Ashes - Book 2 (New Adult Romantic Suspense) (4 page)

Read Ashes - Book 2 (New Adult Romantic Suspense) Online

Authors: Leslie Johnson

Tags: #new adult romance suspense erotica

“I was seven and we’d gotten into a terrible fight that day. I was trying to play with my soldiers and she kept doing things like singing and moving my men around. Just anything she could think of to irritate me.”

Beth curls herself into a tighter ball and I feel a shiver run through her. I run a hand down her leg and feel the goose bumps that dot on her flesh. She’s cold and is on top of the blanket she covered me with. I keep my house like an icebox during the night.

I rearrange us until she’s under the blanket and we’re both lying on my couch, her back to my front, my arms curled around her small frame.

“What happened?” she prods gently and I sigh. I might as well tell her.

“Like I said, we fought that day. I got punished. She didn’t, of course. Mom was taking her to the mall to get an Easter dress and I stayed home, grounded, in my room. It was the last time I saw her.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Yes, it was. Nobody would tell me what happened, just that she’d gone to sleep and went to live with the angels. But I overheard stuff and learned that she’d somehow pulled away from Mom and ran into the road and was hit by a truck. They’d already been shopping and Mom had bought her an Easter dress. It’s what they put on her for the funeral. It was white…”

Beth gasps, connecting the dots. “Like the women…”

“Yeah. And she had a flower in her hands. A pink rose I think.”

Beth turns until she’s facing me. Her head is on my arm and we’re nose to nose on the narrow sofa. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine how terrible that was.”

“Yeah, it sucked. My last words to her were that I hated her. For me, that was the worst part. The next worst part was that my mom insisted it be an open coffin funeral. She kept screaming that her baby couldn’t be in the dark. I remember the funeral people telling her she really shouldn’t, but she was hysterical.” I blow out a breath. “They were right. It should have been closed. But they relented and it was horrible. Gabby had stitches across her forehead and up her neck and jawline. I remember thinking she looked like Frankenstein dressed up like a little girl.”

Beth’s hand strokes up and down my back.

“Long story short. Life went to shit after that. My dad blamed my mom for Gab’s death, said she wasn’t paying close enough attention. He drank a lot before she died, but afterwards, he drank almost constantly. They fought horribly until they, thankfully, divorced when I was a freshman in high school.”

“What happened to you?”

I laugh, a punch of sound that is completely without humor. “It’s weird. Gabby died, but it was me who became a ghost. Mom still cooked. She still cleaned the house and stuff like that. But there was no joy in it. She just sat around and stared at the wall most of the time. So I just kind of skulked around and started doing my own thing when I was old enough. She remarried the biggest son of a bitch who ever walked the planet earth and I left home as soon as I was able.”

“Do you ever see your parents?”

“Naw. Not much. My mom a couple times a year. Haven’t seen my dad in years. Not sure where he is.”

“I’m so sorry, Gage. I wish there was something I could do.”

I pull her close and her body melts into mine. I’m glad she’s here, I realize. Really glad.

Most of the girls I date don’t stay more than a few hours. Almost from the time I met Beth, she would stay all night. I like it. Friends with benefits isn’t always about sex. I like the way Beth is so damn strong but also so caring. How tough and soft she is at the same time. She’s not like all the other girls who just tell you want you want to hear. Beth tells it straight, whether you like it or not. She doesn’t simper. She doesn’t complain. She doesn’t bat her lashes or play games.

She’s real.

And warm. And soft.

My body responds to the feel of her pressed so close to me. I know she has to be tired and sore. I know I am. But, dammit…

The hand on her back slides down to her ass and I pull her against me. She responds instantly, her hand sliding to my neck and she presses her lips to mine. She still tastes like toothpaste and smells like soap and shampoo and I realize her hair is still damp from our shower earlier. I must have been only asleep for an hour or so before the nightmare hit.

I deepen the kiss. Deepen the closeness, sinking my tongue into her mouth. Hers curls with mine and her fingers fist into my hair. She presses her pelvis into my belly and I feel the heat of her there.

I roll and pull her onto my chest so I can use both hands to play with her ass. She’s not wearing panties, only my t-shirt which has risen around her waist. I cup her ass, digging my fingers into her skin and she groans, kissing me harder.

Grabbing the hem of the t-shirt, I tell her to sit up. She does and I pull the shirt over her head.

She’s straddling my belly, fully naked, her glorious olive skin shimmering in the light of the lamp I always leave on. Her dark hair curls around her shoulder and falls forward, over her small breasts. They’re beautiful; perfect mounds with small nipples that tighten at my touch. I always thought I was a big tit guy, but as I sit up and close my lips around one of them, I realize that hers are the closest I’ve ever seen to perfection.

Her hot pussy is pressed against my cock and I can feel how wet she is already. It would be so easy to slip inside her, lose myself in her warmth.

Fuck.

I need a condom. I don’t do bareback and neither does she. I don’t want to be tied down with some kid, much less a wife.

I groan and move us to the edge of the sofa. My muscles scream at me as I lift her, but I don’t care. She wraps her legs around my waist as I carry her to the bedroom.

She laughs when I toss her onto the bed and she bounces twice before sitting up and scooting to the edge. Then I’m in her mouth … her hot, greedy mouth … and she’s sucking me into her throat, her tongue licking as she suctions hard. Fuck.

It takes everything inside me to stop myself from thrusting hard, over and over. I stand perfectly still and just absorb the sensation of her lips and tongue and now the hand that’s gripping me.

God. She’s gotten me so wet and now she’s jacking me hard. Every muscle inside me responds. Then I’m back in her mouth and I look down, watching my dick disappear and reappear. Her hands are on my ass, fingernails digging into my skin. I could come right now, deep into her throat. I want to. Need to. But fight it.

Hell no. This isn’t over with yet.

I push her back on the bed and drop to my knees, pressing her legs apart. Her pussy is as beautiful as the rest of her. Soft pink, nearly hairless, glistening with her arousal. I watch her hands palm her breasts and her back arches as I kiss the inside of her thigh. Then, her fingers move down her belly and between her legs and I watch her circle her clit. Damn, that’s so sexy. I have a front and center view of her pleasuring herself.

My turn. I pull her closer to me and dive in, my tongue sliding between her folds.

She cries out and tries to twist away from the intensity of what I’m doing to her. I grin and pull her back, opening her legs further apart and take her clit between my teeth, sucking and pulling at it as I slide two fingers inside.

“Ahh,” she cries out, bucking her hips as I find that spot deep inside her. I love how responsive she is, no inhibitions as she presses herself harder into my face. I finger her hard, then slow, then fast again.

I feel her tighten around me, hear her breathing growing ragged. She’s going to come; she’s just a few strokes away. I give them to her, slamming my fingers into her hard and deep and she unravels around me. Her cries and moans are like music. The muscles clamping around my fingers almost painful. She writhes and grips the sheets, arching her back. Her mouth opens, her eyes close. Her cum face is so damn sexy.

The power, the heady satisfaction of making a woman come is so intense. It’s the greatest gift. But I’m not done yet. Even as she’s still quaking, her body shivering, I push her knees back to her chest, then press them wide open and dive in again.

I suck her clit, then her pussy lips and thrust into her with my tongue. Then lower, always lower, until I’m circling the nerves of her anus, feeling her unravel again. Up and down I lick and suck her.

“Please. Need. You.”

I need her too.

I stand up, reaching into the bedside table and grab a condom. A few seconds later, it’s rolled on. Beth’s still lying there, gazing up at me, her hands on her breasts. Kneading them. Pulling on her nipples. Her thighs press together, then fall apart.

She smiles up at me and holds out her hand.

A flash of uncertainty runs through me. She still wants me on top. I can’t fuck this up.

All day she’s trusted me, relinquished control, handed me the reins that she so carefully handles every day of her life.

“Please.”

The word is a whisper, but is loud enough to break me from my indecision. I crawl up the bed, between her legs, not stopping until my lips are on hers and I’m plunging deep inside her body.

She gasps and I push up to my hands, only our sex connecting, looking down at her.

Her eyes are soft and scared and trusting and worried. Every emotion possible combines in their brown depths.

She swallows and reaches up her hands, curling them around my neck and pulling me back down. Her legs wrap around me, her heels in my ass, her nails in my shoulders, her tongue on my tongue.

I sink down on her.

In her.

And slowly begin to move.

She’s so tight and wet, her pussy grasping at my cock, clenching around it. She mewls, throwing her head back and I bite her throat. Her ear. Her jaw. The angle is almost impossible, I’m way too tall, but I need to feast.

I thrust hard and our bodies smack together. I withdraw and thrust hard again. Over and over.

“Yes.”

Her fingers grip into my back as she lifts her hips to meet me. The angle changes and I’m deeper. Tighter. Impaling her. Plunging. Driving us both to the edge.

She cries out my name, her teeth sinking into my shoulder. I plunge impossibly harder and she screams. Her body tightens and clenches, shaking and pulsing. I don’t stop. I drive her harder. Pushing her. Pushing me. Never letting up.

My balls tighten, needing release and I feel my orgasm hit me from my toes up. This is explosive, primal, the very essence of need. I grit my teeth, not wanting this to end, but Beth works against me, sliding herself up and down my cock.

I feel my cum rising, flowing, racing from my balls and through every centimeter of my shaft.

“Yes!” I roar, thrusting hard, pounding, stabbing as my core bursts from me and into her.

She clings to me, shuddering, crying out. I’m dripping sweat, breathing hard, trying desperately not to crush her, but she won’t let me roll away. She wipes my forehead, pushing away the beads of sweat and pulls my face down to her.

“Thank. You.” The words come out in short burst, her breathing as desperate as mine. She pulls me down, unwilling to let me go and I surrender, melting onto her, pressing her into the mattress while she cries tears of joy.

Chapter 6 — Beth

The alarm goes off and I nearly throw it at the wall. Gage groans and I turn over, groaning too, sore as hell and twice as exhausted. Poor Gage. He has to go into work while I get to go back to bed.

“Morning beautiful,” he says and yanks me to him, his body as hot as a heater. I wish we could sleep, make love, then sleep some more.

Make love?

My eyes snap open. What the fuck is wrong with me? We have sex missionary style one time and I’m thinking like a damn love struck teenager? I sit up and slip from the bed, needing some space.

In the living room, I find the t-shirt Gage stripped off of me last night and pull it over my head and walk to the kitchen. The shower comes on and I’m so tempted to join him. But I grit my teeth and plant my feet firmly in the friend zone.

I fiddle with the coffee machine and soon have it brewing, then open the fridge and stare at the contents. I pull out bacon and a carton of eggs.

Friends can make each other breakfast, right?

Even after the emotional night with each other, it doesn’t change anything. Gage is still seeing other women. I know that. I want him to.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

I scowl at a frying pan as that nasty little thought comes into my mind. I crack open an egg, a little harder than I needed to, and end up having to fish little chunks of shell from the bowl.

I’m an idiot.

Okay. Maybe not an idiot. Maybe I need to hook up with someone else too. If I can have another guy or two on the side, then I wouldn’t be so focused on Gage.

I crack open another egg, more successfully this time. Then throw some bacon in the microwave to zap.

As I start to beat the eggs, I’ve decided that’s my new game plan. I need to stop working so much. Stop being a hermit when I’m not working. Go out. Have fun. Act my age.

Maybe I can talk Steph into going out with me to the new club everyone is raving about. Or Hannah. Or one of my other friends. Or all of them. Yes. That would be fun. A girl’s night out.

I’m feeling a little better by the time the microwave dings and the eggs are light and fluffy. The toasts pops up and I’m feeling pretty proud of myself.

“Smells wonderful in here.”

I turn around and he’s there and all my pride turns into a puddle between my legs. Dear God in heaven, the man is fine.

Towel wrapped low on his hips, I can’t stop my eyes from staring. I’ve seen his abs a hundred times now, but they are still fascinating. And they’re coming straight toward me.

“Hungry?”

His pupils dilate and his head nods up and down very slowly. Then he’s there, lifting me to the countertop, pulling my head to his.

His tongue and lips are everywhere. So are his fingers. Then my t-shirt is gone. He steps away and opens a drawer. I smile. Condoms everywhere. He slips it on then lifts me down from the countertop and turns me around.

“Trust me?” he asks in my ear and I shiver and push back into his erection.

I nod and he presses me down onto the countertop until my cheek is on the cool granite. He wraps his hands around my wrists and draws them behind my back.

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