Bossy Bastard: A Hero Club Novel

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Bossy Bastard: A Hero Club Novel Page 15

by J. L. Perry


  “Oh, the poor dear.” Although my head is bowed, I can feel everyone’s eyes on me. “Should I call Dr. Ramsey?”

  “No, I’ll make sure she’s looked after.”

  I feel awful for deceiving her, but if I’m forced to eat those frog legs, I’ll surely barf.

  Ashton lets go of my hand and pulls me into his side, placing a soft kiss on the side of my head. He’s being very sweet. My eyes dart to Willow, and she’s staring at us. She looks like she’s about to cry.

  Valentina rises from her seat, coming around the table to us. She gently cups my face, studying me before placing her hand on my forehead, checking to see if I have a temperature. Tears sting the back of my eyes. It’s something a mother would do. I’m sure my mom did just that when I was a little girl.

  I force out a smile, feeling even shittier now. I should’ve just blocked my nose and shoved those damn legs down my throat. My father tricked me into eating ox tongue once, and it didn’t kill me. Although I did stick my fingers down my throat and vomit when he confessed.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, which comes out more like a whisper.

  “It can’t be helped. Would you like me to get Manu to make you up a plate to take home?”

  “That would be—” I’m about to say lovely, but Ashton cuts me off. I’m just being polite.

  “No.”

  His mother’s eyes dart to him briefly before focusing back on me. “Will you come back another time?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “That would make me happy,” Valentina says and surprises me when she leans forward, kissing my cheek. “Maybe I could get your number from my son, and we can have lunch together… just the two of us.”

  I feel Ashton’s body stiffen beside me. He may not be keen on me spending time with her, but I don’t care. I like her, and it’s been almost twenty years since I’ve experienced anything close to a mother’s love, so I reply with, “That sounds lovely.”

  “Okay.” A smile bursts onto her face as her attention moves to Ashton. “Can you text me Emma’s number, please?”

  He clears his throat. “Of course.”

  After bidding our goodbyes, we head toward the front door.

  “It was lovely meeting you tonight, Charles,” I say, clasping his hand between mine as we pass. “And thank you for your hospitality.”

  He smiles broadly. “The pleasure was all mine, Miss Phoenix.”

  “Night, Charles,” Ashton says, reaching for my hand again.

  “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Master Barclay.”

  “I’m starting to realize what a dangerous woman you are, Miss Phoenix.”

  “Me… dangerous. How so?”

  “You could charm the pants off anyone without batting an eyelid. Not only did you captivate everyone tonight, I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve ever seen Charles smile.”

  “Not everyone,” I say. “Willow made it clear she didn’t like me.”

  “Ugh,” he grunts. “No great loss there.”

  Ashton opens the passenger side door for me, but instead of climbing in, I slide my arms around his waist. “You saved me twice tonight,” I say, hugging him briefly. “Thank you. Apart from my father, you’re the only person that’s ever stood up for me.” My lips lightly brush with his before I withdraw and seat myself in his spiffy car.

  There’s a huge grin on his face as he rounds the front of the vehicle.

  I sigh. I wish things weren’t so different between us.

  It would be so easy to fall for a guy like him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ASHTON

  “Do you want me to take you straight home?” I ask as we approach the front gates of my parents’ house.

  Please say no.

  “Actually, I’m starving. I’ve hardly eaten all day. Would you mind if we grabbed a quick bite to eat somewhere?”

  “Sure.” Yes! “Is there anything you feel like in particular?”

  “Hmm…” Emma places her finger on her chin and taps it as she thinks hard like the question requires a monumental answer. She’s so fucking sweet. “I could go a burger and fries.”

  “Burger and fries, it is.”

  Twenty minutes later, we pull into a small diner. I’ve never eaten here before, but there’s a decent amount of cars parked out front, so that’s usually a good sign. It’s not fine French dining, but it’s what she wants. I owe her after what she had to endure tonight.

  We’re lucky enough to get seated pretty fast, and Emma wastes no time picking up the menu and scanning over the selections.

  “Oh, they have pie,” she says, her eyes widening with excitement. “I’m going to get me some of that.” I smile at her words. I seem to do a lot of that when I’m around her. Her eyes dart from the menu to me. “Do you like pie?”

  “I like your pie… that Key lime one you made for Grayson’s party.”

  “You liked that, huh?” she asks, grinning.

  “Very much. If I buy the ingredients, will you make me one?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Let me know what I need to get.”

  “Okay.” She places down the menu. “Do you know what you’re having?”

  “If you were on the menu, I’d order you, but since you’re not, I’m not picky.”

  Her eyes move down to the table as heat rises to her cheeks. I love how the simplest things can make her blush.

  The waitress approaches our table. “Are you guys ready to order, or would like some more time?”

  I pick up the menu, looking over it while Emma orders what she wants. “Can I please get a cheese and bacon burger… double cheese… double bacon, fries… umm, a piece of coconut pie. Oh, and a chocolate shake?”

  That’s a lot of food, there’s no way she’s going to get through it all, Sinful-Saturday or not. I do love a woman with an appetite, though. The ones that graze on lettuce annoy me.

  The waitress writes her order on the pad before turning her attention to me. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.” My eyes dart to Emma, and she smiles.

  “So, tell me, Mr. Barclay, can you speak French, or is frog legs your limit?”

  “Fluently and Italian. We used to alternate our summers between both countries when I was younger.”

  “Wow, lucky you. I’ve always wanted to visit Paris… the city of love.” She says that part all dreamy, and my jaw ticks at the possibility of her going there with another man. “My summers were always spent on the farm. With my dad working all the time and having the animals to care for, we couldn’t leave.”

  I shrug. “To be honest, my summers weren’t all that great either. France and Italy are beautiful, but my parents would go off and do whatever it is they do, and I’d usually be left at the house to be entertained by the staff.”

  “Oh,” she says, reaching across the table to place her hand on mine. “That doesn’t sound like fun. It sucks being an only child sometimes, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes. I would’ve preferred to have stayed in America. At least, I had Grayson here.”

  “How long have you two been friends?”

  “Most of our lives,” I say. “I met him in elementary school. We were about seven. So, we’ve been friends for twenty-three years.”

  “That’s a long time. It’s nice that you stayed friends.”

  “He’s like a brother to me. I was new at the school, and he was assigned to show me around. We hit it off straight away.”

  “Where did you move from?”

  “I didn’t. My parents sent me off to boarding school in London when I was five. I hated it.”

  Emma’s eyes widen. “They sent you to a strange country on your own when you were so young?”

  “Yeah. Thankfully, after a lot of begging, pleading, and threatening to run away, my mother eventually talked my father into letting me attend school here.”

  “Oh, Ashton, you poor thing. That would’ve been so scary for you.”

  I shrug. It was the worst. To thi
s day, I still harbor a grudge against my parents for putting me through that.

  We’re quiet for a moment, but it’s not an awkward silence. I like how easy it is to be around her. It’s been a long time since I’ve truly felt comfortable around a woman.

  It doesn’t take long for the food to arrive, and I laugh when Emma rubs her hands together excitedly.

  “Thank you,” we both say in unison.

  My eyes scan over my meal as Emma wastes no time squeezing ketchup onto her plate, dipping a fry in it and popping it into her mouth.

  “This is more like it.” She reaches for her shake, wrapping her lips around the straw. Lucky straw. “Mmm…” That sound alone gives me a semi. Christ, I need to get laid stat. It’s been a month, my longest dry spell in years. The problem is, the only woman I want to fuck is sitting right in front of me.

  “Say something to me in French, Ashton.”

  “Like what?”

  “Anything,” she says, picking up her burger and taking a bite. Her tongue juts out, licking the tiny bit of sauce from her lip, and it makes my cock go from a semi to a full-blown hard-on.

  I want that tongue on me.

  “Okay.” I think for a moment and smile to myself when I come up with the perfect thing. “Je veux voir tes lèvres douces enroulées autour de ma bite.”

  “That sounds so sexy,” she replies around the food in her mouth.

  I chuckle because she has no idea what I said. She’d slap me if she knew I just told her I’d like to see her sweet lips wrapped around my dick.

  I need to speak to her in French more often.

  I get the same uneasy feeling I had this morning as we climb the stairs to her apartment. Our time together is almost over, and I don’t want it to be. What is it with this woman? She has me tied up in knots.

  “Can I come in for a minute?” I ask once we reach her door.

  “I’m not falling for that trick again.”

  “What trick?”

  “You only want to come in so you can steal Elijah?”

  “That’s not why I want to come in,” I say, chuckling. “Though rest assured when the time is right, that fucker is going down.”

  We both laugh. “Poor Elijah, what did he ever do to you?”

  “He stole what’s mine.”

  “And what’s that exactly?”

  “Your orgasms, Em, that’s what. They belong to me, remember?”

  She swallows nervously. “No, they don’t.”

  “Yes, they do!” I grin when she doesn’t argue. She’d never admit it, but she likes that I own her orgasms. “Now, are you going to let me come in or not?” I step into her personal space, our bodies are almost touching as I place my forehead against hers. Her delicious vanilla scent surrounds me, and our closeness makes my heart rate accelerate. I want to kiss her. I’ve been fantasying about my lips on hers all day. “One minute, Em, that’s all I’m asking.”

  Because I’m pretty sure that’s all I need.

  I’m skilled at my craft.

  “What can you do in one minute?”

  “Touch you… I want to finish what I started last week on the beach. And before you say anything, I mean with my hand, not my mouth. I don’t want to be branded as another one of your halves.”

  A smile tugs at her lips. “There’s no limit to touching.”

  “Irrelevant. I still need to finish what I started. I’m not a half-in kind of guy.”

  “Is that so?”

  Leaning in, I run my nose up the side of her neck and feel her shiver. “I can’t bear the thought of you going to bed with that fake fucker… especially after spending most of your day with me.” I pull back, feathering my lips across hers, hoping to seal the deal. She likes it when I kiss her, I know.

  I like it too.

  “I’m your fake girlfriend, so going to bed with a fake fucker is quite fitting.”

  “Don’t be a wiseass, Emma.”

  She blows out a puff of air, and I can sense her indecision, so I up the ante. “Come on, Em. You know you want my hands on you.” I want my hands on you. “I don’t want to do it out here where people might see, but if you won’t let me come in, you’ll leave me no choice.”

  I wouldn’t do that to her, but I’m not above throwing in an idle threat here and there. I’m used to getting what I want, and I’ll play dirty if I have to. I arch an eyebrow as I await her reply.

  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

  That’s not the answer I was hoping for.

  Raising my hands, I cup her face. “Trust me, Em. Let me do this for you, and then I’ll leave, I promise. I don’t expect anything in return.”

  Please, say yes.

  After a brief pause, she nods her head, and I do an inner fist pump. She finds me irresistible.

  “Thank you.”

  There’s a huge smile on my face as I take the keys out of her hands and open the door. Emma’s nervous, and I get that. She makes me nervous too.

  I rest my hand on the small of her back as I lead her inside. The moment the door closes behind us, I’m on her.

  I’m desperate.

  Her back hits the wall as my lips crash into hers. “Em,” I breathe as my arms encircle her waist, drawing her closer. “I’ve been dying to do this all day.”

  She tosses the clutch in her hand onto the floor before burying her fingers in my hair. Our kiss deepens. It’s feverous, hot, and so fucking good. She tastes like all that’s right in the world. I waste no time as my hands travel over her hips, pausing when I reach her outer thighs. My fingers grasp around her leg, lifting and anchoring it around my waist. Emma’s body hums with anticipation.

  My other hand moves behind her, following the contour of her back. I grab a fist full of her hair, wrapping it around my wrist, so I can tilt her head back and gain better access to her delicious mouth.

  When my lips trail across her jawline and down her neck, Emma mewls. She tastes so damn sweet.

  Rolling my hips forward, I rock against her pussy, hitting right where she needs it. My cock is so hard it could slice through granite.

  I need to feel her skin.

  My hand moves up to her waist, tugging on the bow that resides there. It’s been taunting me all evening, especially knowing it’s all that lies between me and seeing what’s underneath. It’s like unwrapping a gift.

  The best gift ever.

  The light silk fabric parts, collecting by her sides.

  I have to see her.

  Drawing back, I retreat one step.

  A deep rumble rips from the back of my throat as I take her in. Her hair is slightly disheveled, and her plump lips are swollen from my kiss. Her pink lace bra strains against her ample mounds. Fuck, I could suffocate in her cleavage and die a happy man.

  My eyes move over her toned stomach. She’s perfect. I’m expecting more lace when my gaze travels further, but instead, I find cotton briefs with tiny cupcakes on them. The smile on my face grows, they may not be sexy, but they’re so fucking sweet, just like her.

  By the time our eyes meet once more, she’s blushing. “You’re flawless, Em…” Kiss. “So perfect…” Kiss.

  She intakes a sharp breath when my thumb glides over one of her hardened peaks. Everything in me wants to strip her naked, so I can lick and taste every damn inch of her.

  I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life.

  But her innocence and inexperience mean I have to take things slow. I know where she’s come from now, and she deserves to be worshiped. I don’t want to fuck this up. Mark my words, one day I’m going to take her the way I need. I want to own her body, possess it, but not here, not now.

  I dip down to place a kiss on the swell of her breast as I palm the other one with my hand. They’re so soft, so beautiful. She whimpers as her head tilts back, and her body arches into my touch. Leaning in, I lick a path from the base of her exposed neck to her chin.

  “Ashton,” she breathes, bringing her face back in line with mine. “I need you
to touch me.”

  My lips turn up as they move in to lock with hers. I knew it, she’s desperate for my touch. Stepping forward, I push her further into the wall as my fingers skate down her abdomen. Her skin is softer than the silk of her dress.

  I dip my fingers into the front of her panties as her hands find their way back into my hair. “Oh God,” she moans into my mouth as I waste no time sliding through her slick folds.

  She’s so wet for me.

  It’s such a turn on.

  “Open your legs,” I command, and her stance immediately widens. “That’s it, good girl.” I think I like submissive Emma just as much as I like her sassy side.

  She tugs on my hair when I slip a finger into her snug, warm pussy, followed closer by another.

  “Yes.”

  “So tight,” I whisper. My thumb circles her clit as my fingers delve deeper. I can’t wait for the day I get to feel her heat gripping my cock.

  Emma starts moving her hips forward, bucking into my hand.

  “That’s it, sweet-thing, fuck my fingers.”

  My cock aches.

  I want to fuck her so bad.

  Emma’s hands move down from my hair, fisting in the lapel of my jacket. Her movements pick up, so I match her stroke for stroke.

  She’s close.

  “Don’t come until I tell you to,” I demand. Although I’m dying to see her unravel again, it’s imperative I retain control. This woman undoes me.

  “Ashton,” she breathes as her body starts to quiver. “I’m—”

  Shaking my head, I chuckle as my forehead rests against hers. I should’ve known she’d disobey me. “Let go, Em. Come all over my fingers.” I can’t possibly deny her.

  My free arm snakes around her waist, holding her upright. “Open your eyes.” I need her to see it’s me who’s giving her pleasure.

  Her lips part and her hooded eyes lock with mine for the briefest of moments before rolling back into her head. I almost come in my pants when her inner muscles clench around my fingers. “Yes, that’s it, baby,” I say, increasing the pressure on her clit. “Let it go.”

  The sweetest sound rips from her lips as another wave sweeps through her. Her body convulses as it tries to fold in on itself, but I don’t stop my assault until I’ve milked every last ounce of pleasure from her. Emma goes limp in my arms, and satisfaction rolls over me.

 

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