Breaking His Rules

by Aliza Mann

  I don’t know what happened, but Terra was looking at my father smiling, until my father looked at her as if he was waiting for her response, too.

  “Wait…What did you say?” Her eyes were wide, the tears replaced with confusion.

  “I, um…well…I was wondering if you would marry me,” I said.

  She still sat there.

  “No…get out…Wait, I mean, yes…Of course, I’ll marry you Ashton. I can’t…” She was flailing her arms and fanning herself by the time I got down on one knee and opened the ring box at her feet.

  It was a princess-cut diamond, very simple so it would go with all her outfits. The woman had a closet to rival department stores, after all.

  Tears were falling heavily now and she must have been stunned into silence, because she froze in place.

  I carefully took the ring out and slid it onto her finger. That did it, because she was off the chair, on her knees, and draped over me within seconds. She cried into my shoulder as I held her, stroking her back. I pulled her back, needing to see her eyes, needing to know whether she was as happy as I was in that moment.

  When I pulled her back, her eyes were smiling. Just like when my father came home from work and swung my mother around with her yellow apron fluttering. “So, does this mean we can have pancakes tonight?”

  “Ashton Lyle, we can have whatever you want for the rest of our lives,” she said.

  I kissed her, bending her backward in our embrace, unable to contain myself, since she’d just made me the happiest man alive.

  The applause around us brought us back to reality. We were on the floor in the middle of a nursing home. I reluctantly let her go and helped her to her feet, stealing another quick kiss before we both sat back down.

  “Son,” my father said.

  “Yes, Dad?”

  “Well done, son. I hope you two are as happy as your mother and I were.”

  I glanced back over at her as she accepted a tissue from one of the women in the nursing home and wiped at her face.

  “You can bet on it, Dad. I promise.”

  Chapter 24

  Terra

  I sat there, a full week after he’d proposed, with the ring on my finger and hand extended away from my body. Ashton was busy packing some more clothes to bring back to my place while I waited in his bachelor pad. And it was. Complete with a pool table in the middle of what should have been a dining room. It was huge, taking up most of the room with about a foot of space around the thing in the dining area. The rest was loft style and had striking views of the river. We’d agreed that we would buy a new place after the wedding. But the pool table would need to be either in a basement or sold, because no way was I going to eat on a pool table. He’d already taken to the couch as the preferred place to eat, and I honestly didn’t care because he was by my side. A pool table was my hard limit, though. A girl had to have some boundaries.

  “You’re still staring at it,” he said, his voice coming from behind me followed by the sound of a bag hitting the hardwood floors and his arms around my shoulders, then a kiss on the neck.

  “Because honestly, it’s one of the most beautiful rings I’ve ever seen. Tell me why you picked the peach stone again?”

  “It’s so sappy, honestly, Terra.”

  “I know, I just want to hear once more. Then I’ll never ask you again.” I was lying, and he probably knew that, since I’d said the exact same thing the last time I begged him to tell it. Just once more.

  “Fine,” he said, pulling away from me. The sound of his shoes against the hardwood told me the direction he was heading and I looked up, eyes following him until he sat beside me. “I walked into the store and turned around to Gary to finally clue him in on the mission. I told him I needed to get Terra a ring that will take her breath away.”

  I wrapped my arms around one of his and lay my head on his shoulders, the wonderful scent I’d come to recognize as his filling me. Ashton leaned his head atop mine and continued. “He said I was a goner, and to my surprise, did not turn around and head out of the door. He marched up to the counter and yelled for someone to come over to help the poor guy who’d lost his whole heart to a woman too good for him. You see, he thought if I wasted any time, you’d come to your senses and toss me out onto my arse. Well, that got the attention of two salespeople. A man, and a woman by the name of Angela who pulled out just about everything in the store. The guy, Drake, showed me all these rings, but I wasn’t feeling them. Something wasn’t right, you know?”

  “No, tell me,” I said, trying hard to stifle my laughter.

  “Right. You couldn’t possibly know after hearing this story fifty times. Anyway, your fairy-tale story gluttony aside, I looked at every style and shape of diamond known to man. They were not you. None of them equaled your grace, your beauty, your spirit. That’s important when trying to get someone to say yes, you see.”

  “Umm-hmmm,” I replied, holding out my hand again to admire the stone.

  “Well, Angela picked up on it and said she’d be right back. I didn’t know what she was doing. Hell, it could have been her lunch break. So, I’m like, whatever, she’ll come back when she can. I had at least a hundred more rings to look at anyway. We continued, and by the time Angela walked back up, Gary was with the ‘nope, nope, nope,’ like he knew they were all wrong, too. It felt completely and utterly hopeless. But Angela stood there with this flat black board covered in velvet. It was not unlike any of the others, except there was only one ring on it.”

  “Yeah,” I sighed.

  “Yeah is right. Angela, in her infinite lady wisdom, picked up on the fact that I was helplessly in love with a woman who was so much more than I deserved. She took the board and laid it out in front of me. It was…Quite honestly, your ring reminds me of everything that is great about you. The stone color—this chocolate peachy tone—reminds me of your eyes when the sun rises in the morning. The setting for the main diamond is apart, like you are set apart from every other woman in the world. And the band represents my unending love for you. When I saw it, it all fit into place and I was sure that this”—he held my hand and rubbed his thumb over the top of the ring—“was your ring and you were to be my wife, from that day until there are no more days.”

  I sucked in air, the impact of the words hitting me in the chest, just like the other times I’d heard him tell the story. Ash was a natural at making my heart speed up and sometimes feel as if it were going to stop beating altogether from sheer joy and passion.

  “So I bought it, put it in my pocket, and prayed for the strength to ask you. And prayed that you would agree to be my wife. Which you did, because you’re smart like that,” he whispered.

  I craned my neck to look up at him and was met with a gentle, sweet kiss. “I guess I am. Thankfully, you didn’t give up on me.”

  “How could I? You plied me with pancakes. Carbs have always been a weakness of mine.”

  “That’s not your only weakness. So, you ready to go?”

  “I am,” he said, standing then grabbing my hands to help me off the overly cushiony couch. “But, let me say goodbye to Woody. He’s been a good friend of mine.”

  “Woody?” I asked.

  Ash turned and walked in the direction of the pool table. “Woody. My pool table. He was the first thing I bought for this place. Gary and I have played countless hours of pool. I’m an expert, after all.”

  “Oh really,” I said, running my fingers over the vibrant green tabletop.

  “You sound like you doubt my abilities.”

  “I don’t. I just recall you saying the same thing about Uno. I beat you the first time and every time since.”

  “I let you.”

  Raising my hand to my chest, I feigned insult. “Ash, you know that’s not true. You want to beat me with all your heart and soul. You just can’t. Bless your heart. Now le
t’s get home. We still have to review the venues that Gloria sent over and I need to find a ring for you.”

  “Well,” he started, his hand on one of the cues. “I thought I’d play a game with you.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “But how will you know how good I am?”

  “I can take your word for it.”

  “But I don’t want to do the wedding stuff, Terra. I just want to put on a tux and look good for you. I’m your arm candy after all. Now that that’s settled, let’s stay here and have a round.”

  “Who told you that? You aren’t the hottest guy I’ve ever dated.” I laughed.

  “What? We both know that’s not true. So listen, we’ll let Gloria do all the planning for us, we’ll pay her double even. And we’ll stay here, play a game of pool, and eat fast food for dinner tonight. See, it’s a win-win, because you won’t even have to cook.”

  I glared at him. Partly because he was ever the manipulator. He was always trying to work his magic on me. I was honestly surprised that he hadn’t realized how immune to his charms I was. At least, I let him think I was immune. “You have a blood pressure issue to watch, and until your next appointment, we’re staying with the low-sodium diet. Also, Gloria isn’t getting paid. She’s helping me plan this extravaganza out of the kindness of her heart. And finally, I can’t play pool because I never have. I haven’t the faintest idea of how to play. There. You happy now?”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so? Now I can teach you the proper way to play pool.”

  “Isn’t it billiards where you’re from?”

  “I guess we could still call it that, but there are differences between English and American pool. For instance, the rather large table. Then the pool cues are shorter, since the English table is shorter. That’s just the tip of the iceberg on the differences. But stop stalling. Come over here and let me show you how to play.”

  I still lingered behind him as he leaned over the table and racked the balls, giving me a spectacular view of his ass and the muscles in his arms. I’d seen the set of weights and medicine ball in his bedroom, which clued me in on how hard he’d worked on his body. Since he was getting stronger, he’d said he wanted to go to the gym, because he was getting flabby. I didn’t see any of that. To me, he was one fine man, everything exactly where it was supposed to be.

  “All right then. C’mon over. I’ll show you how to break.” Ashton picked the stick up again and rubbed blue chalk on the tip of it, all the while staring at me with smoldering eyes.

  I walked over to him and took the stick from his hands. “Fine, Ash. One game and then we have to go home. I told Brice he could leave early tonight, so I need to be there no later than eight.”

  “Oh, that’s plenty of time. I can take you out for Mexican over in southwest Detroit so you don’t have to cook.”

  “You never give up, do you?”

  “No, I don’t. You should know that by now about me. All right, so,” he said, clapping his hands. “The object of the game is to put all your balls into the pockets first and without sinking the black eight ball.”

  “Well, I know that,” I scolded with a roll of my eyes. “I don’t need you to mansplain that to me.” I smiled.

  “Okay, so let me help you hold the pool cue the right way, at least. Come over here,” he said, pointing his finger at the tabletop. He was standing at the long end, closest to where he’d placed the ball.

  I walked over to him, a smile playing on my lips. I think we both knew pool wasn’t what we were going to end up playing. I made it to him, our eyes locked. I was biting my lower lip and he licked his. He placed his hands on my hips and turned me around, just rough enough to let me know what kind of mood he was in. The gasp that escaped me sounded more like a hiccup, sudden and filled with air.

  “So, you need to take the cue and aim it at the ball,” he said, his lips so close to my ear I felt his shadow of a beard. The brief contact made the tip of my ears burn and a shiver run over me. “You should probably bend over a little.”

  I could feel his manhood stiffen against me as I bent at my hips and leaned forward, one hand on the end of the pool stick and the other on the table. “Like this?”

  “Yeah, you’ve got it,” he said. Reaching around me, his hand positioned mine over the end so I could aim the shot at the ball. “You need to line it up, and when you’re ready, take the shot.”

  With his guidance, one hand over the end of the stick, the other on my waist holding me in place, I moved the stick back, striking the white ball and breaking the others and watched as they scattered across the table. The orange striped ball rolled into a corner pocket and another was close but just hovered on the edge.

  “Good job, Terra. You’re probably born for pool,” he said.

  I turned around in his arms and stopped before him. His eyelids were heavy, the way he always looked at me before sex. “I think this game is dangerous for us. With you this close to me, I can’t even concentrate…”

  His eyes lowered to my lips and I self-consciously licked them. “It is. Probably because you have this strange effect on me. For some reason, ever since the day I met you, anytime I’m around you, I can only think of being inside you.” He ground his hips against me, his hardness grazing across my lower abdomen. I was instantly wet from his words and actions.

  “I hate to tell you, but that’s part of the reason I’m marrying you. You’re my Achilles’ heel,” I responded, smiling so hard I could barely get the words out.

  “Whew, good. That’s what I was going for. I want to be your weakness, Terra Elizabeth Ellis. The only one you have, apparently.”

  When he kissed me, his mouth on mine, tongue pressing inside, his hand around my waist holding me in place, it was as if I was about to take flight. He lifted me and sat me on the edge of the pool table, his hands on both my hips and pressing into my flesh beneath my T-shirt. I wrapped my legs around him, my go-to anytime he had me at hip level. I loved the way his manhood felt through the layers of clothes, the friction against my core almost enough to finish me. Almost.

  When he took his lips off mine, I wanted to cry out, but I merely panted, running my fingers through his hair as his mouth moved down my body. He lingered at my breasts, biting through the tee and bra until his teeth grazed my nipple. A powerful and electric charge ran through me until I was sure my hair would stand on end.

  Ashton slid his hands up my skirt and tore at the tights I wore, the sound of fabric ripping forcing another surge through my body. Then his hands were on my knees, spreading my legs apart as he lowered to my sex. I leaned back on my hands and pressed forward, making sure he didn’t have to work to get there.

  “I love your scent, Terra,” he growled before sinking his face into me, his tongue going to work on the tight nub and masterfully urging my release.

  “Ashton,” I cried out, the sound bouncing off the high ceilings in his apartment.

  Both his hands were on my thighs, holding me in place, making sure that I didn’t leap off the table and fly away, I guess. There was no way I was going anywhere. He made me feel like I was new, like all the broken parts in me were repaired. And I loved it. I loved him.

  I felt the orgasm in a rush, his lips and tongue and mouth working together to bring me to the edge. I tightened and released, my body his to command. When his two fingers slid inside and massaged me, first gently, then with more pressure, more control, more pumping, I shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, calling his name and demanding he take me.

  Ashton rose up, his hands running up and down my thighs as if comforting me, coaxing me back to reality for the next round.

  “Terra, I want you to ride me,” he demanded.

  I nodded, but before I could sit upright, he had me up into his arms, his arms around my waist and his mouth on mine again. I hadn’t even caught my breath before we were on the floo
r. Ashton had slipped his pants off at some point. On my knees and hovering over him, I ripped my tights more and slid my panties to the side. It would have taken me too long to take off my clothes. But Ash did raise my T-shirt over my head and pulled my body down to a parallel position to his own. Freeing one of my breasts, he suckled me, his other hand kneading my flesh through the white lace fabric.

  I slid onto his shaft, moving it inside, my body stretching to accommodate the girth and smoothly gliding over the skin. I felt his breath catch before he sucked me deeper into his mouth.

  “You feel so good, Ash,” I whispered, my eyes burning with tears of pleasure. One of his hands was on my ass, pushing me down onto him, and I rode him, knees pressed into the floor, my body movements near spontaneous as I impaled myself on him over and over again.

  I was wet with sweat against him, our limbs and mouths and bodies intertwined as if they were one. We fused together, the pumps so quick and pounding so hard each of us breathed in short, rapid puffs. My voice came out in choppy inhales. “Ash…I’m yours…it’s so…fucking good…”

  He didn’t even bother to speak, responding only in groans, ahhs and oohs and shits.

  We came together, wet and slick, hard and smooth, torsos arching and torqued into cords of pure muscles as the release ripped from our bodies. Melting against him, I was only able to rest my head on his chest, not strong enough to pull myself off his pulsing manhood.

  His arms were around me, holding me close. I tapped against his chest with my fingertip until he finally responded with a nearly inaudible grunt.

  “Do you know how much I love you?” I asked the question because I hadn’t been sure before if Ashton thought he was worthy of love. Whether he thought he was good enough for it.

  “I do. And do you know that if I hadn’t met you, I would have never fully lived?”

  Ashton was good like that. He used just the right words to make me melt, to make me change my mind, to make me love him even more. “Yes, Ash. Yes, I do, because I feel the same exact way.”