Ashes - Book 1 (4 page)

I look at the siblings and then back at the water. Damn, those two have been through hell.

Much older than Ken, Hannah ran away from their Ohio home when she was barely eighteen years old. When he was old enough, Ken found her and then moved to Vegas to stay close, even though she’d refused to see him.

Turns out she’d been dragged into the sex trade with promises of riches and power. It’s not girls like Hannah that get rich turning tricks. It’s their owners, their pimps. The working girls are just pulled in a swirling vortex they are never able to swim away from.

But Hannah did.

Against all odds, Hannah found the strength to leave that life, and she did it when she realized her brother needed her help. Since that day, Ken has done everything he could to help her stay clean and happy. He even bought her this little house, and I’m teaching her how to repair it so she can flip it in a couple years, buy something nicer. But from the way she’s talking, she might live in the cottage forever.

I start paying attention to their chatter when I hear Hannah say Beth’s name. Then I realize she’d asked me a question. I had no idea what she asked and don’t want her to have to repeat it, so I just nod in agreement, hoping for the best.

She laughs. “Did you even hear the question?”

I have to confess. “No, not really. Sorry, zoned out on you for a few minutes.”

“Totally okay. I was saying that Stephanie and Beth are coming over in a little while. Beth said she has a bunch of furniture in storage that she’ll give me if I want it.”

Ken and I look at each other and, at the same time, said, “Blue sofa?” Referring to the hideous monstrosity Beth’s mother forced onto her when she was living in her own apartment. When she moved in with Stephanie, she almost sold it, but stored it instead.

“Yes,” Hannah gushes. “It’s gorgeous and I can’t believe she’s giving it to me. I offered to pay for it, but she refused. The girls are coming over to look at the cottage and see what all will fit. Then, when the floors are done, will you guys help move it in? Maybe sometime next week? I’ll pay—“

“No,” Ken interrupts. “You won’t pay, and yes, we’ll help move you in, won’t we, Gage?”

I grin at his sister. “Only if your asshole brother buys better beer.”

An hour later, we’re nearly finished scraping and I hear the doorbell chime inside the house. I straighten, knowing Beth is on the other side of that door. She isn’t here to see me though, and might not even know I’m here.

Pulling my sweat covered shirt over my head, I dip it into the pool and use it to wipe my face and cool off. I grab a water from the cooler and down it in two gulps.

Shit. Why the hell am I nervous?

I grab a fresh shirt from my bag and am pulling it on when the patio door opens and she’s standing there.

“Hey,” she says, also looking nervous as she steps outside. “It’s really looking great out here.”

I look around and notice Ken is missing. What the fuck? “Yeah. Shaping up nicely. Hannah should be ready to move in soon.”

Beth nods and her sunglasses fall down her nose, revealing those gorgeous, light brown eyes. She laughs and pushes them back up. “I’ve got to get a new pair.” She points at them. “These got a little warped in the… the…”

“Crazy day from hell?” I finish for her.

She laughs. “Yeah, that pretty much describes it.”

I hate this. The tension between us. I don’t even know where it’s coming from. We’re friends. We fuck. We laugh. We move on. Neither of us should be looking at the other as if we were going to bite. Or worse, as if we were strangers making polite conversation.

“Heard the blue couch is getting a new home,” I say, looking for anything to talk about. “Sure you won’t miss it too much?”

She wrinkles her nose. “I can’t believe Hannah loves it like she does.” She pushes her sunglasses onto her head and takes a step closer to me. “I will miss the memories of it.”

Snapshots of the two of us having sex on it filter through my mind. Before my brain can stop my mouth, I ask her, “Want to re-create some of those memories on mine?”

She steps closer, close enough to press a hand on my chest. Even in those damn high heel wedge things she’s wearing, she barely comes up to my shoulders. She looks up at me. “How about tonight?”

My cock twitches, once again holding court over my brain. If I were smart right now, I’d say no, or make her wait. I’d tell her I’d call, then not.

But fuck it, I want to sink into her warmth, feel her flexible body wrapped around mine.

“One condition,” I tell her.

Her finger traces down my chest and circles around my naval. “What’s that?”

I lean down close, nuzzling my lips in her hair. “We can hang out tonight if I get to eat that sweet pussy all I want.”

Chapter 4 – Beth

Pulling into Gage’s driveway, butterflies dance in my stomach. They’d been doing that ever since he’d whispered in my ear. I’ve been on fire since that moment, anticipation burning through me. Need. Desire.

Pushing open the door of the Jeep, I jump down and reach for my bag, wincing as the weight pulls at my sore shoulder. We didn’t talk about me spending the night, but I’m coming prepared. Just a change of underwear and a toothbrush. It’s not like I’m moving in.

I hear the front door open and turn to see Gage step onto his front porch. Damn it. Why did he have to be so damn fine? He’s not the most handsome man I’ve gone out with; he’s way too rugged looking for that. But, wow, he draws women to him. I see the way they look at him anytime we’re anywhere together.

From the beginning, I knew he was a player. He basically said as much himself. It was perfect. I liked to think of myself as a player too. I’d go out with who I wanted, when I wanted. Walk away when I wanted. Freedom. Not answering to anyone. Not being told what to do. That’s my goal. Total freedom to do anything I want.

I know I’m not the only woman Gage is seeing. I know he was out on a date just last night. That’s how I want it, both of us free to see others. I try not to think of what he does with them. Or if he likes it better than what he does with me.

Stepping onto the porch, I’m greeted with a mimosa. I sniff it. Watermelon. Yum. One of my favorites. “You know, you don’t have to get me drunk,” I tell him with a grin, after taking a long sip. “I’m absolutely, positively, without any doubt gonna have sex with you tonight.”

He grins back, the dimple on the left side of his face showing, making me want to sink my tongue into it. Good heavens, this man is adorable. He’s wearing khaki shorts and a tight fitting ‘fire me’ t-shirt. His feet are bare and his hair is still wet from his shower.

Opening the door for me, he lifts the strap of my bag from my shoulder and I wince as the weight on it changes again.

“Hey now, are you hurt?” His long fingers probe the muscles there. He ushers me inside, closing the door, and sets down my bag. “Come here, let me see.”

Sighing, I shrug down the peasant top I’m wearing so he can see that side of my back.

He whistles. “Damn, Beth. Has anyone looked at this?” His fingers explore the huge bruise that covers most of my shoulder blade.

I nod. “Steph did and Doc Whitfield did too. It’s just bruised and sore. It’ll be fine soon. Promise.”

Gage growls deep in his throat. “That mother fucker, he’s—“

“Dead,” I finish for him, pushing the word out in a rush. I take another sip of the mimosa while Gage probes the muscle in my upper back. I know better than to tell him to stop. He’s a fixer. I’ll let him pretend he’s fixing me.

“We can hold off on tonight if you want, give you some time to heal.”

I turn around and look up at him, shaking my head in a very slow no, no, no. “I want this. I want you. Tonight,” I say and his nostrils flare while the olive of his eyes grows even darker.

He pushes the hair from my face and then runs his fingers down my neck, curling it around my throat and lifting my chin. We stare at each other, our breath mingling together in the space between us. “I want you too,” he finally says.

His phone beeps, breaking the spell. I step back, vibrating from the lust I’m feeling while he pulls it from his pocket. He looks at the screen and sets it on a table without replying. It’s one of the other girls he’s seeing, I can tell. Rather than pretend I don’t know, I ask him playfully, “Which one was that? Shelly? Rebecca? Grace?” I toss back the rest of my drink and set the glass on the table.

“Danielle, actually, Miss Nosey,” he says, taking long strides in my direction. I take a step back, then another. Then one more. When my back is to the wall, he stops, pinning me against it. “She’s pissed that I cancelled on her tonight.”

I swallow, eyeing him closely, feeling myself grow tense. “You cancelled for me? Why?”

He grins and that damn dimple reappears, causing me to forget why I was beginning to feel upset. It is part of our rules: friends with benefits; date anyone else we want; no emotional shit; just sex and good times. Having him cancel his other date feels like too much attachment.

His hands slide from my upper arms, to my waist and around my back to cup my ass. He lifts me until we’re nose to nose and my legs are wrapped around his middle.

“Because I want to do this.” He touches his lips to mine before turning and walking us to his bedroom. He lowers me to the floor and pushes the wide collar of my blouse down my arms before unhooking my bra. “And this.” He bends his head and takes a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, scraping me with his teeth. He finds the button on my shorts and unfastens them, pushing them down my legs. I kick them to the side and I’m naked except for my shoes and panties.

He makes a noise deep in his chest as his eyes skim down my body. “More than anything, I want this.” He hooks his thumbs in my panties and pushes them down as well. My stomach tightens as he picks me up and carries me to the bed.

“I can walk, you know.” I laugh as he lays me on the mattress. He seems to have a thing about carrying me around.

“Yeah, I know. It makes me feel like a cave man.” He lifts my foot and unties the strap of my wedges, kissing my foot and sucking a toe into his mouth. I squirm as his teeth cause my nerves to dance.

“Brute.”

His dimple makes another appearance as he unties the other shoe and then forces my legs apart.

“Mmm… do you know how beautiful you are?” he asks and I wiggle under his intense gaze. I try to close my legs, but his hands move to my knees and presses them to the bed. His fingers move up my inner thighs, traveling at maddening slowness.

“Please…”

“Please what?”

“Please don’t make me wait.”

“Wait for what?”

My hips arch as I think — imagine — the words I don’t say out loud.

His fingers move further up and then follow the crease where my legs join to my hips. I groan, needing his fingers to move the other way.

“Tell me what you want.” His fingers trail over my hip bones and meet just above the thin line of my pubic hair.

“Your tongue. I want your tongue,” I breathe out and lift my hips, willing him closer.

He pulls me to the edge of the bed, until my ass is nearly hanging off the side. His hands circle my waist and he looks at his fingers. “You’re such a contradiction, do you know that?”

I stare at him. What? He wants to talk … now?

“You’re so tiny, yet so strong.” He places a hand on my stomach and spreads his fingers. “Look at this, my hand is bigger than your waist, yet I’ve never met someone so powerful. You barely weigh a hundred pounds, yet your force of will could take down mountains if you wanted.” He grins at me. “Until I do this …”

He lowers his head and invades me with his tongue, pulling me down harder to his mouth. Pleasure explodes as his teeth graze my clitoris and his tongue sinks deep into my folds.

I moan and cry out his name, clutching the bed covers, anything to ground me. He licks and sucks and bites, moving lower and circles my anus. Yes, oh God, yes. He’s eating me alive.

A finger invades me, followed by a second as he sucks my clit into his mouth. He pumps his fingers, hard and deep, twisting them as he does.

I’m there, so close, every cell inside me is tightening. I press my heels into his shoulders as he drives me to the edge.

Then he stops.

“No!” I cry out in disbelief. His fingers are still inside me; I try to ride them, try to force them to continue. He chuckles, the bastard, and begins to move them again. Slowly. Too slowly. I cry out in frustration.

“What do you want?” He curls his fingers and finds that spot deep inside me. I pulse up from the bed and he strokes me again, making my eyes roll back. “Is this it?” He strokes me there again. I shudder from the contact.

“Are you ready to come?”

“Yes. Please.” The words come out in pants.

“You’re so wet, so ready for me.” He removes his fingers and places them in his mouth. I’m mesmerized as he licks his fingers clean. “So sweet. Perfect.”

“Gage, please. Fuck me.”

He stands and pulls a condom from his pocket before unbuttoning his shorts. Then he pulls the shirt over his head, his muscles flexing and contracting with the movement.

I sit up and hold out my hand, wanting to be the one to roll on the condom. I grin up at him. “I saw this in a movie and been dying to try it.”