Her lips twist as she plates a slice of banana bread and hands it to me. “So. Is this gonna be awkward?” she asks.
I swallow, warming my hands on the coffee mug. I’m glad she’s not letting me off the hook. She’s diving right in. There was a reason I liked her. “You mean the fact you’ve now seen me have sex with not one but three women?”
From her comments over the past twenty-four hours, I know that she finally caved and googled me. I also know that the first fucking thing that pops up in the search engine is the video.
Her face reddens, but she doesn’t back away. Lots of women would. It makes me wonder just what Ember’s story is. Because my past doesn’t have her skittering away like a timid mouse. She’s looking in my eyes. She’s the one who asked the question.
“Everyone has a past,” she says.
I move closer, pushing my luck. “Does mine scare you?”
She tilts her head, speaking slowly. “It doesn’t scare me.” She doesn’t offer me any more. God, I wish I could get inside her head and understand everything about her.
Despite her insistence that this is just a business arrangement, that we’re only here because she needs the money, she can’t hide the pull that’s between us. I see it in the way her pupils widen when she looks at me, the way her breath hitches whenever I get too close.
Walk away, asshole, my head demands. But I’ve never been good at listening to that particular organ. I’ve thought mostly with my cock, but this feels different. The tug comes from my chest.
“You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?” I say, leaning my hip against the counter, and breathing in her scent - sunshine and vanilla.
“Should I?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. I think that’s the problem. Ever since Absinthe got famous, everyone started letting me off the hook. Hell, my mom, God bless her, never held me accountable in my life. She always wanted my life to be easier than hers.” I run a hand over my smooth jaw, wishing I could take back so many wrongs, make them all right. “I’m not trying to make excuses—”
“Then don’t,” she says, holding my gaze.
Unable to resist, I brush my knuckles across her cheek. Her eyes close and she trembles, lips parting slightly, like she’s waiting for my kiss.
“I know you think I’m an asshole.”
She shakes her head and takes a step back, then grabs her purse, and walks to the backdoor. “Ash, how many times do I have to tell you? You don’t know anything about me.”
And just like that, she’s gone. I press my fingertips to my forehead. Groaning, sure everyone in the house can hear.
“Hey douchebag,” Saint calls to me. “Time to clock in.”
I grab the banana bread, refill my cup of coffee, and head to the living room. I don’t know how to fix my relationships with everyone in this house, but actually showing up to work is a good ass place to start.
Chapter Eleven
Ember
Millie is already at our favorite cafe table by the time I arrive. She smiles brightly at me, and I’m glad I decided to meet up with her before Cadence comes home this afternoon from her dad’s. It’s easy for me to keep my emotions bottled up, but it’s time to break out of those bad patterns. To be better. Braver.
“Got you a chai,” she says, pointing at the porcelain cup opposite her.
“Perfect. I’m coffee’d out.”
“Long morning?” she asks, lifting her latte to her lips.
“Long weekend.”
“Are you finally going to fill me in? Your texts were so cryptic yesterday.”
“Sorry about that,” I say, sighing. “Truth is, my head is a mess.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
I lean back in my chair. Millie and I met when Tabitha and Cadence were in preschool together two years ago. We grew close quickly because we live in the same neighborhood and our daughters get along, but there’s a lot she doesn’t know about me. A lot no one knows.
“So about Friday night...” I start. “I totally owe Granger an apology.”
Millie laughs. “Are you kidding?”
I shake my head. “What do you mean?”
“Granger thought it was amazing to meet Absinthe. Keith said he was bragging about it at poker last night. Not in a crude way. In a, ’I lost a girl to Asher freaking Stone’ way. Apparently it made his year. It was kinda sweet.”
I exhale, relieved that I didn’t hurt Granger - he was a nice guy and seems like a good man. Too bad I’m not a good girl. And seeing who Asher is, did the opposite of what it should have.
Seeing him on the screen, in a video where his heart was broken, and his eyes were wrecked didn’t make me want to close my eyes. It drew me to him.
What does that say about me?
That I haven’t changed.
Despite my insistence that it’s only business between us, I know the truth, I’m already falling, hard.
“I didn’t realize the guys renting my place were Absinthe.”
“How do you feel about it? I mean, they are hot - even Keith has a boner for Landon St. James. But, they have a reputation. At least Asher Stone does.”
I lean in and whisper, “Have you seen his video?”
Millie grimaces. “I hadn’t, but after the Boneyard, Keith and Granger and I were pretty wasted. Tabitha was at my mom’s and the house was empty and so I don’t know why, but we watched it.”
“All three of you? Together?”
Millie swallows. “Don’t judge me, okay? But, God, I don’t even know how to say this.” She closes her eyes. Squeezes them shut, really. “Okay, this is totally out of character for me, but things escalated that night.”
“Escalated how?”
“It’s why I really wanted to see you, Em. I have to talk to someone about it. Someone besides Keith and Granger.”
I cover my mouth in shock. “Did you have a threesome?”
Millie lets out an eek. “Yeah. We did. Crazy, right?”
“Wow, Millie. That’s...”
“Are you totally going to judge me?”
I reach across the table and take her hand. “No. I’m in no place to judge. I mean come on, I’m attracted to a man who is all wrong for me.”
Millie’s eyes brighten. “You and Asher...did you hook up?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“But?”
I exhale, needing to admit the truth. “I want to.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
I bite my bottom lip. “I have Cadence to think about.”
“You aren’t just a mother, you know, you are also a woman. A woman with needs.”
I chuckle. “Is that what you told yourself Friday night?”
Millie smiles coyly. “Something like that.”
“Are you glad you did it?”
“I am. Keith and I’ve talked about it before. Not because we weren’t satisfied with our love life, but because it’s always been one of my fantasies and it just...it felt right. It was fun.”
“Would you do it again?”
Millie shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe? I love Keith, but I’m also my own person.”
“I had no idea you were so sexually adventurous,” I admit.
“There’s a lot about me that would probably surprise you.”
My belly flip flops at those words, knowing I’ve said them to Ash more than a few times over this past week.
I keep telling him he doesn’t know me, but have I given him a chance to figure me out?
The answer is a firm no. And there is a reason for that. But right now, as I look at Millie - a faithful wife, a generous friend, a loving parent - I think maybe my reason for not opening up is all excuses. The same ones I’ve been using for years.
Asher Stone is a bad idea.
But when I watched his video, I wasn’t disgusted.
The opposite, in fact. I wanted to wrap Ash up in my arms and kiss him long and soft. I wanted to take off all my clothes and offer myself to him, enti
rely. Not as a sacrifice, but as a lover.
“I’m proud of you,” I tell her. “For taking what you wanted.”
Millie grins. “Oh, please. It was no sacrifice on anyone’s part. Everyone got what they wanted that night.”
We leave the cafe, promising to catch up at the park the next afternoon. I give her a hug, grateful for her friendship. Walking home, I stop at the Pharmacy and make a purchase I haven’t even thought about in years. My cheeks are red when the young sales clerk rings in the box of condoms.
When I step inside my house, I pause at the doorway, watching as all four guys from Absinthe circle around one another. Music rushes over me, the piano is tuned, a guitar is being strummed, and the words from Asher’s lips hit me straight at the heart.
Her back’s against the brick wall, a graveyard straight ahead.
I could touch her here all night, but I need her in my bed.
My stomach twists and emotions rush through me. Ash is singing about us.
The guys see me, and they smile as I step inside, but Ash tightens his jaw. He must know what I’m thinking. That this is kind of fucked-up. And yet it does something to me. Gives me a false sense of hope. That maybe he feels more than just lust. That maybe he’s falling just a bit for me too.
I don’t know if I should run away or run into his arms.
Is it wrong that I want him to run his hands all over me? To let him consume me fully, like those stormy eyes have been threatening to do for the past week. To let myself open up and feel again.
Don’t make this more than it is, my brain warns.
“What do you think?” Saint asks.
“I think it’s a start,” I say, licking my lips. Making a choice.
Sex. That’s all it’ll be. And I’m okay with that. Because I don’t just want it. I need it. Need him.
Ash watches me, and when his eyes lock on me, I feel exposed, a blast of heat licking at my skin. “I guess you’ll have to see where it goes before you make any decisions.”
His words hold a double meaning.
“Yeah, I guess I will,” I say.
Synn laughs. “Tough cookie.”
“Eh, she’s a woman who knows what she likes, is all,” Dusky says, not having any idea how true his words are. I certainly have a type.
And it’s Asher Stone.
“Hey, I’m starved. Let’s take a break, meet back in an hour?” Saint suggests.
The guys split up, headed in different directions. I hear Synn and Dusky head outside through the backdoor, Saint is in the kitchen opening cupboards. I walk over to Ash.
“About the song—”
“It’s okay,” I tell him. I’d already forgotten about it. My head is only focused on one thing - my decision.
He reaches out, calloused fingers brushing my jaw, making me tremble. “You’re all flushed.”
“I...um...I got something for us.”
One dark brow raises. “For us?”
“Oh God,” I groan, not realizing how hard this would be. “This is awkward.” I hand him the bag, feeling my cheeks burn. “Here.”
He takes the small bag and pulls out the box of condoms. His expression is so hard to read, and he just stares at it for a moment, the muscle in his jaw twitching.
Shit, maybe I read this whole thing wrong.
I reach for the box. “This was silly—”
He doesn’t let go and for a moment we’re in a tug of war with the damn condom box.
“Ember,” he says, his voice gravelly, deep, and it makes my core clench. Then he moves closer. Too close. Close enough that I can feel his warm breath on my lips, almost taste his kiss.
I chew on my bottom lip. This is so wrong, but when he reaches out and cups the back of my neck, those gray eyes trained on me, it feels so right. He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at me, searching my face like it holds some kind of mystery.
I stutter, “I uh, thought...maybe...we can see where this goes.”
A deep, guttural sound rumbles from his throat. “So you’re saying...”
I let out an uneven breath. “I’m saying you were right, this is more than just a business arrangement. I...I want you.”
Ash groans, leaning in, his mouth against my ear. “The guys will kill me if I fuck you.”
I close my eyes, his touch blazes through me. “Then don’t tell them.”
Again, he’s searching my eyes, but there’s a small smirk tugging at his lips now. “I knew there was a rebel in there.”
“You have no idea.” I glance down, wondering if I’m not falling down the same rabbit hole I did years ago. But then I’d been a rebellious teenager, not understanding that actions have consequences.
So what’s my excuse now?
Him.
Ash’s fingers tangle in my hair at the nape of my neck, tugging softly so I have to look up at him. “This what you meant when you say I don’t know everything about you?”
“Kiss me,” I tell him, not wanting to talk. Especially not about the past.
He hesitates, but I can see his self-control unraveling. His nostrils flare, and his breathing is harsh. “Not here.”
I look around, the room is empty, but I understand. I take his hand and he follows me down the hall, I close my bedroom door, locking it shut. Pulling up a playlist, it blasts from my portable speaker. I close the blinds.
This is happening.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he says, standing behind me, his breath on my ear. “And so fucking sexy.”
His fingers run over my belly, over my breasts. I close my eyes. “I haven’t been with anyone in years,” I admit, spinning to face him.
“Does that mean you want me to go slow?” He smirks, lifting my blouse up over my head. He’s smooth, he knows how to undress a woman, undress himself.
“No, it means I need this really badly.”
His eyebrow lifts, unhooking my bra from behind. “I thought so.” He lowers his head, kissing my nipples. His tongue expertly swirling over the hard bud, pulling a deep moan from my throat.
“Yeah?” I thread my fingers through his hair as he drops to his knees, pushing my panties past my hips.
“Outside of the Boneyard you told me to make you come.”
“So you think I’m—”
He cuts me off. “I think there’s a lot to learn when it comes to you, Ember.” He kisses my belly button, holding onto my hips. I inhale, letting myself relax in his arms. Millie gave in to her desires with Keith and Granger…I can give in to mine with Ash.
Chapter Twelve
Ash
“Your skin is so fucking soft,” I growl out, my hands touching her, stroking her, caressing every inch of her beautiful body.
I’m no saint. I’ve been with my share of woman. The fucking video is proof of that. But I can’t remember the last time I was with someone when I was stone cold sober. When the need was driven by more than just getting off. I want Ember in a way I didn’t know existed. And it scares the fucking shit out of me. Because this thing between us ends one way - me leaving.
I pull back slightly and search her eyes. “You’re sure you want this? You know this can only be—”
She presses her fingers against my lips. “I know what this is, Ash. I don’t expect anything from you.”
Her words should satisfy my concerns, but they leave a hole in my chest, because there’s a part of me that wants her to expect more from me.
But when she arches toward me, her arms wrapping around my neck, my mind refocuses on the only thing that matters - her, in the moment, and making sure she doesn’t leave this room until all her needs are satisfied.
I kiss her, and she opens up to me. My tongue slips over her lips, giving in to the hunger, the voice in my head warning me that this won’t end well, drowned out by Ember’s whimpers.
She’s completely naked in front of me, and I’m still in my jeans, the thick denim chafing against my hard erection. Ember reaches for my belt, unbuckling it, but I stop her befo
re she can undo my jeans.
“Not yet,” I murmur against her lips. I know the second they’re off, my self-control will be gone, and I’ll need to bury myself inside her. “We’ve got time,” I tell her, lifting her up and placing her on the bed. “I want to enjoy every inch of you.”
She whimpers when I press her knees apart and lower my mouth to the inside of her thigh.
“Ash.” She gasps when I cup her pussy, my thumb stroking her clit. I stroke the inside of her thigh with my other hand watching her writhe beneath me.
“God, you’re beautiful.” The words sound more like a growl even to my own ears. Primal. Feral. And I know this is more than just sex. It’s a claiming. A part of me marking her as mine. Or maybe it’s her making the claim, because I know I’m not walking away from her unscathed.
I need to keep my emotions reined. But it’s fucking impossible. Not when I glance up and catch those golden-brown eyes watching me. Something in my chest snaps, a feeling too intense to give name to.
“Please,” she begs, arching her hips against my palm, squirming under my touch.
I chuckle. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
“Make me come.”
I obey. My fingers stroke, and rub against her pussy, penetrating just enough to make her beg for more, to have her whimpers filling the room, only drowned out by the music that’s blaring through the speakers.
Thank God for that. Because her cries get louder. I lick at her clit, her juices coating my tongue, my cock aching to fill her. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, her hips jerk, and I know she’s close.
“You’re so wet, sweetheart,” I groan.
Her eyes are wild, her cheeks flushed, her breath coming out as little pants as she grips my hair. “Ash.”
Fuck. I have to fight for control or I’m going to end up coming in my jeans like a hormonal teenager. But I don’t want to stop tasting her. The sensation of denying myself for her own needs is an agonizing pleasure.
My fingers are saturated with her juices, and I pull back, then thrust inside her again, deeper and faster until she’s crying out, slipping over the edge. I push her thighs farther apart, my tongue lapping at her juices as she explodes in pleasure, back arching, body trembling, her response almost violent as the orgasm rips through her.
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