,” I remind her as the heels of her feet dig into my thighs in a silent demand.

  “We do,” she agrees, swiveling her hips, making me groan and my cock start to slowly come back to life.

  “Fuck,” I grumble against her mouth as the alarm goes off, breaking into the moment between us. “We need a vacation.”

  “What time is it?” I don’t answer. I’m too caught up in the way her body is reacting to my touch. Arching her back, her head presses into the pillow then her eyes widen. “Oh shit, we have to get ready!” she shouts, catching me off-guard, rolling me to my back, leaving me lying there half-hard and stunned as she quickly rolls off me and out of the bed.

  “What the fuck?” I do an ab crunch and try to catch her, but before I can get my arms around her she jumps back a foot, the movement making her breasts bounce enticingly.

  “Sorry.” She shakes her head then looks at my cock, which is now rock-hard and pointing at the ceiling. “Sorry,” she says again, apologizing this time to my cock that twitches in reply.

  “Christ,” I groan, falling to my back and covering my face with my hands in frustration. “You owe me.” I don’t even look at her. I can hear he
r opening her closet, so I know she’s close and can hear me loud and clear.

  “I swear I’ll make it up to you when we get home.” Dropping my hands from my face, I turn and glare at her.

  “Damn straight you will.”

  Her eyes roam over me, and she half apologizes through a soft giggle before turning and rushing off to the bathroom, where I hear the shower turn on a minute later. Looking down at my cock I fall back into bed with an aggravated sigh. It’s going to be a long fucking day.

  “Coffee, black, one sugar.”

  “And you?” the girl behind the counter pulls her eyes from me to ask Ashlyn. She must be new, since everyone else who works here knows Ashlyn by name and knows her coffee order by heart.

  “I’ll take a large iced coffee with cream and two sugars,” she says, and the girl types it into the register before looking at her once more.

  “Is that all?”

  “No… um…” She scans the display case. “Two chocolate cake pops, one birthday cake pop, and one blueberry muffin. Oh, and one of those chocolate chip cookies.” Ashlyn points out each item as the girl smiles, placing the items she asked for in a paper bag.

  “Hungry?” I question quietly, tugging her into my side, and her head tips back to look up at me.

  “A little.” She shrugs, smiling sheepishly, making me laugh. Without a thought, I dip my face and touch my mouth to hers, not able to help myself.

  “Will you share?” I ask against her lips, and she shakes her head.

  “Probably not.”

  “Not even with your husband you left high and dry this morning? We could have stayed in bed another twenty minutes. I had no idea this,” I jerk my head toward the display, “is why you were in such a rush.”

  “Okay, since you put it that way, I guess I can share a few bites with you,” she grumbles, making me smile and kiss her again. With my hand against her lower back, I lead her to the end of the counter where I pick up our drinks and get straws, watching as Ash opens the bag the girl hands her then pulling out a chocolate cake pop, eating the whole thing in one giant bite.