by Sabrina York
Ash had been super careful after that. Always carrying a condom with him. Never forgetting to use protection—
His scrubbing slowed as a memory flashed in his brain. Slipping into Emily. How slick she’d been. How wet. How intense.
Fuck it all to hell. No wonder it had been so fucking incredible.
Goddamn it.
He had.
This morning he’d been so crazed by her scent, her moans and the rake of her nails over his scalp as he ate her out, he’d completely forgotten to use a condom.
He threw the sponge into the bucket. It sloshed over the carpet. How could he have been so stupid? It was her fault. She had to be so damn pretty, with that soft, low voice, those wide tempting eyes. She had to drive a man crazy with lust until he covered her and shoved it in without a thought to the consequences.
Dumb.
Dumb, dumb, dumb.
If nothing else convinced him she was, in fact, one dangerous woman, that should.
He’d made the right decision.
Yeah. He had to steer clear of Emily—
His breath caught as he searched for her last name.
Well fuck. He didn’t know it.
Fine.
That was just fine.
He didn’t want to know it.
He didn’t.
“God, it stinks in here,” Parker muttered through a sleep-roughened voice as he padded down the stairs. “What the hell happened?”
Ash sighed and gestured toward Richie, who snuffled and grunted and blubbered in his sleep.
“Jesus.” Parker grimaced and headed for the kitchen, finding another pair of gloves under the sink. He pitched in, which was awesome, because Ash was getting nauseous. Together, they finished the job pretty quickly, tossed the paper towels and the sponges into a trash bag and put it out on the back deck. “He was pretty loaded last night.”
“He’s pretty loaded every night.” Ash led the way back to the kitchen and they washed their hands in the sink. Several times. Then he pushed the button to start the coffee pot. The grinder kicked into gear with a loud wail. On the sofa, Richie lurched up and gazed around the room with bleary eyes.
“Where did you disappear to last night?” Parker asked, getting two matching mugs from the cupboard.
Ash shot him a look. “Nowhere.”
“He went out on the Jet Ski,” Richie said, shuffling into the kitchen, scratching his pits and yawning. He wore a t-shirt and shorts speckled with not-so mysterious stains. The clothes clung to his body, damp with sweat. “I heard it start up when I was taking a piss.” He waggled a finger at Ash. “Did you find a chickie?”
“Go take a shower, Richie. You reek.”
Richie’s nose curled. “This whole place reeks.” Ash and Parker exchanged a glance. “Was it that hot redhead? Or the honey with the ponytail? The one with the bangs was cute too.”
“Shut up Richie.” Ash’s pulse throbbed painfully in his temple.
“Which one did you bang?”
Acid curled in his gut. “Shut up, Richie.” Richie was a bonafide asshole sometimes.
Parker stepped between them, which was hardly necessary. It wasn’t as though Ash was going to pound Richie’s nose in. Much. “Come on, Richie. You know Ash doesn’t kiss and tell.”
Richie glowered at him, and then the tension dissolved as he barked a laugh. “No. He never does. Doesn’t fuck and tell, either. Which sucks. Because it would help to know.”
“Know what?” A growl.
“Which one is easy.”
Easy? Easy?
Easy was reaching around Parker and slamming his fist into Richie’s smug face.
It was also gratifying.
Chapter Seven
Emily had stripped off her clothes, dropping them onto a pile on the floor, and changed into her bathing suit and cover up when the soft knock came at the door. She kicked her overalls aside and padded across the room. She’d never wear that outfit again. The blouse was missing all of its buttons for one thing, and for another, everything smelled like him.
She opened the door and peered through the crack at Kaitlin. Her heart wobbled. Somehow Kaitlin always knew when Emily needed a friend.
“Are you okay?” she asked in a soft voice.
“Is she?” Bella popped her head around Kaitlin’s shoulder. Great. Bella was there as well. “Is she all right?”
“Is she?”
Really? Jamie too?
“Is everyone up here?” Emily asked on a sigh.
“No.”
“Thank God.”
“Cam and Kristi are asleep, and Tara is distracting Drew and Holt.” Bella grinned.
Emily frowned. “Drew and Holt are not coming up here.” That was the last thing she needed right now.
“They’re making bacon,” Kaitlin said in a soothing voice. As though she sensed Emily’s flaring panic. “Can we come in?”
“They’re making bacon?”
“For you.” Jamie pushed around Kaitlin and into the room.
Emily stepped back and let them all in. As though she had a choice. “Why are they making bacon for me?”
“Drew feels bad about yelling,” Kaitlin said.
At the same time, Bella quipped, “Because they want to lure you back downstairs and get the details of…” she trailed off and glanced around at all the glares. “What? It’s true.”
“Shut up Bella,” Jamie snapped. “We’re supposed to be calming her down.”
Kaitlin shot Emily an apologetic look. “I should have come alone.”
“I’m fine. Honestly. You can all go back downstairs and—”
Bella sidled up to Emily and sniffed her. Sniffed her. “Why do you smell like maple syrup?”
“I-I d-don’t.”
“You do.” Bella waved at the others. “Come over here. Smell her.”
Kaitlin crossed her arms. “I’m not smelling anyone. Leave her alone Bella.”
“I’m telling you. She smells like syrup.”
“Stop it. You’re making her cry.” Jamie wrapped an arm around Emily’s shoulder and, to her horror, she realized she was, indeed, leaking tears.
“I-I’m not crying.”
“What’s that on your cheeks? Aunt Jemima?”
“Bella.” A warning growl from Kaitlin. This caught Bella’s attention, because Kaitlin hardly ever growled. “I think you should both go,” she said. “Emily and I need to have a talk.”
Bella put out a lip.
“I didn’t make her cry,” Jamie protested.
But Kaitlin was adamant. She thrust a slender finger at the door. “Go.”
“All right,” Bella huffed. “We’ll be just outside in the hall if you need us.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Kaitlin said, closing the door. She crossed to the bed and sat, patting the spot beside her. “I told them I needed to come alone but they wouldn’t listen.”
“Because they wanted to grill me.”
Kaitlin’s bow-shaped mouth tweaked up. “A little. But they also care about you. A lot.” She cocked her head to the side in that funny way she had and studied Emily, her eyes slightly unfocused. “Something happened. Do you want to talk about it?”
Emily sat on the bed with a huff. “It must be nice to be psychic.”
Kaitlin snorted a laugh. “I didn’t need psychic powers to tell you were upset downstairs.”
“Really?”
She smiled and smoothed a red curl behind her ear. “You yelled at Drew and smacked Holt.”
“I did not smack Holt.”
“You smacked his hand. When he pointed his finger at you.”
“He shouldn’t have pointed at me. That was rude.”
“Yes. It was.” Kaitlin bit back a grin. “And you had every right to smack him. But it was out of character. Also, your aura was all…swirly.”
“Swirly?” Emily blinked. “What does that mean? When your aura is swirly?”
Kaitlin fixed her with a steady gaze. “Why don’t you tell me?�
��
“I-I don’t know where to start.”
“Start at the beginning.”
“The part with the dinosaurs?” A pathetic attempt at humor.
Kaitlin was gracious enough to chuckle. “Go back as far as you like.”
Emily sighed. “I went for a walk last night, to check out the tide pools and I met him.”
“Ash?”
“Mmm hmm.” Emily folded her hands in her lap and stared at them as she spoke, anywhere but at Kaitlin’s too-knowing eyes. “He invited me for a ride on his Jet Ski. We went to the island and the engine conked out and we had to stay the night in the cabin.” She glanced at Kaitlin, who blinked.
“I heard that part already. Why did you talk to him? We had a pact. To avoid those guys like the plague.”
“I didn’t seek him out. He talked to me first. It was only polite to respond.”
Kaitlin tsked. ”Your manners are going to bite you in the butt some day.”
“Why are you looking at me that way?” Emily knew that look.
“I’m sensing…”
“What?”
“Something different about you. Something…” She shook her head. “I can’t put my finger on it.”
Emily tipped her chin. She didn’t want Kaitlin putting her psychic fingers all over her secrets.
“So he talked to you and you responded because it was polite…”
“And because I liked him. And he seemed nice. So when he invited me out on his Jet Ski, I went.”
“And you got stranded at the island. And…” Kaitlin froze. Her lips parted. Her cheeks flushed. And Emily knew, just knew, she’d seen the truth. “Oh, Em.”
That was it. Just, “Oh, Em.” And a hug.
It was the hug she needed.
“Are you going to be okay?” Kaitlin murmured into her hair.
“I think so.”
“Was it… Was it all right?” Of all of them, Kaitlin knew her best. Kaitlin knew her secrets and understood why she avoided men. She’d been the one who had burst in, just as Roman had wrenched up her skirt and ripped off her panties and been about to—
Kaitlin had saved her. And afterwards, Kaitlin had soothed her.
Kaitlin had a gift.
Emily patted her arm. “It was wonderful. It was my choice, Kait. My decision. And I enjoyed every minute of it.”
“I’m so glad.”
“But…”
“But…what?”
“I’m not sure what happens now. I kind of got the sense he was withdrawing. You know, when we came back. He didn’t want to talk about it or hang out together or anything.”
She nodded. “Men can be that way. Do you really like him?”
“Yes.”
“Then we need to talk to him. To see where he stands. Do you want to go for a walk?”
“Now?”
“Now.”
“Okay.” And as easily as that, all her rampant emotions settled down. She didn’t have a lot of experience with men, but Kaitlin did. She’d know how to handle this. “Thank you, Kaitlin.”
They hugged again and Kaitlin laughed.
“What?”
“Bella was right,” she said, with a glint in her eye. “You do smell like maple syrup.”
He saw her coming and fought back the urge to leap to his feet and run for the hills. He didn’t know where that cowardice had come from. Usually when he made up his mind to give a woman the cold shoulder, he had no qualms whatsoever. With Emily, it was different.
He disciplined himself to lean back in the deck chair and pretend to drink his beer as though he hadn’t a care in the world. It was a nice day. They’d set up the chairs on the grass in the sun and were diligently getting pleasantly plastered. Despite the fact it wasn’t quite noon.
And why the hell not? It was Saturday. It was summertime. He was a wealthy man with no obligations. No responsibilities. Nothing. Whatsoever.
Might as well be drunk.
“Here comes your redhead,” Richie muttered. Parker lurched up in his chair.
Devlin lifted the brim of his hat to look. “Hoo mama.”
“I can’t believe you tapped that,” Richie snickered. “You get all the hot pieces of ass.”
Parker shot Ash a glare. “You fucked her?”
Ash didn’t respond. It was none of Parker’s business who Ash fucked.
“That blonde is a sweet piece of ass too,” Richie said. Ash bit back a growl as something nasty slithered through him.
“Nice rack,” Devlin said.
Great. He might have to pound both of them into the ground.
Emily and her friend slowed as they reached his yard. She lifted a hand. “Hey Ash.”
Heads whipped around. Parker, Devlin and Richie gaped at him.
“Her?” Richie hissed. “Is she the one?”
Emily winced. Her fingers curled and her hand dropped. She exchanged a glance with her friend, the redhead who looked like she wanted to eviscerate Ash on the spot. Some secret female communication passed between them and the redhead nodded.
“Ash, could we…talk?”
His stomach surged. His pulse pounded. His mouth went dry. “Sure.” He set down his beer and stood. God, he hated confrontations. Especially with women. Like this. With their friends standing guard. And his listening in. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I think you know.”
“Over here?” He gestured toward the trees and she followed him away from the eavesdropping throng. They stood together in the shade of the evergreens. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What did you want to say?”
Her lips worked. Damn, they were pretty lips. He did not allow himself to be inveigled. Or tempted. Or seduced.
Although he did want to kiss her. Maybe more.
He pushed down that inconvenient desire. One time. One time was his rule. Well, in this case, one night. One tryst. One…whatever it had been.
Regret, and something else, swamped him.
He ignored it. He had to be strong. Resolved. Heartless.
That he wanted her so much, craved just another kiss, should be warning enough. This woman was dangerous.
“I was just wondering…” She paused and flicked a glance back at her friend. It made him uncomfortable the way the redhead was watching him. He didn’t know why, but it sent shivers up his spine. “I was just wondering what that was between us.”
“Between us? It was great. Fucking awesome.”
Emily stared at him as though she hadn’t understood his words. An uncomfortable silence swelled. Ash felt compelled to fill it. He clenched his teeth to keep his mouth shut.
“Yes. It was awesome. But what was it? I mean, what was it to you?”
“What are you asking?” Hell. He knew what she was asking. But if she wanted her answer, she should fucking ask the right question.
“Was it just a one night stand?”
Aw, shit. She did. She came right out and asked it. And with a wounded, vulnerable expression that skewered him. He steeled his spine. “Probably.”
“Probably?” She tipped her head to the side, studying him as though she’d never seen him before.
“Yes.”
“Did you take me to that island intending to seduce me there?”
He swallowed. Damn, this was hard. Harder than he’d expected. “Yes.”
“And did the engine really conk out?”
He winced. Guilt scalded him. A red tide rose on his cheeks. Something unpleasant prickled at his nape. “No.”
Her lips parted and a small breath feathered out. As though someone had punched her in the gut.
“D-did you use me, Ash?”
His throat closed up. He couldn’t answer a question like that. No man should ever be expected to.
He was possessed of the sudden urge to defend himself, to tell her his story, explain exactly why he did what he did.
But looking into her eyes, his argument revealed itself for what it was. A weak and self-centered attempt to ju
stify a weak and self-centered existence.
“Did you use me?” she asked again in a soft, low voice.
He couldn’t speak. So he nodded.
She paled. Her jaw tightened. Something about her, her light, perhaps, dimmed. “I see. Well.” She swallowed. “Thank you for telling me the truth. And…thank you for a lovely evening. I did enjoy—” Her voice broke, halfway through the platitude, as though her good grace had simply worn out. “Goodbye,” she said. And she turned and walked away.
He watched her go, feeling oddly like she was taking a piece of him with her.
She passed her friend, and his attention stalled on her. The redhead. Who was watching him. Her face was a mask. When their gazes clashed, something whipped through him. He was certain it was the force of her fury.
But it wasn’t fury he saw on her face.
It was pity.
They walked back to the house without a word, for which Emily would be forever grateful. If Kaitlin had said something stupid like, “Are you okay,” she was certain she would burst into tears.
An odd, empty hollow place opened up in her chest as she replayed their conversation again and again, trying to put the pieces together. But her brain didn’t want to cooperate. Her heart didn’t want to accept the truth.
The beautiful thing she’d thought they’d shared had been nothing but an illusion for her. A game, a conquest, for him.
Kaitlin took her arm when she stumbled over the lip of the yard. She guided Emily to the right, away from the dock where their friends assembled around the boat the guys had brought out. Emily could hear their chattered conversations, their laughter, but as though from a distance. Everything seemed to be at a distance, even her breath.
She stumbled again as they crossed the threshold into the house and again, Kaitlin was there to catch her.
Drew, sitting at the table nibbling on a plate of leftover bacon, glanced up as they entered. As always, his attention snapped to Kaitlin, and Emily was glad for it. She didn’t know if she could handle his scrutiny right now. He broke into a grin, which quickly dimmed when he caught the curt shake of Kaitlin’s head.
Then his attention lit on Emily. She winced at his expression. “What—” he started, but again Kaitlin silenced him with a look. Without a word, she led Emily up the stairs to her room.
She felt like a zombie. Shuffling, empty, brain dead.