Ruined

by Jackie Ashenden

  ‘I’m not going to let you push me away.’ I moved my thumbs back and forth over her hips, stroking her, keeping up that physical contact. ‘Not any more. This is how it’s going to be—starting tomorrow. You and me. Together.’

  A lock of silky black hair fell over her face, hiding her expression as she looked down at her feet. ‘I thought... I thought all this was supposed to be pretend.’

  ‘It was supposed to be.’ I didn’t want to hide the truth from her—not now that we’d crossed the line. ‘Then I changed my mind.’

  ‘Why?’ She still wouldn’t look at me. ‘Since when did things change?’

  I looked down at the light glossing her black hair, at her lashes dark against her cheeks like splashes of black ink. Christ, I was turning into a fucking poet.

  ‘They never changed. Not for me. I’ve always wanted you, kitten. Always.’

  Her head came up sharply, her eyes wide, the look in them shocked as hell. ‘What? But...’ She blinked, the shock giving way to confusion. ‘Really? You never said anything... I mean, I never got the impression that...’ She stopped. ‘Seriously, Smoke?’

  But I was done for the night, and I suspected so was she. We could have all this out in the morning, when the shock had worn off.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ I said shortly. ‘We’ll talk about this tomorrow.’

  A spark of green temper flared in her gaze. ‘In between all the fucking, you mean?’

  She was such brat... Jesus Christ.

  I lifted my hand, took her little chin in between my thumb and forefinger, holding her still. ‘Maybe.’ I kept my voice quiet. ‘But only if you’re a very good girl and do exactly as you’re told.’

  She snorted, like she was still my friend and we were kidding around with each other. But it was time she stopped thinking that shit, so I bent my head and kissed her hard, pushing my tongue into her hot mouth, silencing her.

  A tremble shook her and she made a soft, desperate noise. Then she tipped her head back further, letting me kiss her deeper, her tongue meeting mine and sliding along it. It was a taste and a tease and a taunt all in one. Her hands were pressed against my chest, there was the scent of musk and Cat filling my senses, and suddenly I didn’t want to wait till morning. I wanted her again—right the fuck now.

  But she’d been leading me around by my dick for years and I was sick of it. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t known I wanted her. I didn’t give a fuck how unfair or otherwise that was. I was the one in charge from now on and that was how it would stay.

  I lifted my head, ignoring her soft moan of protest, and with my stupid fucking cock aching like it hadn’t been inside her only an hour ago, I stepped back and away from her. ‘Time for bed, kitten.’

  An expression I couldn’t read flashed over her face, then it was gone. She lifted a shoulder like she didn’t give a shit—which made her a damn liar, considering her cheeks were flushed and her mouth looked full and swollen.

  ‘I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket,’ she muttered, and turned away, heading out of the lounge.

  A minute or two later she was back, a pillow in one hand, a blanket in the other, and going over to the couch, making a production of putting the pillow down and laying the blanket out flat.

  Once she’d finished she made an awkward gesture towards the couch. ‘There. It’s done.’

  A silence fell and I let it hang, because I was being a prick and enjoying the way the tension between us made her blush even more. Another sign that our friendship really was dead and gone.

  Maybe I should have felt regret about that, but I didn’t. Our friendship had been built on lies anyway—or at least for me it had been. The lie that I didn’t want to make her mine in every way that counted.

  Yeah, I was risking everything on this. But, then again, how much of a risk could it truly be? I wasn’t going to let her go. Not now. Not ever.

  Pushing my hands into my pockets, I met her gaze. ‘Goodnight, Cat.’

  She held it. ‘Goodnight, Dane.’

  Then she turned around and walked out.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Cat

  I DIDN’T SLEEP all night. I was exhausted, yet my body was buzzing and my mind wouldn’t stop replaying what had happened with Smoke over and over.

  I shut my eyes, willing the images away, but they wouldn’t go.

  My body ached, my pussy was throbbing, my nipples were in hard, tight points. Pressing against the tank top I’d pulled on to sleep in.

  ‘Fucking, Cat. You and I will be fucking.’

  I turned my head into the pillow, trying and failing to find a cool spot, my skin feeling like it was on fire.

  Crazy. I’d gone all these years without being attracted to Smoke, yet now I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about tomorrow, about what we were going to do together.

  It terrified me.

  Shit, if the sex had been bad, we might have been able to put it behind us, carried on as normal. But the sex hadn’t been bad. It had been...incredible. And there was no way we could put that behind us—no way in hell.

  It was going to change things and they would never be the same again.

  I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. No, I wasn’t going to fucking cry about it. I wasn’t.

  ‘I’ve always wanted you, kitten.’

  Oh, God, that look in his dark gaze. The one that went straight through me, that pinned me to the ground with a truth so sharp and so obvious I was amazed I hadn’t seen it before.

  Or maybe I simply hadn’t wanted to look.

  He’d wanted me all that time and it made me so shit-scared I could hardly breathe. He had to stay a friend—I needed him to stay a friend. Because anything more—like love—that was bullshit. It was all bullshit. Love was a lie, and in the end it always, always let you down.

  Love had deserted my mom in the end, and in the end it had made her desert me.

  And love always hurt—like Justin hurt me.

  Relationships sucked and I didn’t want one. But friendship—that was strong. That was true.

  Friends never let you down—like Smoke had never let me down—and that was what I wanted. What I needed.

  Except Smoke clearly had other ideas.

  I was fucked. Literally.

  I flung an arm across my hot face, trying to settle, but the memory of how I’d knelt before him and taken his dick into my mouth grabbed me, and this time I let myself fall into it, feeling the power of it...

  Somewhere in the middle I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew I felt something hot lying across my face. In fact I felt hot all over.

  I opened my eyes to find the sun streaming through a crack in the curtains and fully over my bed, in a way it never did when I woke at 6:00 a.m.

  I groaned and turned to look at the clock.

  Holy shit—it was nine. What about Annie? What about school? I’d never slept in like this before. Never.

  Cursing, I hauled myself out of bed and flung open the door, stumbling down the hallway to Annie’s bedroom only to find it empty. Oh, God, where was she?

  I went back along the hall and into the lounge, trying not to feel frantic about the heavy silence that lay over the apartment. The living area was empty, too; the blanket Smoke had slept in was folded neatly on the end of the couch.

  On the coffee table was a piece of paper with some writing on it.

  I snatched it up.

  Took Annie to school and you’ve called in sick. Back soon. Be ready.

  Jesus, the bastard really was handling all this, wasn’t he?

  A shiver snaked down my spine and it wasn’t fear. In fact it felt horribly like anticipation.

  Irritated, I scrunched the paper up into a ball. Because there was no way. It wasn’t happening. I didn’t want some guy swanning in and taking over my life t
he way Justin had. Telling me what to do and expecting me to be grateful. Even if he was my best friend.

  What was going to happen was me sitting down with Smoke and telling him the truth. That I couldn’t be more than friends with him. He knew my background...knew why my friendship with him was so important. He’d understand, surely? He had to.

  Sighing, I dropped the balled-up paper and headed to the bathroom for a quick cold shower. Then I wandered back into the bedroom, wrapped in a towel, pulling open drawers and trying to decide what to wear.

  It took me a moment to realise what I was doing.

  I never stood in front of my drawers debating over clothes. I simply pulled on what was appropriate for work or what was comfortable for home. That was the extent of it.

  Yet here I was, looking at the contents of my drawers with my head full of Smoke. Wondering what to wear that he’d like. Wondering what would make me look sexy.

  Feeling like an idiot, I dropped the towel and reached for my usual jeans and T-shirt, pulling them on and resolutely not looking in the mirror.

  Turning to the door to head out in search of coffee, I nearly had a heart attack when I found Smoke’s black eyes staring back at me, the length of his hard, muscular body filling the doorframe.

  I blushed the moment I met his gaze, a wave of heat rolling through me as every single one of last night’s memories descended on me like a ton of bricks.

  ‘F-fuck, you gave me a fright,’ I stuttered. ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’

  He lifted a shoulder. ‘Yeah, sorry about that.’

  Resisting the urge to tug at my hair or my T-shirt, I stuck my hands in my back pockets. ‘Um...thanks for taking Annie to school. I guess I kind of slept in.’

  He didn’t move, staring at me with such intensity it was like an X-ray, memorising me right down to my bones.

  ‘No worries. You seemed like you needed it.’

  An awkward silence fell, which he made no move to break—the asshole.

  ‘I...I need to talk to you,’ I said, not knowing how to begin and irritated that he wasn’t giving me any help.

  He didn’t look surprised by this. ‘Sure.’ He turned. ‘Come out to the living room.’

  Pausing to grab a hair tie and put my damp hair in a ponytail, I followed him down the hallway, coming out to find him sitting in the middle of the couch with his arms along the back of it and his legs stretched out in front of him.

  He was in his usual T-shirt and jeans, both black, his cut on over the top, and I could feel my heart literally slow and come to a dead stop because of the way he was sitting: his long, lean body all stretched out, so fucking arrogant. So fucking hot.

  His T-shirt was pulled tight over his chest, highlighting the width and shape of the perfect musculature beneath. Tight over his shoulders, too, with the cotton moulding to the broad, powerful shape of them. He was strong enough he’d been able to lift me against the wall the night before like I weighed nothing...

  My throat constricted, my breathing shallow.

  I couldn’t stop staring at his body, at the lean hips and muscular thighs. I remembered what he’d felt like against me, how hot his skin had been...

  Asshole. It was like he’d turned something on inside me and now I couldn’t turn it off.

  He stared back, black eyes burning with the same dark flame I’d seen in them in that hallway as I’d knelt at his feet.

  ‘Strip,’ he said flatly.

  I blinked. ‘W-what did you say?’

  ‘Take off your clothes. Now.’

  A helpless shiver broke over me. ‘I thought we were going to talk.’

  ‘We are. You can talk and I’ll listen. But I want you naked.’

  ‘But...but I—’

  ‘That’s how it’s going to be from now on, kitten. We compromise. I get what I want and so do you.’ His sensual mouth hardened. ‘Now, take your fucking clothes off, or I’ll take them off for you.’

  Anger flared in my gut—reflexive, bonfire bright. Where the hell did he get off, ordering me around in my own home?

  Yet there was another part of me—a part I’d only discovered the night before—that liked the freedom of doing nothing but obeying him. That was tired of having do everything all the time. Tired of having to shoulder the responsibility of bringing up a child on my own. That wanted someone else to make the decisions and take charge. Just for a little while.

  It felt weak to give in to it. Like I was making myself vulnerable. And I knew what happened when I made myself vulnerable. Fists. Pain. My pride in tatters on the floor. I couldn’t do it. Once had been enough last night.

  But don’t forget this is Smoke. He would never hurt you. And didn’t you feel powerful last night?

  I swallowed. It was still difficult for me to understand how that worked. How I could be on my knees and yet feel strong? But there was no doubting that was how I’d felt the night before. I could do it again, couldn’t I?

  Of course you can. You want to. Don’t deny it.

  Yeah, I did want to. A deep part of me wanted more of that—his hands and his mouth and his cock—no matter how wrong it was. No matter how scared it made me feel. The switch was firmly turned to On, and it looked like nothing was going to flip it back.

  ‘Don’t be a chickenshit, Cat.’

  His low voice was a rumble I felt in my chest, taunting me the way he always used to when I baulked at doing something I was scared of.

  He would never force me. He would never hurt me. He was a totally different man from Justin. A totally different man from my father.

  Yet I was still scared.

  I didn’t want anything to change between us.

  But then, of course it already had.

  ‘What if I don’t want this?’ I asked. ‘What if I want to talk without anything else?’

  ‘Then I’m walking out of here,’ he said without hesitation.

  ‘Does that mean you’d walk out on Annie, too?’

  Something even darker flickered in his eyes. ‘Don’t you fucking dare use Annie like that. You know I’d rather die than let anything happen to that kid.’

  Shame crept over my skin, a creeping, prickling heat, and before I could stop myself the words just came out of me. ‘I’m scared, Smoke.’

  He didn’t move, and the look on his face didn’t soften. But the darkness in his eyes lessened slightly. ‘I know you are. But I won’t hurt you, kitten. You know I’d rather die than do that.’

  I don’t know what it was—maybe it was merely the reassuring sound of his voice, the normality of it. The voice of my friend. But the fear inside me ebbed...the tension eased.

  And before I was even conscious of having made a decision my hands reached for the hem of my T-shirt and I was pulling it up and over my head and unclipping my bra and letting it fall. It had been a long time since I’d undressed in front of a guy, so I kept my attention on my hands as I undid the button on my jeans and slid down the zipper. Then I pushed down the denim, taking my panties with it.

  It felt weird, undressing for my best friend. And when I stepped out of my jeans I found I still didn’t want to look at him. My heartbeat was so fast, so loud, my skin felt raw and exposed. I wanted to cover myself, but kept my hands at my sides.

  I wasn’t a fucking coward. I wasn’t.

  Raising my head, I forced myself to look at him.

  The expression on his face shook me all the way down to my soul.

  It was so intense. So hungry. As if he’d never seen a naked woman in all his life.

  A feeling swept through me—the same one I’d felt the night before. A feeling of power, of strength.

  He wanted me. He was desperate for me.

  I straightened, threw my shoulders back, and his gaze dropped to my breasts, then down further. A stain of red appeared on his high cheekbones.


  ‘Come here,’ he ordered, his voice thickened and rough.

  I hated being told what to do, and yet I found myself going to him all the same. Like there was a collar around my neck and he held the leash, drawing me closer and closer.

  I watched his face as I got nearer, watched him watch me, my heartbeat racing. My nipples had hardened and I could feel slickness between my legs, the heavy ache of desire making my breathing short and fast.

  There was a part of me that didn’t want him to see me so obviously turned on by him, but after last night that ship had sailed. I couldn’t hide it. And he certainly didn’t bother, making no effort to conceal the long, thick outline of his cock pressing against his zipper.

  Breathless, I stopped in front of his outstretched legs, looking down at him. ‘So?’ I said awkwardly. ‘Here I am.’

  He didn’t move and only patted his lap. ‘Facing me, kitten.’

  He definitely wasn’t going to make this easy for me, was he? Facing him meant kneeling astride him and looking into his eyes...meant being vulnerable to him. And he knew it.

  That challenge glittered in his black gaze—the one I couldn’t refuse. So I moved towards him, climbing into his lap and spreading my thighs so I could straddle him. He made no move to help me, his attention dropping to my swaying breasts as I gingerly settled myself astride him.

  My cheeks flamed. I wasn’t used to this—to being naked in front of him while he was fully dressed, to him watching me so intently. Then I noticed that the lines of his gorgeous face were pulled taut and his mouth set hard. His body beneath mine was rock hard, as if every muscle was clenched tight.

  He was holding himself back.

  The realisation made my embarrassment fade, leaving me aware of how rough the denim of his jeans felt against the insides of my thighs, of how hot he was, like lying right next to a roaring fire.

  He didn’t take his eyes off me, staring unspeaking as he lifted his hands and settled them lightly on my hips. I trembled, his touch setting off electric shocks that spider webbed all over my skin, catching me in a fine net of heat I couldn’t escape from.

  I tried to take a breath, but it sounded more like a gasp, and I realised with a start, as his fingers tightened on my bare flesh, that he was pushing me down onto him with slow, irresistible pressure.