by Cam Johns
“You can’t know who I am right now. My life is meaningless. I’m nothing… nobody,” she says, staring down and away from my glare.
I grab her cheeks in my hands and pull her head up to look at me. I stare quietly, inching my face closer to hers. I’m sure the anger and concern are all over my face. “You’re beautiful.”
She looks down at her feet, but I grip her cheeks more firmly to lift her head back up.
“No! You have no idea how beautiful you are.” I release her face and place one arm above her head to lean my weight against the wall, towering over her. I use the pointer finger of my other hand to trace a line, starting at her forehead, moving slowly down the center of her face and stopping at her lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to feel these against mine.”
I trace her lips as my soft touch makes her body visibly shiver. I then use the same finger to run a straight path down her chin, her neck, and through the center of her chest, down to her belly button. Her body involuntarily pushes against mine, begging for me to let my finger dip inside her pants.
But I slide my fingers to her hips and grab at them. “Your curves have always driven me insane.” I stare at her ravenously, making her impulsively lick her lips. I growl, letting my hand fall to her ass, gripping it and pulling her against me. What the fuck is my fascination with her ass? “I don’t ever want to hear you say anything like that again. Do you understand me?”
The stern tone in my voice makes her nod her head in agreement. I lean my head down, using my nose to shove her face up further. My lips are barely touching hers; I continue to gaze as if I’m asking permission to kiss her. Although I recognize the fear in letting go and to accept my indiscretion for what it is, I need her to relinquish her inhibitions and feel the longing I have to be with her. To have her. All of her and everything she comes with. This decision has to be hers.
She finally leans her lips against mine, and I complete our connection, slowly enveloping her lips within mine as I softly caress her plump bottom that I love every inch of. She opens her eyes to mine, I guess, suddenly remembering we’re in public. I hear the footsteps of people passing by, taking glimpses at our public display of affection.
“People are watching,” she whispers, muffled.
I don’t stop. I press my lips firmly against hers, intensifying our kiss. “Let them watch.” I lift her onto my waist, smothering her lips. I sway my hips in a tight circular motion in an intentional manner, wanting her to crave me as I do her. Again. I’m sure she feels my growth against the thin material of these tight-ass jogging pants she’s wearing. Everything around us falls away as her body begins to tense.
Hmm, maybe she’ll orgasm here. Right now.
“Asht—” she tries to talk, but I smother her mouth with mine to ignore her resistance. I suddenly feel her tug at the back of my hair, pulling my head away from her. “Not here.”
I stare at her, pissed that I’ve been stopped, but turned on by her forcefulness. I don’t think she realizes what she’s done. “Fine.” I put her down, grab her hand, and quickly lead her to my car, which is only a few feet away from where we are.
We need to have a serious discussion about telling me no. Except there won’t be any talking.
11
The Ball
Cynthia
As I blink in the morning light, shining into the bedroom, I stare at the clock, seeing it’s well after nine. I jump up and out of bed, forgetting I no longer had to get up and get dressed early before waking my sisters up and get ready for school. I didn’t have to make their breakfast and lunches before taking care of myself and getting off to class on time. Most importantly, I don’t have to deal with my mother berating me as her morning wake up routine. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard a thing from my mother since that day. The day she could’ve put me in the hospital for the first time had Ashton not intervened. The day I slept peacefully all night for the first time since my grandparents died. It’s now exactly two weeks later and the day of the ball. Although it’s a Saturday morning, I know Doris is taking care of my sister’s needs.
I fall back on the bed, enjoying the comfort and ease of a temporary life. Ashton’s parents are supposed to return in two days, and I’m sure that will put an end to our rendezvous. Although they were nice enough to let me and my sisters stay in what they consider a guesthouse, I fear they will be sending me back to my mother. I also don’t know if I’ll continue to feel secure living in the home of a retired mobster.
I’ve heard things. Things that would scare anyone who needs to look out for someone other than themselves. But Ashton has reassured me nothing and no one will ever bring harm to us. I spread out on the bed in the room I’ve had to myself since we moved into his guesthouse, which fits our entire home. I’ve never had a room to myself before, and it’s nice, mainly because I don’t have to hear Penelope snoring.
I finally get up, gather my things to shower, and then make breakfast. I’m not sure why Ashton hasn’t bombarded his way in here yet, but I welcome the quiet. It’s not that I don’t enjoy our time together, it’s more him pressuring me to stay. I get he just wants to protect me, but I want to make this decision on my own. I can’t make that decision without talking to his parents.
Besides, once I’m out of school and in my career, hopefully, I’ll be able to take care of my sisters. That is if they aren’t already spoiled. There’s no way I’ll be able to afford this kind of lifestyle.
Out of the shower, I stand in front of the mirror, staring at what Ashton believes is the best body he has ever seen in his life. Or at least, that’s how he makes me feel.
I don’t believe it. He’s been with so many women that look like models. I don’t get it. I stare at my naked body, mentally criticizing my short stubby legs, wide hips, and huge ass. I’m only 5’3”, and I’ve never seen him with anyone as short as me. He’s only had tall brunettes on his arm. Who could really love all these imperfections? I pick at them one-by-one, starting with the one on my ankle and ending with the bruise my mother left from a switch on my back that won’t heal.
“I could stare at you all day.” Ashton surprises me, standing in the doorway. He’s so tall he has to dip his head to walk into the room.
Startled, I grab my robe from the bed and quickly cover myself up. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
He chuckles. “What are you doing?” He grabs my hand, and I clasp the robe together with the other. Placing me in front of the tall mirror, he moves behind me. He tugs at the hand I’m using to keep my robe closed, reluctant to let go as if he’s never seen me naked before.
“Stop.” His stern look sends chills down my body, and I let him remove my hand. The robe slightly falls open. He grabs the nape of the silk robe and lets it slide down to the floor. I want to cover up using the only thing that’s available to me: my hands. But I know he won’t let me. He slowly pulls out the pin holding my bun in place and lets my hair fall to my shoulders. “I don’t know how you can’t see how beautiful you are.” His fingers roam my body from the nape of my neck down the length of my arms. “Hmm.” He leans down, moving my hair to the side and stares at me through the mirror. “Every time I see your body, I want to bend you over and fuck the shit out of you.”
He bites into my neck and cups my breast into his hands. My head falls back against him with his touch, sending me reeling for more. His hands slowly fall to my middle. “Don’t you ever cover up like that again.” He rubs me there vigorously until I release before tossing me on the bed to show me just what my body does to him.
Totally ignoring time, we lie entangled within each other; he runs his fingers through the length of my hair. Not wanting to move. Not wanting to leave our peaceful connection. I’ve never thought I’d be lying in bed next to Ashton, let alone feel this at ease and fearless. Fear has lived with me my entire life. To be able to lie here like this over these past couple of weeks without apprehension is astonishing. I didn’t think someone I loathed would save me from
my own inhibitions.
“We have to get ready.” He kisses my forehead before abruptly swinging his long legs off the bed.
“Do we have to?” I ask, turning on my side to face him and lifting the blankets up to below my eyes. I stare at him as seductively as my naïve femininity allows. After all, I barely have any experience with this being sexy thing. “I kind of like lying beside you,” I whisper.
He stares, cocking his head to the side, studying my expression. He picks up a couple of boxes he left sitting just outside the doorway, then returns to the bedside, placing the boxes neatly at the foot of the bed. He studies me a little more with his hands crossed, licking his lips slowly.
Finally, he steps forward, placing his fists on the bed and leans down to me. “See, this look you’re giving me makes me think you want to get fucked. Which I have no problem with.” He pauses, nuzzling my nose up with his, breathing heavily. “I don’t have any more rubbers on me.” He kisses me hard, forcing my head back against the pillow. He doesn’t follow me, but his lengthy body stretches far enough that he doesn’t lose his connection to my lips. “Unless you want a baby right now ‘cause—”
I push him off me and stand quickly. “Okay, you ruined it.” I giggle and point to the door. “Get the fuck outta here.”
He chuckles, extending his long arms wide. “What did I say?” He must have known that statement would get me up.
I don’t respond, just laugh louder than I have in many years and point to the door again.
“Fine.” He points to the boxes on the bed. “Ashley’s people will be here for you once they’re done with her.”
He backs out of my new room as I begin to open the boxes on the bed. I suddenly feel hands creep around my waist and rest on my belly. I smell the cologne my brain has memorized, knowing it’s him without laying an eye on him. He leans down, so his lips are at the nape of my neck and kisses me softly. “I can’t wait to show you off, beautiful,” he whispers in my ear, then disappears once again.
I smile profusely, excited to know he thinks I’m beautiful despite all the things that make me unappealing to someone like him. It’ll take some time, but eventually, I’ll allow myself to be wanted, needed by someone who clearly cares for me. Even with all the baggage, he accepts me. And that’s all I can ever ask for.
I finally get out of my own head and unpack the boxes he left for me. One of them reveals the bluest of fabulous gowns I have ever seen in my life. And I get to wear it. The other two contain matching shoes and accessories I’m sure cost more than the damn dress. And he expects me to wear this. I’d be too scared to lose them or ruin them; they’re so expensive-looking. Before I call him and complain, I hear the doorknocker in the front of the house. So I throw my robe on, assuming it’s Ashley’s people, as Ashton calls them.
As I approach the very large, glass French doors, I see a group of people standing there patiently. “Can I help you?” I ask, not recognizing a single face staring back at me.
“Cynthia? We’re Ashley’s beauty team. Ashton said you needed us to get you ready also,” the pretty one in front with the perfect body, hair, and makeup speaks.
“Oh, she definitely needs us,” someone in her team whispers. She’s clearly the boss because I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of that look. People have been snickering about me my entire life.
“I appreciate whatever help you can give me,” I respond, letting them in.
They all file in and begin setting up in the oversized living room for a guesthouse. “May I see the dress?” the leader asks as her team finishes setting up their prospective stations.
She follows me into the bedroom, and I point at the dress I left lying on the bed. “There it is.”
She smiles. “Beautiful.” She holds it up to examine. “Because the back is cut so low and it’ll hang off of your shoulders a bit, I’ll put your hair up in a loose bun. The style will go well with those bad boys too.” She points to the dangling topaz earrings that she doesn’t dare touch. “Let’s get started.”
It seems to take forever to get my hair and makeup done. Too damn long. I don’t know why women have to deal with this shit all the time. I’d rather go back to being single. Now, I’m overly frustrated as I rush to put on my matching blue and black lace bra and panty bustier set. I finally have it clipped to my stockings and slide my shoes on before finding my way back to the dreaded mirror. I stand their bewildered, unable to even recognize myself. Now I get it.
“Ho-ly-fuuccckk.” I hear Ashton before I see him, standing in the doorway salivating. He begins to charge, but I hold my hands up.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare!” I shout. “It took a long time to get like this.” I laugh, backing up from him.
He shrugs his shoulders. “They’re still here. They’ll fix it.” He lunges forward to grab me, but I turn quickly to get away and trip on my own feet.
He catches me before I hit the floor and pulls me up and against his chest. He stares at me, grabbing at the curves of both butt cheeks. “As soon as I get you back home, my lips are going to kiss every crevice of your body.” He growls and then lets me go. “You might want to get dressed, or we won’t be leaving this room.” He leaves the room. “We’ll be in the main house,” he shouts.
After slipping on my gown, as well as the expensive shoes and jewelry Ashton got me, I examine my appearance one last time in the mirror. I stare, amazed at how beautiful I look. It’s so clear at this point that money changes how I feel about myself in some ways. I’ve never smiled so much about how I look… ever. After walking off-balanced in these way-too-high shoes, I decide to practice a little more before embarrassing myself, and the Prestons for that matter. Once I’m satisfied with my timid stride in these quite comfortable but unfamiliar heels, I head over to the main house before Ashton’s impatience drags me out.
“I’m ready,” I say as I step into the foyer just as Doris snaps a picture of Ashton and Ashley.
Everyone’s mouths drop instantly, making me blush with discomfort. I don’t know why, but I immediately feel discouraged thinking of how awful I must look on a regular basis to get this type of reaction.
“Oh. My. God. You look so freakin’ hot girl!” Ashley says, slightly lifting her yellow gown off the floor to walk swiftly over to me.
“Please, that gown is so pretty,” I say as she kisses me on both cheeks, then pulls my arms apart to fully appreciate my dress.
“What can we say? We’re hot as hell.” She shrugs her shoulders, then moves from in front of me.
Ashton stands in the same place, gawking. Before I speak, I hear the familiar patter of both my sisters’ feet scurrying from the back of the house. They charge straight for me, ignoring my elegance, and trample all over the gown. I do nothing but stoop down to their level and kiss them on the forehead, then implore them to listen to Doris while I’m not around.
Something they do most of the time anyway, but it doesn’t hurt to remind them I have no problem punishing them. They kiss me one last time before running toward the back of the house to complete whatever had them so preoccupied. By this point, Ashton has finally approached me.
“You’ll be lucky if you make it an hour at this ball before I’m pulling this gown up and fucking the shit out of you,” he says as he grabs my hand, leading me to the limousine that’s waiting along with Ashley and Lance.
12
When the Clock Strikes Midnight
Ashton
I know for certain this will be a short night. The only reason I’m even indulging Cyn is because she’s never been to a ball or dance, and I want her to have the experience with me. I want to make it memorable, just like every other first we’ll have throughout our future. I plan on there being many.
A plan I hope she’ll consider once I tell her. She’s been so independent most of her life; I can’t see her wanting me to take care of her. However, I do want to offer her the security her mother has not. A place to call home for herself and, hopefully, her sisters if her
mother backs off.
I’ve tried keeping things that have been happening over the past week to myself. Her mother claims I’ve kidnapped her two youngest daughters—claims she has taken to the cops for some reason. They’re not going to do anything about it. The cops here have been under the Preston family’s thumb for many years.
The minute Tracey made the allegation, my father was called, and she backed off, especially once they threatened to look further into why her children might have been taken. The cops here know my father is legitimate now, and so am I. For the most part.
There were times I had to get my hands dirty, even at a young age. But those people were all bad. She’s even been popping up at the house, but there’s no way for her to get in. It’s a fucking fortress.
Luckily, my father will be home soon, and my mother has threatened him into taking care of this. Not that I’ll need much of his help. I am fully aware of how far my name alone will get me. So much so, I’ve asked the cops to be on the lookout for her mother just in case. This school is not safe like my home, and Tracey can slip in easily. I don’t trust her, and I certainly don’t want her ruining Cynthia’s night.
As we finally pull up to the castle’s entrance, I scan the area as much as I can through the crowd before opening the door and helping my beauty from the car. I’m not sure why, but I picture that blue gown being a wedding dress someday. I just hope she’ll be on the same page as me once all this drama blows over.