Ashton Morgan: Apartment 17B (The Wreck Me Series)

by Aly Stiles

  “Hey yourself.” I smile up at him, enjoying the way his gaze runs over me. A flood of heat burns away the pensiveness from a second ago the longer he studies me.

  Yeah, that I can definitely work with.

  “Can we get in the water?” I ask. “You owe me a pool cuddle.”

  A sexy smirk lifts the corner of his mouth. “A pool cuddle? What the hell is that?”

  I return a coy shrug and start toward the stairs. “Come find out,” I call back to him.

  Stepping into the water, I shiver with anticipation when I hear him behind me. Sense him, really. I can always tell when he’s close. It’s like my body has an allergic reaction, getting all heated and tingly whenever he’s in range.

  I wade to chest-level water and wait for him to catch up. When his hand grips my waist from behind, I grab it and drag him forward to force him in front of me. He looks surprised, but also curious when I press my palms against his chest, pushing him to the wall. Once he’s braced against the edge, I slide my hands around his neck and flatten my body against his.

  Sparks snap over my skin at the close, slick contact, and I know he feels it too when he hisses in a breath. With just the slightest targeted skim of my hips, I feel him harden against me. Yes, this is exactly what I was talking about. I thread my fingers into his hair, tugging just enough to get another reactive inhale.

  My grin turns deadly as I search his gaze and force his head down.

  “This is a pool cuddle,” I breathe against his lips.

  His smile tastes so good. I trap him against me, deepening the kiss until his hands grip my waist. He slides them down my back and over my butt, triggering a jolt of desire when he lifts me into him. I lock my legs behind him, enjoying the sensation of his warm, taut body I’ve coveted for so long. Tiny explosions rock low in my belly when I sink down to feel him against my center.

  “Ashton,” I breath out, rocking in an open invitation.

  He groans, and I squeeze my legs tighter, forcing my body into more direct contact. His eyes close, his breathing shallow and labored like mine. He releases one hand to clench the other in my hair, angling my head to devour me completely. I moan into the kiss, the tiny explosions becoming full on eruptions with each simulated movement.

  It’s not enough. Not even close.

  “Pool house,” I gasp out. “Now.”

  I jerk away before he can argue, grabbing his hand to drag him from the water. He follows willingly for once, looking as tortured as I feel when I push through the door and slam it shut behind us. I lock it and shove him onto the bed, climbing on top to position myself in perfect alignment. I hate that he’s still wearing too much clothing.

  “I don’t have protection,” he rushes out through my frantic kisses.

  “It’s fine. We can just play.”

  I sample his breathtaking grin before straightening to work off his suit.

  He lifts his hips when I grab the waistband, my breath catching in my throat as I jerk it down. I freeze when I lean back to study him.

  How am I this lucky?

  “You okay?”

  I bite my lip and shake my head, scared of the words that would come out if I tried to speak right now.

  No I’m not okay, Ashton. I won’t be okay until we’re together. Until you are wholly and completely mine.

  Instead, I reach for the clasp of my top and free it. I slide the straps off my shoulders and straighten as he consumes me with a scalding hazel gaze. I’m sure he wants more time to enjoy, but I need him again. Leaning down, I kiss him hard, violently, until he’s as lost and desperate as I am. He flips us over, and I practically whimper when I feel him at my entrance.

  “Ashton,” I gasp out, reaching for him. He flinches when I touch him, his face a mask of need.

  He looks like he’s in pain as he shakes his head. “We can’t, Iris. Not without a condom.”

  “I know,” I say. “We can pretend.” I force off the rest of my suit and lock my heels behind his thighs in encouragement.

  Taking my mouth again, he starts to move in agonizing, unfulfilling friction against me. Gasping, I kick myself for being so stupid. There’s no way I’m going to convince my body this is enough. My core is already pleading for more of him. All of him. Pulsing and needy in starved demands.

  Just when I’m ready to beg, he stops and adjusts to drag his lips to my neck. I clench my fists in the sheets, arching with each suck and kiss down my body. He pays extra attention to my nipples that harden in protest when he continues on. And then…

  I gasp, my hips bucking at just the first hint of his tongue. Then again. And again. Stars form and burst in rapid succession, my lips uttering instructions coming directly from deep lust. I tell him not to stop. And he doesn’t. I beg him to give me more. And he does. The stars erupt into galaxies of swirling exploding supernovas until—

  I choke back a cry and collapse to the sheets, finally opening my eyes to see the cutest grin staring up at me from between my thighs.

  I bite my lip, tossing a shy look back.

  “And I thought I liked your angry face…” he says with a mischievous glint.

  “Come here,” I return playfully, reaching for him.

  He climbs up my body until he’s braced over me again.

  Our smiles fade as we stare into each other’s eyes, and I reach up to trace his cheek. Spreading my fingers over the scruff, I grip the other side of his face as well and drag his head down. Our kiss this time is gentle and lingering.

  Essential.

  He pulls back, and it’s my turn for an impish grin. “Okay. You’re up, babe.”

  You’d think I’d have had enough of Ashton after what we just did on the bed, but apparently not, because I can’t stop touching him in the shower either. To be fair, watching him do anything is painful for my lady parts. Watching him soap his naked body? That should be downright illegal.

  He glances over his shoulder when I whine in protest behind him. His smile grows as I push my hands around his waist and down his stomach. He inhales sharply when I grab him, bracing his hands on the shower wall.

  “Iris…” he breathes out when I start a gentle stroke.

  “See? He wants me again.”

  “He always wants you,” Ash growls out. “That’s not the point.”

  “No?” My grip tightens, my movements more deliberate.

  He groans and rests his forehead on his arms against the tile. I like this position even better. I use my other hand to explore more of him.

  “What is the point?” I sink my fingers into his inner thigh, dragging them over his skin as my other hand continues a steady rhythm. His breathing accelerates, his body rigid against me.

  “Iris,” he gasps out.

  “Ash,” I reply in a sultry voice.

  “Shit, Iris.”

  I’m glad he can’t see my evil grin. “You feel as good as you taste,” I murmur, just to rile him more.

  I can tell it works when he stops talking and releases a deep sigh of surrender. I adjust for better access, loving how easy it is for me to own this man. Then again, he can own me with a single look. A smile. A glimpse of his devastating body and more incredible soul. I don’t even know which of us I’m pleasuring right now.

  With a heavy exhale, he collapses against the wall, breathing hard. I decide that’s one of my new favorite images. I can’t wait until I get to experience his release with my body.

  “Your dad and Bray are probably right outside again,” he forces through recovering breaths.

  “Okay, well, Dad called Braydon away to give us privacy because he already knows what we’re doing.”

  “Oh my god. Not helpful, Iris.”

  I laugh but let him go. He’s right. I hate it, but he’s right.

  It takes him a second to straighten again, and this time when I wrap my arms around him it’s for an innocent hug and kiss on his shoulder.

  “Thank you,” I say seriously, brushing my lips over his skin.

  He turns a
nd searches my eyes. “You’re amazing, Iris.”

  I pull his head down for one last kiss before swearing to myself I will let him finish his shower in peace. Well, maybe two kisses. Or three.

  He laughs when I back him into the wall for number four.

  After slipping on our wet suits, I take Ashton’s hand to lead him back to the pool. I can tell he’s nervous about facing my father after what so obviously went down, but with Ash’s busy schedule and Braydon’s constant presence, we’re going to have to take what we can get. And now that I’ve sampled what I can get, I’m already scheming to figure out how to secure more.

  “It’s going to be fine,” I toss back to him as I open the door. “Will you—”

  Ashton’s hand clenches around mine. I sense his entire body stiffen, and I have to swallow my own alarm.

  Be strong, Iris.

  I paste a bright smile on my face, and pull him behind me with confidence.

  “Hey, Ivy, welcome home. Vi, Harmony, good to see you. Oh hey, guys,” I add for the two men I vaguely recognize from when one made a pass at me a few weeks ago. Preston, maybe? Peter? The other I have no clue and don’t even try.

  “Well, hello,” my sister says with eerie cheerfulness. “It looks like you’ve been having fun while I was away.”

  I keep my smile wide and add a shrug. “Lots of fun. How was your trip?”

  “Great.” My heart races when her attention slides to Ashton. “Ashton, right? Good to see you again.”

  Her devious smile makes my stomach churn. Everything in me wants to drag him to the house, but that’s not the answer. What we have is special, and Ivy and her friends don’t get to diminish it and force us into hiding.

  “Ashton, you may remember Vi and Harmony.”

  Her smile turns downright vicious, and I can’t look at him. I know what I’d find would break my willpower and send me running. “Also, my friends Joseph and Pierce.”

  Pierce, that’s right. A fitting name for him based on the way he’s looking at us now.

  “Everyone, this is my sister’s new boyfriend, Ashton. They met when he served our table at Shelton’s. Oh, and you can thank him for that gorgeous section of patio over there. You should see this guy with a shovel! It’s inspiring. Guess you’re not working today?”

  Ash’s hand is a vice-grip around mine, and when I finally dare a look, his eyes are dark with resentment. Yeah, principles or not, this has to end now or someone will get hurt.

  “Nice to meet you,” Pierce says. “Way to go snagging this one. She turned me down, but I guess it makes sense now. Didn’t take you as a tourist, Iris. Enjoying your vacation on the other side of the tracks?”

  I feel sick when they exchange snickers.

  “I turned you down because you’re an asshole,” I hiss, starting toward the house.

  But I only make it a step when Ashton doesn’t budge. He’s now staring down Pierce, and my veins fill with dread.

  “Come on,” I say quietly. “It’s not worth it. He doesn’t deserve a reaction,” I say louder for the rest of our audience.

  “I mean, he’s hot. I’ll give him that,” Vi says with an obvious scan. “I kind of get it, actually.”

  “You’d fuck a telephone pole if it had a six-pack,” Harmony quips, but I don’t think Ashton caught any of that exchange as his gaze remains locked on Pierce.

  “Let’s go,” I whisper-yell, tugging his hand again.

  “I think he wants to fight us. Is that it, man? You want to duke it out for your pride and the girl?” He throws some mock punches.

  Ashton takes a step forward, pulling his hand from mine. Pierce laughs but I see his flicker of uncertainty. Yeah, that’s what I thought. All talk, no substance. And a coward to boot. I shouldn’t have stopped with turning him down when he asked me out. In my mental replay I now slap him and dump a drink on his head.

  “No, I’m not interested in fighting you,” Ashton says sharply, his gaze fixed on Pierce. “My girlfriend deserves better than that. Also, that ugly-ass necklace you’re wearing is a fake.”

  “Fuck off,” Pierce quips, dismissing him with a wave. He turns to his friend with an incredulous expression. “It’s a Livio Sorrentino chain,” he explains smugly.

  “Yeah. And if you paid attention to the news, you’d know the Livio Sorrentino jewelry line just got busted for passing off cheap gold-plated knockoffs as genuine twenty-four karat heirloom pieces. I’m pretty sure it was that exact chain in the editorial photo. Enjoy your swim,” he spits out, stalking toward the house.

  “Yeah, well. At least I don’t shovel manure for a living,” the guy calls back.

  I bite back a laugh at the pathetic comeback. If he wasn’t such a dick I might’ve felt sorry for him. I don’t have to look at Ashton to know he’s smirking to himself.

  Inside, I try to steady my shaking hands and labored breathing. That was horrible. And amazing. And I don’t even know, but I’m worried about Ashton when he leans against a column in the solarium.

  “Ash?”

  I approach him slowly and tuck my arms around his waist. Resting my head against his chest, I can hear the rapid pound of his heart.

  “It’s fine,” he says. I can’t tell if it’s a lie.

  “They’re assholes.”

  “I know.”

  I look up at him, not liking how I still can’t read him. “They said all that stuff because they’re threatened. Ivy is jealous of me, Pierce is jealous of you, and the others are too shallow and weak to think for themselves.”

  “I know.”

  I sigh when I realize that’s all I’m going to get from him. Whatever reaction is really grinding through that complex head will remain a mystery. His stare is fixated on a statue by the door, and there’s nothing I like about the fact that he’s going to process that encounter alone.

  Staring back through the window, my fist tightens as I watch my sister laugh and splash water at one of her friends like what she just did to Ashton (and me) was nothing. He’ll be carrying that moment for heaven knows how long, while it probably didn’t even register on her conscience as an event.

  I love Ivy, I guess, in that way you love someone because they’re part of you and you share inextricable history with them, but she can be mean and downright cruel at times. I’ve always sensed it was her method of self-preservation, a way to control a situation and relationship and guarantee she was the one doing the hurting, not the other way around.

  She was older when Dad adopted us about twenty years ago. I don’t remember anything except growing up with a loving father and virtual stepmother in June. Ivy says she doesn’t either, but sometimes I think she’s lying. Either way, none of that justifies her behavior, and now that it’s hurting someone I care about, my own defenses are locking into place.

  When I can’t take Ashton’s silence anymore, I tug the waist of his suit, letting it snap back against his skin to get his attention. He looks down at me in surprise as if he forgot I was even here. I search his eyes, but still can’t read anything. Giving up, I ask the other question that’s been nagging me.

  “Is what you said about his necklace true?”

  A smile finally breaks through his severe expression. “No. I had no clue what kind of necklace he was wearing. Only that it was ugly and stupid.”

  I snort a laugh. “Oh my gosh. I love you.” I wince and peek up at him. “I mean, not love love… You know what I mean.”

  He smiles again and plants a kiss on my nose. “I do. And I love you too not like that.”

  I laugh and shove him. He grins and captures me against his chest.

  “But, Iris.” His tone is grave again, and that familiar wave of dread returns. “If we’re going to be together, we’re going to have to get used to that. And probably a lot worse. I’m sure those people are the norm, not your father.”

  I sigh, my heart soaring and breaking for so many reasons. I reach up and direct his attention to me, sucking in a breath when our eyes meet. How can anyone not
see how incredible he is? It makes no sense to me.

  “I’m sorry that’s the way things are. It’s not fair.”

  He averts his gaze, his face hardening into that mask I hate so much. The one I’ve worked so hard to break through.

  “Iris, if you want to be in my world, that’s my world.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  ASHTON

  I’m not thrilled about leaving Braydon at the Alexander home with Ivy and her friends hovering around, but Iris assures me she’ll keep him away from them, even promising to go on an off-site field trip if necessary. I leave the booster seat with her just in case.

  My phone rings with a video call on the way to work, but I ignore it, assuming it’s Bray via Iris’ phone wanting to show me another cool thing he’s discovered at the Alexanders’ never-ending museum of awesomeness. I’ll call him back when I park.

  Cranking the music, I let my mind wander to the turbulence of these past weeks. It’s hard to believe that a month ago I didn’t know Iris Alexander existed. I was trapped in a hopeless loop of survival with no signs of light at the end of the tunnel. Hell, I couldn’t even see the tunnel. I was nothing but a machine, cashing in my body and soul for money during every waking hour, then collapsing on the couch each night, only to wake up and repeat the cycle. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, they were all the same.

  It’s the cycle of survival, when living is a reflex, not a choice.

  Iris changed all that. I still don’t see how we can have a future, but she’s brought me to life in the present in a way I haven’t felt since I abandoned my dreams nine months ago. She makes me look forward to mornings, not blacking out for a few hours of relief at night. She makes me want to fight to find a way out of this pit instead of fighting to keep myself from drowning in it. Sometimes when we’re together, I even start to believe there could be more for me. That maybe there’s a future that’s better than this, even if I can’t see it.

  Hope. Iris is hope.

  It’s too bad she found me when I’ve already been reduced to ash.

  I pull into a spot behind the restaurant and turn off the engine. Swiping my phone off the passenger seat, I prepare to call her back when my stomach drops. The call wasn’t from my kind-of girlfriend.