Stay

by A. L. Jackson

  I waved my hand in the direction of the big, blank wall that faced my bed opposite the bank of windows. “Pretty much cover this wall right here. I’d definitely like to wake to that in the morning. Go to sleep with it, too. Let’s start there. My own personal Feng Shui.”

  At least the delivery was all flirt and play.

  Beneath her breath, she laughed but remained focused on scribbling something on her notepad. Sure. She was lookin’ down, but that didn’t mean I missed the shy, affected grin playing all over her mouth. “You’re ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. You know that’s not going to happen, right? But what I’m hearing is you want sex.”

  Yes, yes, I definitely wanted sex.

  “For the room to have a seductive edge?” she clarified, arching a single brow my way.

  “Yeah. Sexy. A little dark. But I want it fun, too.”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure I follow you.”

  I slanted her a grin. “No question a bedroom needs to scream peace and comfort and all of that, but you’re missing out on an important factor. A bedroom should also be where a person has the most fun.”

  “I can only imagine the type of fun you’re implying, Mr. Evans.” She cleared her throat, trying to hide that sweet little giggle.

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong, darlin’. I’m a real fan of that kind of fun. Like I said, sex it up. But I don’t think you’re letting your imagination run wild enough for this project.”

  I lifted my arms out to the sides. “I’m a guy who’s prone to outbursts of fun. I want this room to accommodate that. Last thing I want is for it to feel stuffy or like I can’t let loose in here if I want to.”

  “And what exactly might that entail?”

  Slow and predatory, I closed the distance between us. Maybe I was lookin’ for any excuse to get a hand on her. Who the hell could blame me? “Let’s say I want to dance…”

  Pulling the notebook and pencil from her hold, I set them aside and took her by the hand.

  Nerves shimmered around her. Awkward and excited. Clearly she wanted to step out and play while that shy strength told her it’d do her wise to run away.

  Those chocolate eyes warmed, curious and wide. Open. Like she’d give anything to see inside me. Like maybe she wanted to dig through my demons. Discover my sins. Find out if there was any good to uncover.

  Again I got that crazy feeling of familiarity. The bizarre sensation that I knew her in some way, or maybe it was my gut telling me I needed to know her better, all the while that same gut was warning me to keep her at a distance.

  Fuck distance.

  I tugged her hand and made her stumble forward. Our fingers were woven and locked between our chests. My other palm glided down to rest on the small of her back. I pulled her closer.

  Heat shocked through the air.

  Electricity and fire.

  I could damn near feel it shivering across my skin.

  Swaying her gently, I held her close, my voice a gruff mumble against her cheek, “Maybe I wanna dance slow.”

  I guided her to step back before lifting her hand above her head. “Or maybe I want to cut loose and take up the whole room.”

  Quickly, I twirled her around.

  She squealed in surprise. Her hair fanned around her like a dark halo, a bright, bright smile on her face when I brought her back into the well of my arms.

  “Or maybe, I wanna get a little wild. Do cartwheels across the floor. Jump on the bed. Whatever feels right.”

  She was laughing free while we danced and swayed, me twirling her and dipping her before I suddenly had her backed against the wall, that sweet body all up close to mine.

  Urges hit me from every side. An overwhelming compulsion that had me aching to press my nose to the exposed flesh running along the delicate slope of her neck. To inhale her all the way from her tiny ear down to that sexy collarbone.

  Could almost smell the honey coming from her skin.

  My mouth watered.

  Shit.

  Here I was, just beggin’ for trouble.

  Our mouths were a breadth apart. That short-lived, easy atmosphere was replaced with the suddenly harsh breaths panted from her mouth.

  Everything rippled and shook.

  She stared at me, searching my face, looking at me a little like the way she’d been looking at my house.

  Like maybe I was one of those broken bits she wanted to sculpt and shape. Like she saw something buried that needed resurrected. But this girl didn’t have the first clue there was no chance of fixing me.

  Tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, she tentatively reached up and let the warmth of her blunted nails go scratching through the beard lining my jaw. Her touch was softer still as she trailed up, barely brushing the brand new scar marking me just below the eye.

  My dick jumped, and my chest squeezed.

  It felt so damned good.

  So right and so fuckin’ wrong.

  Her voice was a rasp. “Did you know I worried about you? When they took you away in that ambulance, all I could do was think about the man they’d carried away. I couldn’t stop picturing you strapped to that stretcher. A stranger who’d touched me without saying a word.”

  Something foreign shivered through my senses, rising up from that place I’d long ago locked up tight. I wanted to fucking trample it. Instead, I was giving in and brushing my nose across her forehead. I buried it in the fall of her hair.

  “Peaches,” I murmured.

  Did she know it’d been exactly the same for me?

  That hint of a memory stalking me. Day and night.

  With shaky, unsure hands, she caressed over my shoulders. Tentative and slow.

  Her breath hitched as she trailed farther down my arms.

  And those eyes. They were soft and warm and curious as her fingers began to trace over the lines and shades of the tattoos covering the entirety of my arms.

  I flinched.

  It wasn’t like chicks didn’t touch them all the time. But it was never done for any reason other than some girl taking the two things she could get from me.

  A night of wild, unbridled sex and a name to drop.

  And shit, I’d always counted that a win. The detachment. Skin on skin without a thread of intimacy.

  Willow’s touch almost felt like she was weaving herself into the fibers of my being. Like that crazy creativity that poured from her brilliant mind was passing through her fingers and becoming one with the art that covered my skin.

  I could feel it etching me like a slow burn.

  I heaved out a shuddered breath.

  With the sound, her eyes flicked back to mine.

  Her lips parted, and her expression churned in confusion.

  Lust. Need. Want. Fear.

  All of them played out across her delicate features.

  I shouldn’t have. I knew I shouldn’t. But there was nothing I could do to stop myself.

  Always, always in the moment.

  That was me.

  I pressed her harder against the wall, my straining cock eager against her jean-clad pussy.

  Desperate for friction.

  Anxious for relief.

  Everything sparked, and I could have sworn the room spun, the ground shifting below our feet.

  She gasped out in surprise, eyes so damned wide. Her nails pricked where they dug into the flesh of my shoulders.

  Hanging on.

  What was this girl doing to me?

  I leaned down, my mouth close to her ear. My voice came on a rough murmur. “Do you want me?”

  Didn’t have to wait long for her answer.

  Horror suddenly stole her expression.

  Grief and sorrow and guilt.

  She jerked free of my hold and turned to face out the windows. Rays of Savannah sun were shining down around her as she dropped her forehead to the pane, shoulders heaving with each breath she took.

  I edged up behind her. Set both my hands up high above her. Caged her in.

  “Peaches,”
I murmured again, trying to coax her out of the regret she was obviously riddled with now.

  Her words flowed with fortitude. “I don’t believe in love at first sight, Mr. Evans.”

  Confusion struck me, before a dark growl rumbled in my chest—my chest I was pressing to her back—letting all my hard get mixed up with all her soft.

  God. I wanted to sink straight inside.

  Leaning forward, my mouth brushed at the shell of her ear. “Who said anything about love, Peaches? This? This is lust.”

  I dropped a hand from the window, set it against her belly that shivered and shuddered against my touch. “Do you feel that? Everything simmering around us? Threatening to boil over? A flame just waitin’ for a match.”

  That lust stampeded through my veins, gaining speed. I could feel her heart battering her ribs against the thin fabric of her sweater.

  My voice dropped an octave. “Tell me you want me. Tell me you feel this, too.”

  She sucked in a breath, and I could feel the hurt threaded through the question. “Is that what you brought me here for?”

  The distress in her tone struck me hard, and I forced myself to edge back and give her some space. Seemed like a lifetime passed as she seemed to gather her resolve. Slowly, she turned around to face me. “Is it?” she demanded.

  The uncharted spun around us. Questions and confusion and uncertainties. “I don’t know,” I finally admitted.

  Anger and disappointment twisted her expression. “You don’t know? You offer me fifty thousand dollars to come redecorate a single room in your house, which of course just had to be your bedroom, and you don’t know? Tell me, Mr. Evans, did you bring me here to actually do something for you, or did you just want to sleep with me? Maybe you just needed to get a little guilt off your chest so you decided you might as well get something for yourself in the process? Which is it?”

  “Willow,” I mumbled, knowing my truth completely contradicted my actions. “You’ve gotta know it wasn’t my intention to upset you.”

  “It wasn’t your intention to upset me?” Her hands fisted against her chest like a cross of protection. “This…what you do…” She waved her hand to the spot where I’d just had her pinned against the window. “It might not be a big deal to you, but it’s a big deal to me.”

  Moisture glistened in her eyes, and I wanted to fucking kick myself for backing her into a corner.

  She fumbled to quickly gather her things.

  “Willow,” I attempted as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

  “I think we’re done here,” she said.

  “Come on, Willow.”

  She ignored me when she all but ran out my door.

  I gripped my hair, shouted toward the ceiling. “Fuck!”

  Because that was me. Reckless in the moments that should be cared for. The ones that so clearly should be taken in caution. I knew the moment I met her she was different.

  Guilt squeezed my chest. I’d hurt her and I hated being responsible for it.

  Scariest part of all was I didn’t know why I gave a fuck.

  eight

  Ash

  “Hey there, sugar, what can I get for you?”

  I glanced up at the hoarse voice of the older lady slinging drinks behind the bar. She tossed a napkin in front of me where I sat on a stool, my knee bouncing a million miles a minute. My attention darted around the small dive where I’d never before stepped foot.

  “Guinness would be nice.”

  “Coming right up.”

  So yeah. I was supposed to be lying low. Staying out of sight. Not knowing when I might stumble upon one of those assholes from the other night.

  Call me reckless.

  But there was no chance I could sit tight at my place for a second longer. After what went down with Willow earlier, I’d spent the whole day feeling like I was gonna go out of my mind.

  I was antsy. Anxious. Needing the thrill. That high of carnal pleasure shooting through my veins.

  No doubt, it was time to step back into my safe zone. Get firmly back into the realm I’d sentenced myself to years ago.

  No better place to rid Willow from my system than a place like this.

  “There you are,” the bartender said as she set the mug in front of me. “Bad day?”

  I chuckled as I wrapped a hand around the handle. “Something like that.”

  I was an ass. No wonder Willow had hightailed it out my door. I’d pushed her when I shouldn’t have. But that sure as fuck didn’t give her the right to try to have the 50k I’d transferred to her account wired back to me.

  I’d sent it right the hell back.

  It was hers. Job or not.

  “Well, let’s just hope we can make it better. No happier place in the world than The Hideout.” She gestured around the shabby, grimy, rundown bar, the woman chuckling at her own joke.

  A smile ticked up at the corner of my mouth, and I lifted the mug her direction in a salute.

  She was right.

  This place would do just fine.

  I took a swig of the beer, before I turned away and got down to business. Hunting as I looked around the dark, dank space littered with a few small tables and a row of worn down pool tables at the back. Traditional billiards lights hanging from above cast the area in a yellow haze. The place was sprinkled with just a handful of people out shooting a round and a couple scruffy old guys at the bar who probably considered this place home.

  She found me before I even found her.

  Easy.

  The chick sauntering up to me would probably slap me across the face if I were to actually speak the word aloud.

  Not sexy or hot or all kinds of fuckable. Which believe me, she was all those things.

  But the God’s honest truth? I didn’t mean it offensively. Meant it as a compliment to us both.

  No strings attached.

  Zero consequences.

  Who the fuck would count that as bad?

  Not me.

  The leggy blonde didn’t even hesitate to run her fingers through my hair.

  Apparently I had easy written all over me, too.

  “Ash Evans.” It was all a purr in the back of her throat.

  Second nature, my smirk kicked up, and I was chewing at my bottom lip as I let my hand cinch on her waist. “In the flesh,” I told her.

  She let her fingertips crawl along the collar of my tee. “I’d like to see more of it.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Mmhmm.”

  Coy apparently wasn’t her thing.

  This chick was so my speed.

  So much my speed that I was on my feet and hauling her toward the short hallway that led to the restrooms, where I was pushing her up against the wall and shoving my fingers in her hair, my mouth diving to meet with hers.

  Seeking relief.

  To get back to who I was.

  What I knew.

  Because Peaches had invaded my mind.

  And this girl was all floral perfume.

  That kind of thing never bothered me.

  Not ever.

  But I couldn’t shake the feeling something was off.

  Something sour settled in my stomach. I tried to pour that frustration into this girl.

  I mean, come on.

  I was the goddamned life of the party, and for this kind of party, I was usually the world’s most obliging host.

  But it wouldn’t come. My aggressive kisses turned shallow. Finally I let my forehead slump against hers as I pushed out an exasperated groan.

  God.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  The poor girl I had pinned against the wall tilted her head back in confusion. “What’s the matter?”

  That was a good damned question.

  “It’s just…been a weird couple weeks.”

  She quirked a brow. “Not in the mood for living up to your reputation?”

  Short laughter rocked from me, and regret had me shaking my head as I took a step away. “Guess not.”


  I prepared for her to rail on me for being a total dick. Instead, she patted me on the chest like she felt sorry for me. “You don’t look so good. You should go home.”

  What bothered me most? No doubt she was right.

  nine

  Ash

  The doorbell echoed against the old walls of the house, rousing me from sleep. I blinked against the emerging day. Considered tossing the covers over my head and ignoring the intrusion, but when it rang again, I hauled myself out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans, and snagged a tee from the floor.

  I jogged downstairs, opening the front door as I was pulling the shirt over my head.

  Then I froze.

  Bright morning light poured in through the doorway. In the middle of it was Willow, standing there looking totally unsure and somehow confident, too.

  My chest tightened in that crazy way, in relief and regret and something I didn’t want to contemplate.

  “Willow.” Caution filled my tone.

  Honestly wasn’t sure if I’d ever see her again.

  She peeked up at me. “Can we talk?”

  “Of course.”

  I stepped back, giving her space to enter. She didn’t say anything. She just went directly for the stairs, climbing them with the same work bag she’d had yesterday bouncing against her hip.

  I followed her lead, trying to come up with the right kind of apology, wanting to reach out and touch her just the same, hating the fact this girl had me so off-kilter I was having a hard time recognizing myself.

  She headed straight into my room. She rounded on me as soon as she was in the middle. She lifted her chin. Fierceness took hold of her posture, all mixed with distinct apprehension.

  Confounding.

  This shy girl who exuded a quiet strength.

  “You returned that money to me,” she accused.

  I sighed. “Of course I did. It’s yours.”

  Her gaze bounced around my room. “But I left.”

  My nod was reluctant. “Yeah. You left because I was pushing you a direction you didn’t want to go. That’s on me. I’m…” My gaze dropped, before I looked up at her, wading in my own unease, because I sure wasn’t used to this shit. “I’m fucking sorry, okay? Really sorry. And I want you to have that money, one way or another. I guess I just thought…” I trailed off because I didn’t want to say it.