by Kira Blakely
Oh, right. Dawson’s friend. What was his name again? She thought to herself.
Ashton.
She took a seat at the bar, watching him and the woman. He didn’t seem to know her, but he ordered her a drink. She gave him a coy smile and said something that made him shake his head. Laura turned her eyes back to the bar just in time to see the guys at the pool table.
Her gut said trouble was about to happen. Not one of them had a happy look on their rough faces, and all of them were staring right at Ashton and the woman still talking to him.
1
ASHTON
“KNIFE!”
The shouted word jolted Ashton back in time – back to the fight that sent Dawson out of school and Ashton into reform school.
The anger came surging up with the memory. He had bigger reasons to be angry than just the memory of a knife striking along his abdomen just then, too.
Gerald. The creep who’d once beaten Ashton into the dirt was now twice as big and even uglier than before. Gerald still had it out for him – that much was clear.
Ashton was the reason Gerald had spent five long years in a maximum-security lockup, and by the time he got out and back to the block, his dad was locked up and his street rep was shattered. Gerald’s dad had done the unthinkable and turned on his suppliers to get a reduced sentence. As a result, Gerald came home to nothing – not even a place to lay his head.
Naturally, it was all Ashton’s fault.
Gerald felt like if he had been free he could have taken over before his dad got too far gone to do anything more than front out big shipments of dope that somehow never got sold and before he could get locked up and rat on his suppliers.
Because his dad owed so many debts, Gerald couldn’t even get into the family business. Now he spent his life working at a low-wage job in a shabby garage down on the same block his dad had once ruled over.
Ashton groaned inwardly as he studied Gerald, the two guys flanking him, and the wicked gleam of the blade flashing in Gerald’s meaty grip.
He had time to wonder what kind of idiot he had to be to not only get into a fight with Gerald, but over the woman who was now cowering behind Gerald. Obviously, she was thrilled at this turn of events. She had her man and another dude fighting over her dubious charms.
Not that Ashton had really been interested in her at all. She’d sashayed up to him at the bar and cooed a few words in his ear. He’d bought her a drink mostly to get rid of her. Gerald had pounced and now they were all out here in the dimly lit parking lot: him against three guys, a woman who may or may not jump in, and a knife.
Great odds, if he’d been on the other side of it all.
On his side was him.
Oh, and her.
Her being that friend of Lexie’s. What was her name? Lori? Laura?
She’d come hauling ass out of the bar, all long legs in skinny jeans and high boots, firm breasts in a body-hugging sweater that also emphasized her flat midriff.
The perfect distraction.
And the last thing he needed right now.
Laura – that was her name he remembered just then – stormed closer, her glorious hair spilling across her narrow shoulders, the ends trailing across her tits. He had to restrain an urge to reach out and brush one lock of hair away from her right tit – just give her a smile and wish he could have had her before this wholly ignominious death thing that was about to happen to him in the parking lot of a club that was already showing all the signs of being a huge flop.
After all, the only people who’d shown up were Gerald and his crew, him and Laura, and the usual debauched set that swarmed to any bar offering half-off drink specials and free pretzels. And he had only come because he’d been driving by and seen the sign for the soft opening. It was a bar he had never been in, and he had been hoping to find distraction from his current bad mood and the case of the blues that had settled over him lately.
Well, he certainly wasn’t feeling depressed or bored. That was something.
Gerald gave him a lazy smile. Laura, who’d been the one to shout out ‘knife,’ took up a stance next to Ashton. The wind blew up just a little, giving him a whiff of her perfume – light, spicy, and somehow so sexy that, despite everything, his dick started to harden yet again.
It had begun to harden the moment she’d come running out the door of the club, breasts bouncing and face slightly red from exertion.
Laura said, “You want to fight one-on-one, that’s cool. But why you would think he wants her is beyond me. He’s here with me.”
The woman with Gerald stuck her dried platinum head out from behind Gerald. “Then he should not have bought me a drink!”
“You shouldn’t have asked for one. Believe me, I’m pissed at him for buying you a drink, but I’m more pissed that you came walking up and asked for one.”
What the hell was she doing? She had been sitting right next to him, and he had nodded at her. He remembered her vaguely from some party he had gone to at Dawson’s request and that she was Dawson’s girlfriend’s friend. That last was exactly why he hadn’t hit on her instead of buying the woman behind Gerald a drink.
Dawson was seriously protective over Lexie, his girlfriend, and if Ashton screwed over her friend he would have to hear about that from Dawson.
No, thanks.
“Go fuck yourself! You should keep your man’s dick in his pants then!”
Ouch. Ashton was busy watching Gerald’s hand and trying not to laugh at the sudden comedic turn that whole thing had taken.
Laura put her hands on her hips and said, “His dick? Are you fucking serious? When did you ever see his dick? He felt bad for you, and he bought you a drink. You know, sort of the thing any nice guy would do.”
Oh, God. He was going to laugh. No way was he a nice guy – not by any stretch of the imagination.
Blondie stuck her head back out and gave Laura an imperious middle finger. “Yeah, you keep on thinking he wasn’t totally into me?”
“Oh? And you’re such a tramp you were willing to ditch Prince Charming there if he had offered you more than a drink? For real, guy, that’s the woman you think you need to fight over.”
Uh oh. Gerald’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying about my girl, you bitch?”
“Don’t call her a bitch,” Ashton was no longer tempted to laugh. He was mad as hell. He stepped closer, disregarding the knife now. “If you’d kept your freak on a leash and off the guys in the club, you wouldn’t be out here in the parking lot trying to defend whatever she passes off as her honor.”
Gerald’s hand moved. Ashton’s stomach sucked backward. A thin stream of some vile smelling stuff flew past his face and he closed his eyes as soon as his brain told him what it was.
Mace!
Laura had just maced Gerald!
Gerald screamed, but he didn’t drop the knife. Ashton, never one to waste an opportunity when the odds were so stacked against him, drove his right foot right into Gerald’s balls. Naturally, Blondie was the first to come out swinging. Ashton ducked away. Laura responded by whipping out the mace again and sending a jet of it into Blondie’s eyes.
The two guys with Gerald rushed in. Gerald was on the ground, holding his balls with one hand and the knife with the other. If he got up, it was over.
He need not have worried. Laura dropped the empty can of mace and stuck a hand into her purse. The unmistakable sound of a Taser lit up the night just as the two dudes swarmed in.
One of them yelled and flailed around, then dropped, leaving Ashton with just one guy to deal with.
Way to level the odds!
Gerald was attempting to get up. Ashton managed to land a few punches and still deliver a brutal kick to Gerald’s thigh. The tased guy was down; Blondie was clawing at her face, and it looked like the best chance Ashton and Laura had to get out of there.
Fast.
He gave the guy looping punches toward his head – a hard-right cross followed up by a speedy jab to his gut. The sound
of sirens approaching fast diverted his attention away from the fight.
Laura yelled, “Come on! Where’s your car? We have to go!”
She grabbed him by one arm. Ashton didn’t argue. He hurtled across the parking lot, aiming for his expensive sports car. He popped the locks with the remote and started it before he even got the door open.
Laura ducked into the passenger seat. Unbelievably enough, she was laughing! Now, there was one hell of a woman. He studied her more closely despite the need to watch where he was going. He knew she was friends with Lexie, but why hadn’t he paid more attention to her before, even if she was?
A woman like that…that was his dream woman.
Ashton peeled out of the lot, heading west. On the other side of the median, blue lights flashed and sirens wailed. Laura said, “Whew! We got out of there just in time!”
“Yeah, no shit.” He gave her an admiring stare even as he slowed the car down, just in case any of the cops decided to come after him for speeding. “Thanks.”
“Thank you. It was a pretty boring night, and I had to call a cab to get there, too.”
He found himself at a total loss as to what to say to that. “Oh. Okay.”
“What a waste of cab fare that place was.”
He eyed her carefully. “What’s wrong with your car?”
“Nothing,” she settled her tall and elegantly carved figure deeper into his leather seat. “I just don’t want a DUI. My boss is an asshole and a real puritan. I have enough issues just keeping my job there.”
“I can see that. You’re Lexie’s friend, right?” He knew she was, but he was just hoping to get a conversation started.
“Yeah, we came to the city together, and we were real close back home and here, too, until she got all into dating your friend.”
“Dawson’s a good guy.”
Laura said, “I didn’t say he wasn’t. I said Lexie is too busy with him to really hang out with me anymore.”
Ashton said, “Yeah, I get that.”
“You and Dawson don’t hang as much either since they started dating?”
“It isn’t like that. We’re tight, but Dawson’s always been nose to the grindstone. He’s never really been a ‘hang at the bars all week’ kind of guy.”
“Lexie’s not much for partying either. She never really was.” Laura shrugged. “I don’t know that I am much anymore either, but I like to have fun and a good time. It just feels a little forced lately.”
God. She’d just said exactly how he felt so much of the time. He asked, “Where’s your place?’
Her slender fingers pointed to the right. “Right over there.”
He pulled up in front of the bland building. Laura bit her lips and then asked, “Hey, you want to come in? Lexie’s gone for the night, and really I’m just sort of…”
She stopped there. Her fingers twisted together. Then she added, “I’ve got some good wine. I’d hate to drink it alone.”
He should say no. He knew that. The last thing he needed to do was get into something with Lexie’s best friend. If something went even remotely wrong, he’d been on the fire for sure.
But damn. It was not every day that he met a woman like her either, and he was not ready to walk away from her yet.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”
LAURA
Okay, it was stupid.
Definitely stupid.
The last thing she should be doing is offering Ashton anything, and she knew damn well that he knew – just like she did – that wine was the least of what she was offering.
He was hot, but that alone wasn’t enough to risk Lexie’s disapproval. There was just something about him.
Laura felt a sense of kinship with him. He was the yin to her yang or some Zen shit, she mused as they entered her apartment and stepped inside. The lights were off, she had forgotten, again, to leave a few lights burning. She hit the switch on the wall, bringing the living room into view. It was tidy enough. She pointed to a small sofa and said, “Grab a seat, and I’ll get the wine.”
She headed into the kitchen to fetch the wine and some glasses. Back in the living room, she popped the cork expertly with a corkscrew and poured them both a generous amount into the glasses.
She held her glass up and said, “Here’s to surviving a bar fight!”
Ashton laughed and clinked his glass to hers. “I’ll drink to that.”
He sat close to her, his leg pressing against hers. The heat of his body made her want to lean closer so she could get more of it into her skin, and so she could smell the wonderful and faded scent of his aftershave.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their wine. Anticipation curled through Laura as she watched his face and looked down at his long hand resting on his knee.
She tried for small talk, but all the words she wanted to say died behind her lips and went unspoken. That feeling, that unfurling passion, kept her silent, and the heavy, electric tension riding through her body made thinking difficult if not impossible. She felt a little blush heat her face. Did he think she was dumb? That she had zero ability to speak? She turned her face to his and saw his heavy-lidded gaze scan first her face and then drop to the swells of her breasts. Her nipples betrayed her, thrusting against the fabric of her bra and sweater and sticking out in strong exclamations of longing.
There was no way to continue to pretend that she did not want him. She did, and she knew he wanted her, too. The passion was igniting between them. Holding back was useless, and what was more, she didn’t want to.
Their heads tilted toward each other. Her pulse pounded hard against the delicate skin at the base of her neck, and a slight sweat broke out on her face as anticipation spilled through her. Butterflies erupted in her belly, and his head came closer. His hand lifted, and his fingers caught in her hair, fisting it as he brought their faces closer still, and then his lips slanted down hard on hers, stealing her breath and making her nipples stiffen until they ached.
Their lips met and held. His tongue met hers, and they let the kiss grow stronger and more passionate with each thrust and connection of their tongues. His hands rested on her narrow waist, and her hips arched upward slightly so that his hardened manhood rubbed against her crotch. Tingles shot through her lower belly, fluids trickled into her panties, and her gasp was soft and low, lost in his mouth.
“God, I want you,” he breathed when he finally broke that searing kiss off.
That he was thinking the same thing she was made her heart flutter. Her panties grew sticky with sweet juices. They dripped from her, and she knew that by the time he touched her she would be soaked.
Suddenly shy, she pointed down the hall, “My bedroom is that way.”
“I would like to see it.”
He didn’t say anything else, and she didn’t need him to. She took him by the hand, and they walked down the hall together. In her bedroom, she switched on the light and said in a voice that was slightly higher pitched than usual, “It’s not a big bed.”
It wasn’t. She had a double bed that generally sufficed since, out of respect for Lexie, Laura didn’t bring guys home. Oh, she had in the beginning, but it worried Lexie, and Lexie, in her sweet and sincere way, sometimes lectured Laura about safety and other things, which drove her nuts.
The bed was not just small; the room was also messy. Laura spotted a few items that should be anywhere but where they were: a pair of panties she’d tossed on the floor, a black lace bra hanging off the edge of the bed, and she’d forgotten to toss her dirty clothes from earlier into the laundry hamper.
Groaning inwardly, she added, “It’s not usually this messy. I swear.”
“It’s big enough.”
His words set her on fire. But his touch was even more heated. His fingers tangled into her thick auburn hair and tilted her head back so that she could reach her mouth more easily.
The kiss in the living room had inflamed her. This kiss ignited her. Her legs and knees literally went weak.
Her already damp panties became so wet that they were uncomfortable.
Her boots – those boots that looked so good on – were difficult as hell to get off. Laura yanked at them, tugging hard. Ashton lent her hand, getting them off finally amid a flurry of kisses, her apologies, and a few giggles. He stripped the rest of her clothes off her neatly and quickly. It took nearly no time at all before she was bared to his gaze and her ass cheeks clenched a little as he stepped back to survey her.
His voice was slightly hoarse as he said, “Beautiful,” in a low murmur that made her body respond by sending more juices to collect along her pouty lower lips. Her clit pounded and throbbed. She wanted his hands and mouth there on that aching flesh. She wanted him inside her and to feel her heels locked around his waist, banging against the small of his back.
Rich, thick juices gushed from her, and she squirmed. Her hands moved down along his body as his mouth met hers in yet another kiss. As she found the buttons on his shirt and got it open, her mouth went to his nipples. She teased the small points into erect hardness and was rewarded by his gasp and an involuntary thrust of his hips against hers.
Her fingers stroked his rock-hard abs. Her nails skated across his belly button and down to the buttons of his jeans. He kicked his shoes off, and she managed to get his jeans and underwear down all at once. They fumbled around on the bed, struggling to get out of their clothes – he was trying to get out of his jeans, and she was struggling to get her panties off.
Finally, they were both naked. Ashton lay on top of her, skin to skin. His skin was smooth and velvety, but below it his muscles were iron. His fingers caressed every inch of her body, sending her careening towards the edge of ecstasy.
She took his throbbing member into her hand, running her fingers lightly along the shaft and around the head. Her thumb found a slippery drop of fluid on the tip of his cock, and she rubbed it into that delicate skin, lubricating it.
Ashton shattered as her touch aroused him even further. His mouth found her nipples, while his fingers slid down her body. He ran his fingers tenderly through the neatly trimmed curls that covered her mound, teasing her for a moment.