Dirty Love & Filthy Lies

by C. Shell

  “Girlfriend?” Gina-Gail Something spats, her tone mocking. “I haven’t heard about any girlfriend and I’m Ashton’s assistant. We’re close,” she purrs, sliding her tongue over her glossed lips. “If there was someone new in his life, I would know about it.”

  I fight to keep myself composed. This bitch is pissing me off. My cheeks heat to a nuclear level as my temper flares. Did I misunderstand Ashton the other night? I shake in my head in denial, knowing that I’m right. Ashton said it himself. He was the one who slapped a label on us, not the other way around.

  With newfound confidence, I straighten my shoulders and grit my teeth. “Maybe he didn’t tell you because it isn’t any of your business.”

  I offer the bitch a cool smile. I’m not some side-piece Ashton is messing around with. Deep in my soul, I know we’re more than that and I won’t have her disrespecting me. With that knowledge, I press on. “Do us both a favor and tell Ashton that I’m here.”

  His assistant snorts out a laugh. “It’s your funeral,” she says in a snippy tone. Retching the phone from the desk, she stabs at a button then holds my gaze while speaking into the receiver. “Sorry to bother you, Boss Man. Some young girl just walked in here off the streets claiming to be your girlfriend. I can have Damon throw her out on her ass if you like.”

  I can’t hear Ashton’s response, but I watch with amusement as her eyes widen and her cheeks turn a rosy pink. I smile like the cat that got the cream. Her eyes dart away, and she turns around, giving me her back as if that will keep me from hearing any more.

  There is a long pause before I she speaks. “I understand. I’m sorry. You never mentioned her. I wish you had told me.” She makes a soft sound with her nose. “Would you like me to have her wait out here until you’re done?”

  A beat later, she hangs up the phone and turns back around. Her eyes flare with wicked intent. Her mask is off, and I no longer find her pretty. She’s downright scary. Her glossy lips have thinned to nothing but a slash across her face. I smile, seeing the tick in her jaw that wasn’t there before. Envy is not a good look on her. I could try to be nice, but I don’t think it will help. She’s already decided that I’m the enemy and there isn’t any going back from that.

  I’m glad I’m not the jealous type. Knowing that she is hung up on my man and spends a lot of time with him every day amplifies the danger she could pose.

  But like I said, I’m not jealous.

  Not even a smidgen.

  Okay, maybe a tiny part of me hates how attractive her eyes are, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

  She shifts on her feet, her gaze landing everywhere but on me. This would be a great time for her to apologize for being so rude. I wait for her to say something nice, but it never comes. All I get is a sneer and a flare of her nostrils.

  Message Received. She and I won’t be painting each other nails or gossiping about boys together anytime soon. I shift on my feet, waiting to see how this all plays out.

  With a huff, she spins on her feels and starts walking. “Follow me,” she snaps, her voice like a whip.

  I’m practically jogging to keep up with her fast pace. We pass by several closed doors before coming to the same room that Ashton was using when I got my tattoo. “Boss Man is in there. The equipment is all sterilized so don’t go and put your dirty hands on anything,” she warns before spinning around and heading back the way we came.

  “Nice meeting you too,” I call out, chuckling at her fast retreat.

  Laughter greets me as I enter Ashton’s room. Sitting in the big leather chair is a muscular man with deep wrinkles, greying long hair, and colorful art covering almost every inch of his exposed tan skin. Ashton is hunched over the man’s arm working on a new piece. I rap on the door with my knuckles to get his attention. His head lifts, and he stares at me in that captivating way that always makes me flush. I’m taken aback by how ruggedly handsome he looks today in ripped jeans, a dark flannel shirt and laced up black boots. It takes all my restraint to keep from drooling over his gorgeous body.

  “Hey there sexy,” he says, flashing me a big smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

  My eyes cut to the older man lounging in his chair and I wonder if I made a mistake by showing up unannounced. Ashton doesn’t seem irritated, but that could an act for the customer in his chair. I don’t want to appear clingy and now that I’m standing here, I’m afraid I’ve overstepped and done just that. Damn it!

  I hesitate and gnaw on my body lip as I contemplate what to do. “I was in the neighborhood,” I lie. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I can come back later when you’re not so busy.”

  Ashton shakes his head, his lips pulling into a knowing smirk. “You’re not going anywhere. Get your ass in here and take a seat. I’m glad you’re here and I doubt old Gus here minds the company. He’s never been one to turn down a pretty face.”

  Gus turns and gives me a big toothy grin. “He’s not lying. I once signed up for a year supply of tampons because I liked the girl selling them. I was hoping to get her number. The only thing I got was a new box of super-absorbent tampons delivered to my house every month like clockwork.”

  I bite back a smile, dumbfounded by the thought of this rough-looking man ordering tampons like a pro. My lips quirk upward, despite trying to smother the smile. “Point taken,” I laugh. I’m dying to ask him what he ended up doing with all the tampons, but I don’t too afraid the answer might haunt me.

  Shaking the haze from my brain, I refocus on Ashton as I slip into the chair opposite him. He gives me a scorching look that sends shivers all over my body. His voice is a balm to my frayed nerves when he speaks. “And to what do I owe this visit?”

  I release an audible sigh and shrug my shoulders. Gus is watching us with eager eyes. This is not the right time to bare my soul and tell him about my deal with Conner. Timing is everything. Smiling, I give him a simpler truth. “I was out enjoying the nice weather and was missing you. Thought I would pop in and get my daily Ashton fix.”

  Ashton stares deep into my eyes, his own darkening to a brilliant shade of aged whiskey. Butterflies occupy my chest. If it weren’t for Gus sitting between the two of us smiling like a fool, I would be up and across the room, on my knees with his cock in my mouth, showing Ashton just how much he means to me.

  Ashton never stops looking at me, and we share a moment. It’s brief, but it’s meaningful. No words are exchanged, but then again, they don’t need to be. Gus snickers and the spell breaks. Clearing his throat, Ashton moves around in the chair, trying and failing miserably to hide the bulge tenting his jeans.

  Gus cranks out a laugh, his big belly jiggling with the effort. “Ashton, you need more eye candy like this one around here. I’m almost out of skin to ink, but I’d come up with a reason to return if I knew you had nice things like her to look at instead of your ugly mug.”

  An amused grin tips up the corners of Ashton’s mouth. “I’m not hiring any eye candy,” he snorts. “I’d never get you out of here if I did. My mug might not be to your liking, but my tattooing sure as fuck is,” he says with pure confidence. Cocking his head to the side, he dips his needle into the black ink and maneuvering Gus’s arm into a better position.

  My mind churns as I study Ashton and Gus. I don’t understand their history, but I’m enjoying their easy banter. I still have met none of Ashton’s friends, and now I’m even more eager to do so.

  They fill the next hour with the buzz from the tattoo gun. Gus is a lot of fun and keeps me laughing with flavorful stories of when he was a dancer. I’m not talking about the tango or the two-step variety either. Old Gus used to be a stripper back when he was in his early teens. I didn’t believe it until he pulled out photos for proof. His stage name was Golden Boy.

  It blows my mind.

  Lounging back in my chair, I take a sip from my water bottle before pelting him with another question. “If you don’t mind me asking, what made you want to be a stripper?”

  Ashton snorts,
glancing up at me with mirth in his eyes as he finishes wrapping up Gus’s new tattoo. I know I sound nosey, but my curiosity is getting the best of me. Gus has enough cross tats on him to make a priest jealous. He’s gruff but friendly. A big old Teddy Bear of sorts. Gus strikes me as a patron in a strip club, not the one on stage taking it all off.

  His bright blues crinkle with humor. “I was a hellcat back in my day. My parents were poor, and my upbringing was less than wholesome,” he explains with a heavy sigh. “I was working in a piss hole of a bar one night when a woman slipped me her card. Turns out she owned the male strip club a town over. I was nervous to work there at first, but after seeing the money I could bring in; I took a leap of faith. It took a full year, but I finally earned enough tips to put myself through college.”

  “That’s amazing,” I laugh. “You’ve made my day, Gus. I needed that.”

  “Which part surprises you the most?” His lips form a mischievous smile. “That I made it through college or that I paid for it all by baring my ass and shaking it like a rattle?”

  “Enough,” Ashton pleads, looking truly horrified. “The image of your bare ass will haunt me forever.”

  Ashton’s discomfort only makes me laugh harder.

  He and Gus finish up their business and when Gus bids me farewell, I find myself sorry to see him go. “He was a welcome surprise,” I say, meaning every word.

  “He’s a good guy. Been coming around here since the day I opened shop.” Spinning my chair around, Ashton pins me with a heated look that makes my thighs rub together in want.

  “Enough about old Gus. I have a few hours before my next appointment. Want to get out of here?”

  Ashton’s voice is full of dirty promises. I perk up, liking the thought of a few stolen hours of sweaty bliss. I jump out of my chair, not needing to be asked twice. Alone time with a sexy man -this sexy man to be exact- is the perfect cure to anything that ails you. I start for the door but get sidetracked when strong arms pull me in for a hug. His mouth lands just below my ear, igniting a succession of sparks through my body.

  I shiver in his embrace. “I love that you missed me,” he growls, his breath hot on my neck. “I love even more that you didn’t hold back and told me.”

  “And what about you?” I ask. It’s a leading question, but one I’m curious to know the answer to. Most men would lie and tell me what I want to hear, but not Ashton. Good or bad, he doesn’t hide from the truth. “Did you miss me?”

  His hand cradles my ass, urging me closer until I can feel the outline of his hardened cock pressing against me. Ashton’s mouth nips at my earlobe as he whispers, “Every minute of every day. I can’t ever get enough of you.” As if to prove his point, he rolls his hips, grinding his erection on me until my core throbs with need. My panties are soaked through.

  Pulling back, his mouth falls to mine, and the world and all my problems crumble away. I hold on for dear life, my hands fisting in his shirt, as his tongue slides against mine, bringing goosebumps to my skin and robbing me of my senses.

  The desire between us is all-consuming, melding us together until the ache in my core matches the pounding beat of my pulse. A deep rumble emits from his chest, and I gasp into his mouth. Pressing me up against the wall, his body blankets mine, his cock rubs me right where I need him. We lose track of time until a knock at the door steals our attention.

  I blink away my orgasmic haze to see Ashton’s receptionist/personal assistant standing in the doorway. A look of disgust mars her pretty features as she takes in our crumpled appearances. Ashton retracts his hand from inside my shirt, steps back and gives her a palpable smile.

  “Can I help you with something, Glenna?”

  Glenna. I knew her name started with the letter G.

  I mentally high-five myself. I was so close, although she really doesn’t strike me as a Glenna. I used to have a friend in kindergarten named Glenna. She was awesome.

  This girl is better suited to be a Gina.

  A pained look washes over her face. If she hadn’t been such a bitch earlier, I would feel sorry for her. But she was, and I don’t. After a long moment of awkward silence, she finally responds with a shaky voice. “I came to sanitize your room. I’m ordering a sandwich from the Sub Shop and thought you might like something to eat before your next appointment.”

  “No need,” he tells her. “We were just leaving. Set up the station for Davis’s dragon tattoo when you’re done with lunch. I’ll be back later. If anything comes up, I’ll have my phone on me.”

  If Glenna could kill me with looks alone, I would be dead and rotting six feet under right now. I can’t tell if she hates me on principle alone or if she has a thing for my man. I’d put money it was the latter. Whatever the reason, I decide it’s not important. Ashton is mine for the time being and her shitty attitude won’t change that.

  With a genuine pout, she nudges her way past Ashton, her eyes latching on mine as her boobs accidentally rub against Ashton’s arm. Either Ashton is clueless or a great actor, because ignores her blatant flirtation and takes a step back, his hand falling to the small of my back as he tries to usher me toward the door.

  I’m done pussyfooting around. Glenna needs to know her place, and I’m prepared to do just that.

  Turning in his arms, I press up against Ashton. “Let’s go to your place. Mine’s too far and I don’t want to waste our time together driving.” Leaning forward, I press a kiss against his jaw. “I’m dying to feel you inside me again,” I say just loud enough that I know she will hear.

  “Fuck,” he groans. “My trucks out front. We’ll take it.” With a featherlight touch, his finger traces over the tattoo he gave me. “The sooner I get you back in my bed, the better. I plan on marking you all over again, but this time with my mouth. It’ll be just as personal and permanent as the ink on your skin.”

  Holy Fuck. My blood is on fire.

  The sound of glass shattering has Ashton and I both swiveling around. My mouth drops open in shock. Glenna is standing next to Ashton’s drawing table with her hands balled into fists and her face flushed with anger. On the ground next to her feet is one of Ashton’s trophies, something he won for taking first place in a tattooing competition last year. During one of our nightly chat sessions, he told me all about it. His voice dripped with pride when he described the event and how many talented people competed against before winning.

  The glass trophy is splintered into hundreds of pieces all over the floor. “Oh my God, Ashton. I’m so sorry,” she says, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. “It slipped from my hands. I didn’t mean to drop it,” she lies.

  The tick in his jaw says he wants to throttle her. I do too, but not for the same reasons. “Clean this shit up by the time I get back,” he barks. “Stick to your job and stop touching my personal things.”

  Glenna offers no protest. “Yes, Sir. Of course. Your room will be as good as new when you get back.” She sniffles, her lip quivering as she looks at him with large doe eyes. She reeks of desperation, and I hate her a little more for it. “I’m so sorry, Boss Man. I promise to do better.”

  With a low growl of frustration, Ashton grips my arm and then we’re headed down the hall, his heavy footfalls garnering attention as we make our escape. Not that I care, I couldn’t be happier. I’m exactly where I want to be.

  Chapter Twenty

  Samuel Johnson once said, “Hell is paved with good intentions.”

  I’m in my own personal hell and I have no one to blame but myself. I chickened out when it came to telling Ashton about my upcoming dinner date with Conner. I had the chance when we were alone at his house, then again later in the week when we watched movies in my room. I could say that the timing was never right, but that would be a lie.

  Almost every night we talk on the phone for hours on end and not once did I open my big mouth and confide in him. I started too many times, then I break out in a cold sweat, imagine his face twisted in hate toward me, and change the subject at the last minut
e. I can’t imagine any man wanting to get tangled up with a girl whose ex is still lurking in the shadows, pulling stings like some goddamn puppet master.

  I kept telling myself I had time. No reason to rock the boat when things are going so right.

  And then Karma came and kicked me right in the teeth. Karma is such a nasty bitch.

  Ashton came over last night to help me fix my busted closet door. It took some time and a lot of swearing, but we finally got it functioning correctly. As I was walking him back to his truck, we ran into Conner. Lord knows what he was doing at my dorm, but none of that matters, because the jackass wasted no time reminding me, he would be by to pick me up at six o’clock sharp the Friday night. And as if that wasn’t damming enough, he went on and suggested that I wear the silk plum dress his mother bought me last Christmas because that would make her happy.

  As if I give a fuck about making that bitch smile.

  I stood there sucking in air and wishing for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I couldn’t fucking move.

  One look at Ashton’s face confirmed my worst nightmare. Conner’s words had hit their intended target. Tension swirled in the air as Conner sauntered off, no doubt congratulating himself on a job well done. Fucker.

  Ashton stared at me as if I were a stranger. It gutted me. My words tumbled over themselves as I tried explaining everything, but it’s late. I messed up. Ashton is furious and refuses to hear my feeble excuses. He left soon after that. Storming off like a Viking heading off to war. I begged him to stay, but he said he was going to the gym to blow off some steam.

  There’s a mountain of distrust between us now, and it’s all my fault.

  I did this.

  Not intentionally. But that doesn’t matter, the result is still the same.