True to You (A Love Happens Novel Book 3)

by Jodi Watters

  Pointing down the hall, she sidestepped Caroline, walking toward Ash’s office without invitation. “I’m just gonna pop in for a quick hello.”

  “Oh. Well—” Her worried tone didn’t slow Olivia’s stride. “Usually he likes to know who’s coming through the door before they actually do. Fair warning if he snarls. Or reaches for a weapon.”

  After a single knock, she opened his door, finding him and two dark-haired men focused on multiple computer screens, deep in conversation.

  “Liv.” Surprised, he stood, walking around the side of his desk. “Everything okay?” No snarl. No weapon—that she could see.

  “Fine and dandy.” She smiled when the other men stood, observing her with interest.

  Neither looked familiar, but based on their physical attributes, could earn a six-figure living working a part-time gig as male escorts. Despite the visual feast, it was her handsome, cunt-teasing husband holding her attention.

  “I wanted to stop by and chat about dinner tonight. You’ve been promising me some prime beef, and today I’m so hungry I could eat a porterhouse.”

  “Ma’am.” Vibrant green eyes greeted her, reaching out a large hand. “Beckett Smith.”

  “Oh, you’re the Beck part of Hope and Beck, right?” His affirmative grin was endearing.

  Ash’s annoyed grunt was interrupted by a GQ model wearing a charcoal suit minus the jacket, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up. “Sam Gleeson. Glad to finally meet you.” His handshake was firm, but she sensed he tempered it. “You were quite a pleasant surprise around here.” He slanted a keen look Ash’s way. “And a large piece of the puzzle.”

  “Don’t talk about me like I’m not standing right here.”

  Grinning, she tilted her head toward the big man wearing a disgruntled expression. “Do y’all mind if I borrow him for a few minutes?”

  “Hey, he’s the boss.” Beck’s tone was carefree. “That makes you Mrs. Boss.”

  “What’s that make me?” Sam asked, following him out the door. “Chopped liver?”

  “I sleep with his sister,” came Beck’s dry reply. “I have to kiss his ass if I don’t want my bones held together by screws.”

  Closing the door behind them, Olivia locked it, the metal sliding into place with a click.

  Turning, she held up her phone, a magnified shot of Ash’s last text on the screen. I love that you once loved me. I hope you can love me again. “Did you mean this?”

  He sat on the window sill and crossed his arms, as if prepared for a fight. “I wrote it, didn’t I?”

  “Well, I hope you meant it in the literal sense, soldier.” Tossing her phone and purse in the chair, she reached for the zipper on her dress, her movements as lazy as her drawl. “How soundproof are these walls?”

  He swallowed and dropped his arms, bright blue eyes tracking her hands. “Why?”

  “Because I’m about to love all over one particular part of your anatomy.” She shimmied her hips, the fabric sliding down to pool at her feet. Heels still on, she kicked the dress to the side. “Next question. How quiet can you be?”

  Slack-jawed, he rose and took a step toward her, gesturing at the wall of windows behind him. “What are you doing?”

  “Nobody can see me. The sun is too bright.” Standing there, in the middle of his office wearing only a sheer bra that covered almost nothing, a matching thong that covered less than that, and strappy heels that put her four inches closer to his six-and-a-half-foot frame, she pursed her plum-tinted lips. “And even if they could, I don’t care. Let them watch.”

  He eyed her like a snake about to strike. “Watch what?”

  “This,” she whispered, placing her palm on his wide chest and pushing. The element of surprise worked in her favor because he obeyed, dropping back against the sill, his breath suspended as he waited for her next move.

  Dragging her hand down his torso, she slid her fingers under the hem of his black T-shirt, feeling the warm, muscled expanse of his flat belly. A downy soft happy trail dipped below the low-riding waistband of his jeans, her path to paradise. She traced the line an inch into the denim, then back up to his belly button, his abs contracting with each leisurely stroll of her fingertips.

  Down low she’d go, fingers disappearing into his pants, a little farther each time, then up. And down again. Brushing closer and closer to her prize.

  “How quiet can you be?” she repeated.

  His throat moved as he swallowed again, his breath catching each time her fingertips ventured deeper, grazing him. “As quiet as you need me to be.”

  “Good.” She wedged herself between his thighs, their breath mingling as she leaned in, a fraction of space between their mouths. “Because if you make too much noise, I’ll stop. This is a professional working environment, and we’re in here discussing what to make for dinner.”

  She sucked on his bottom lip, shooting him a warning glare when he groaned.

  “We’re definitely not in here getting our groove back.” Fingering the button-fly on his jeans, she tugged hard, the placket opening wide. “With your pants undone, my dress on the floor.” Inhaling his choked gasp, she slid her hand inside, gripping him. “And this fat cock in my mouth.”

  He growled, and not quietly, the sound more animal than human.

  “Shh.” She nipped at his mouth. “I’ll stop if you’re too loud.”

  Pushing the jeans down to free him, she stroked his hard length, measuring him for the first time in four years.

  She’d convinced herself he wasn’t as big as she remembered, that his hefty size was a figment of her imagination, increased by the passage of time and the yearning for otherworldly physical satisfaction only Asher Coleson could provide.

  She was wrong. He was just as her sexually deprived body recalled. Long and thick and strong. Throbbing in the space of a five-second, dry handjob. Poor guy.

  He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her against him in a hard kiss, his tongue sweeping inside, sending tingles down her spine and moisture to her core.

  He released her just as fast. “Liv, we shouldn’t—”

  “Swear to God, Ash,” she cut him off midsentence. “If you even breathe the word mission, I’m gonna hurt you.” She squeezed his erection to prove she could. It only made him harder.

  “You really wanna do this? Here?”

  So much so, she was going for broke, her behavior more brazen than ever. The shock value, along with the scrapped mission, was worth it. Not releasing her grip on him, she slid her other hand into her panties, swiping through wetness only he could inspire.

  Bringing a glistening finger to his mouth, she answered him. “What do you think?”

  Tongue snaking out, he licked her finger clean, eyes blazing fire. “I think I’m still hungry.”

  When he tugged on her panties, she stepped out of reach. “Uh-uh. My game, my rules.” A tap to his chest sent him back to his perch. “I’m in charge.” Unhooking her bra, it dropped to the carpet next to her dress, her nipples hard with arousal. “You can look, but you can’t touch.”

  His grunt was pure alpha, eyes locked on the tight peaks. “I’ll touch if I want. Doesn’t matter what you say.”

  That sexist comment sent a flood to her center, the wetness turning her sheer panties translucent, molding her, exposing her secrets. And his smile turned predatory.

  “Take off your shirt,” she ordered, “but otherwise, do not move.”

  Leaning back against the wide window sill, a spot he seemed to favor, he looked like a jungle cat sunning himself. Appearing harmless, even while stalking his next meal. Doing as his lioness asked, he peeled the shirt off, bunching it in his fist. Keeping his hands occupied as he stared at her breasts, then between her legs.

  Olivia looked her fill, too.

  His chest, ripped with muscle and covered in a smattering of dark hair, heaved in arousal. Six-pack abs guided her down to a full-blown hard-on that brushed his flat stomach and bobbed in her direction, demanding attention.
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  Happy to be of service, she dropped to her knees, cupping him and inhaling.

  He was a man she’d once known like the back of her hand, loving him like he was the only person on earth. He was a man whose actions triggered a tsunami while she’d been clinging to life, desperately trying to survive the precursory earthquake.

  He was a man that, despite the resulting devastation, still owned her, heart and soul.

  Body, too, based on the attraction zinging her nerve-endings. She ran the flat of her tongue from the base of his shaft to the thick tip, swirling over and around, licking away the bead of moisture already collecting. Ash was surprisingly obedient, she’d give him that. His rumbling growl of pleasure was long but low, more vibration than sound.

  Wrapping both hands around him, she worked them in countering circles and took as much of him into her mouth as she could. He hit the back of her throat and she swallowed, the rippling motion massaging him before she drew back, releasing him with an audible pop of suction.

  “Liv—holy hell.”

  Encouraged by his ragged, uneven breathing, she did it again.

  And again. And again.

  Stopping intermittently to nibble and kiss her way down to the soft sack below, she suckled and tugged while her fist still stroked, giving his bubbling release time to simmer, then building it back up again, one deep-throated swallow after another. And another.

  “Wait. Stop—” Exhaling in rapid pants, he made a halfhearted attempt to pull free of her mouth. “Darlin’, stop. I’ve been without you too long.” A flush rode high on his cheekbones. “I’m gonna go off before I can control where. I’m too close.”

  “I’m in control of where.” Locking eyes, she opened her mouth wide, tapping the plump head of his erection against her tongue.

  A distinctly feral growl escaped him, drawn from somewhere deep in his belly, his head falling back on his shoulders.

  “Quiet,” she warned, her fist tightening around him. “We’re debating steak or chicken, remember?”

  He choked out a garbled laugh, white-knuckling the window sill, hips thrusting in time with her movements. He let her control the pace, the depth, the suction, but his rare docility was wavering.

  “I’m… Are you sure? You don’t—I mean, I want… but you don’t have—”

  She spoke around the cock in her mouth. “I’m sure. Now shut up.”

  More sure than ever, she didn’t let up. Not when he grew impossibly harder in her mouth. Not when his choppy breathing rose in volume, remaining inside the walls of his office, but barely. Not when he cupped the back of her head, just short of rough as he held her to him.

  Not when his renowned control vanished, a long, low growl escaping him as he came heavily, releasing exactly where she’d told him to. Several seconds passed while he jerked and groaned, loosening then tightening his hold on her hair, riding out a high-intensity orgasm he’d made them both wait weeks for.

  Olivia didn’t come, but his stinging pull on her hair and display of raw, uninhibited pleasure almost sent her over the edge.

  Dabbing at the corners of her mouth, plum lipstick long gone, she smiled at her handy work. Eyes glazed a smoky blue, he stared at her, body slack with satisfaction as she rose to her feet. He watched with hooded lids as she grabbed tissues from the box on his desk, blotting the dripping moisture between her thighs. The unsatisfied throb in her core would be a nuisance the rest of the day, but she had a plan for that, too.

  His shrewd gaze tracked her as she dressed, not moving a muscle, and once done, she approached him with care. It was a mistake to assume Ash wasn’t dangerous. One second he could appear aloof, the next he could throw her over his desk and be eight inches deep before her brain registered the threat.

  “I’ll meet you in our bed in—” She checked her watch. “—three hours.” Cupping the back of his head, she kissed his stubbled cheek. “Don’t be late, or I’ll start without you.”

  It wasn’t ten minutes later when her phone beeped another text notification, his message coming through just as she pulled out of the parking lot.

  4:02 p.m. Reason one million and one. When I tell you I’m gonna come… and you suck harder.

  Nothing said, Okay, I think I might possibly still love you, better than a blowjob in the middle of the afternoon.

  And like the click of a light switch, Ash went from needing to get to know her again, to needing to get inside any slick opening her body possessed. Olivia wasn’t complaining. Her hair flip slash blowjob plan took a few weeks to implement, but it was working like a charm.

  Home only an hour, she was showered and in her lounging clothes, hair in a ponytail and steaks ready for the grill, when he stalked through the door. Eyes crazed, he pushed her up against the nearest vertical surface without so much as a how-do-you-do, swallowing her delighted yelp of surprise.

  His hand flexed against the tender flesh of her neck, holding her in place for his urgent, all-consuming kiss. A sizzling jolt of fear danced down her spine, though it wasn’t his immense size and strength she was afraid of. Ash would never hurt her physically. And despite the fierce way his mouth took hers, needy and demanding, the kiss wasn’t violent. It was primal. Instinctual. Claim-staking.

  And that was what Olivia feared. Feared and craved.

  “You poked the bear, darlin’.” His rough voice rumbled against her lips, heavy-grit sandpaper scraping over her heightened senses. She shivered with it.

  “And it was so much fun.” She nipped at him. “I think I like you submissive.”

  “Don’t get used to it.” His body pressed her into the wall, and he sucked that sensitive spot just below her ear. “Do you know how much I want you? Can you tell how badly I need to be inside you right now? Right fucking now?”

  He pulled his T-shirt off for the second time that afternoon, yanking his button-fly open and releasing himself from the denim.

  Smiling, she licked her lips. “Hard to miss that.”

  She snagged her fingers through the loops in his jeans and tugged, dragging them down to midthigh. Hungry mouths melded, their hands tangling as they rushed to remove all clothing within arm’s reach. Hopping, he tugged his boots off while somehow still maintaining tongue contact, sliding her shirt and bra off seconds later.

  The man was Houdini when it came to getting naked. Clothes just disappeared.

  “Livvy.” Breathing labored, he cupped her neck again, fueling her arousal. “Tell me you want me again. Tell me you need me again.”

  Later, she’d wonder if he was talking about sex or life in general.

  For now, it was sex.

  “Mmm, I want you so much, I had to clean myself off with Scorpio-owned Kleenex. I want you too much.” She dragged his hand down her stomach, sliding it past the band of her lounge pants and into her panties, the only pieces of clothing still on either of their bodies. His callused fingers slid through drenched folds. “That much.”

  “I want you to taste yourself from my fingers.” His wicked command slithered over her nerve endings, erasing inhibition.

  Moaning, Olivia grazed along his bristled jaw with her teeth. “I’d rather taste myself from your tongue—eeek!”

  Her feet off the floor, she squealed as he tossed her onto the sofa, peeling her pants and undies off and following her down in one fluid motion. “Done.”

  “Wow!” Dizzy, she cupped his face. “That was a crazy smooth move. You’re like a sex ninja.” She giggled, caught up in the moment. “Do a naked backflip for me? Maybe a few karate kicks? Please? I promise no photographs.”

  “There it is.” Eyes lit from within, his whisper was reverent. “That’s the laugh I love so much. That I live to hear.” His kiss was gentle, eyes never closing, gaze unwavering. “I live for it, Olivia. I’d die for it.”

  His words were veritable poetry, and she rolled her lips, uncertainty bringing tears.

  “What?” His breath was warm. “What are you thinking?”

  That I made a big mistake.


  That I never should have left you.

  That I never stopped loving you.

  “That I don’t want to think anymore. I just want to feel.” Wrapping her bare legs around him, she cradled his hardness between her thighs, hips bucking in invitation. “I need to feel you inside me. Now.”

  He groaned, his fingers testing her slippery passage before he flexed his hips, his erection nudging her entrance. “Tell me I’m not dreaming. Tell me I’m really holding you.”

  His hips surged and she panicked, pulling her lower body away before his steely hardness pushed past her natural resistance. “Wait. We need birth control.”

  “What?” He froze. “Why?”

  “Why?” Mouth gaping, her gaze bored into his. “How can you ask me that?”

  “Aw, Livvy.” Dropping his forehead to hers, a millimeter from connecting them body and soul, he soothed her. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. Let’s try again.”

  “I don’t need your pity, Ash. I’m not sad. I’m horny.” And pissed at his insensitivity. “But we need a condom first.”

  “Don’t look at me,” he finally said, with a confused head shake.

  “You’re joking, right?” If he was, it wasn’t funny. She had a solid eight inches of paradise at the ready and impatience was her middle name.

  Perplexed, he stared her. “I don’t have any.”

  She couldn’t hide her surprise. “Not even in the duffel you use for travel?”

  In the blink of an eye, he went icy cold.

  “No, I don’t have condoms,” he fired back, shooting up to pace the room. “I’m a married man. Why the fuck would I have condoms? We never needed them. We didn’t use them.”

  “Well…” Her voice waned, not sure of a tactful way to say it.

  He stopped pacing to glare. “You think I cheated on you, don’t you? Is that why you want me to wear a rubber? News flash, Mrs. Coleson. You can’t get an STD from fucking yourself, and that’s all I’ve been doing since you left me.”

  “You left me.” Sitting up, she covered herself with a chenille throw. “And I’m afraid to have unprotected sex after… after her. I can’t take a chance.”