Heart of Ash (16 page)

“He has unplumbed depths,” Kaitlin insisted, and a flood of gratitude rose in Emily’s breast. God bless Kaitlin.

“He does. I mean, he has walls…”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Right? But I see something in him. Something worth knowing. Something special.”

Everyone around the room nodded thoughtfully.

Except Bella.

Bella threw her hands up in the air. “Am I the only one who can see this guy is an ass?”

“Bella. It’s not your story,” Kaitlin said gently and that shut Bella up. But, Emily suspected, not for long.

Tara shrugged. “You got a guy you really like who, according to some reports, can be an ass. But he’s stepped up to the plate enough to apologize and ask for another chance—”

“You give him another chance,” Kaitlin said.

Bella muttered under her breath.

“That’s not the problem.” Emily blushed. Now that she was having this conversation, she wished she’d never brought it up. How mortifying was it to ask your best friends how to seduce a man? She had no experience with men, save a hurried tryst involving a copious amount of maple syrup in a rustic cabin and some desperate fumbling in a glass studio. She had no idea how to proceed.

“What’s the problem?”

Emily folded her fingers together. “He…wants to prove himself to me.”

Kaitlin pursed her lips. “Prove himself?”

“He…um…wants us to take things…slow.”

“Ah,” Tara murmured. “The old Lysistrata.”

“The old Whatsistrata?” Bella asked.

“No sex.”

“No sex?” The others screeched.

Avery frowned. “We are talking about Ash
Bristol
, right?”

“He is very determined to be a perfect gentleman. And I…well…I…”

Mel winked. “You want a little something-something?”

“I just don’t know how to show him I’m ready.”

“You could just tell him you’re ready.” Tara suggested.

Emily pouted. “I tried. I don’t think he believed me. So, what do you recommend guys?”

“Seduction.” Tara offered gleefully.

“I’m hardly a seductress.”

“I think you underestimate yourself,” Kaitlin said with a smile.

Tara plucked a kitten from her shoulder. It immediately crawled back up.  “Men are notoriously easy to seduce. All you have to do is wear sexy underwear.”

“And give him a blowjob.” This from Mel.

Avery nodded. “Better yet, give him a blowjob
in
sexy underwear…”

Emily tapped her lips as she considered these suggestions. She certainly wanted to try pleasuring Ash the way he’d pleasured her in the cabin. But thinking up things to do to Ash’s body wasn’t the issue. She was able to think those things up on her own. “What if he resists my advances?”

“He’s not in his right mind.”

Emily frowned at Avery. “Seriously. I need a plan.”

“If he gets all chivalrous and shit, you need to tease him until he simply cannot resist,” Mel advised.

“Wait,” Jamie said. “Didn’t he also offer you the opportunity to punish him?”

Avery sat up straighter. “Oh, do tell.”

Emily flushed. She didn’t want to make Ash suffer. It wasn’t in her to punish anyone.

Tara cracked a mischievous grin. “So punish him.”

“Now you’re talkin’,” Bella crowed. “Make him pay.”

Tara glared her down. Tara hated being interrupted when she was hatching a vengeful plot. “Punish him in the worst way a woman can punish a man.”

Jamie tipped her head to the side. “Talk during football?”

“Not heinous enough.” Tara dumped a coterie of kittens off her lap and went to the table to refill her wineglass. She waggled the bottle at Emily. “Are you sure you don’t want some wine?”

Emily and Kaitlin shared a glance. Emily shook her head. “No. I… My stomach’s been upset lately.”

Tara shrugged and upended the bottle. “So, let’s see…how can we punish Mr. Ash Bristol?”

“You should punish him…
sexually
.”

Emily’s pulse stuttered. She gaped at Mel. “I-I couldn’t.”

“Oh, yes you could.” Tara chuckled. She turned to Avery, seeking support. Which she found. They were both devious to the extreme.

Avery stood too, and began pacing the room. Always a bad sign. “You really want this guy?”

Emily swallowed. “Yes.”

“You want him to really really want you?”

“Y-yes.”

“You want to make him crazy? So he can think of nothing and no one but you?”

“Um…yes?”

“Do you want him on his knees before you begging?”

Oh dear. That was going a tad too far. “I just want him, Avery. That’s all.”

A glint shone in Avery’s wide, innocent, baby-blue eyes. They were misleading, those eyes. Avery was a man-eater, plain and simple.

“Trust me, honey,” she said. “If you follow my plan, that boy won’t know what hit him.”

Chapter Fifteen

To Ash’s surprise, on Monday Emily called him up and asked him out for their next date. It excited him, because it meant, perhaps, he was making headway in his wooing. If she was engaged in their relationship enough to plan a date, that meant she was seriously considering forgiving him.

 He smiled to himself as he drove over to her house, wondering what kind of date she might plan. Something romantic and sweet, probably. A ride on the Ducks. A tour of the Seattle Underground. A dinner cruise… He scuttled that idea. Dinner cruises were expensive and she was a teacher.

Bowling maybe?

She met him at the door looking beautiful in a black cocktail dress and shiny pumps. He swallowed the drool collecting in his mouth and handed her the daisies he’d brought and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

Probably not bowling, based on the way she was dressed.

Curiosity rose, but was quickly overwhelmed by something else entirely. When she set her hand on his chest, gently, like a kitten, his pulse set up a manic tattoo. As she moved closer and closer still, her scent, her perfume, wafted toward him, enveloped him. Made him dizzy.

He drew in a breath, bringing with it her essence. God, she was beautiful. Tantalizing. Irresistible.

Had he really agreed to no sex?

What had he been thinking?

She put her hand on his nape and went up on her toes. Her lips parted. He ached to taste her. Couldn’t wait. He dipped his head so she wouldn’t have to stretch so far and—

Their lips met.

Electricity sizzled through him.

He’d never had a kiss that tasted this sweet.

Soft and supple, fragrant, sublime. Her mouth was a haven. He wanted to sink into her and stay there forever.

Fortunately, she did not seem inclined to end the innocent kiss.

He let her take the lead. He owed her. At least this much.

Torture though it was.

He longed to pull her close, deepen the kiss. Ravage her.

She deserved to be the one in power in this relationship. He just hadn’t realized how much it would cost him. She set her palm to his cheek and cradled him, tipping her head slightly to the side and—Jesus Mary and Joseph—dabbed her tongue into his mouth.

Holy God.

It took everything in him not to yank her against him, walk her over to the wall and grind himself to heaven. He fisted his hands, steeled his muscles and allowed her to continue her exploration. Which, to his utter dismay, took her over his chin and down to the crook of his neck. He shivered and shook in utter agony as her sweet lips nibbled and nipped. A suck here a lap there. A low moan.

His cock, already unruly and rampant, screamed for attention. It was a heavy weight between his legs, throbbing and aching and hungry for her touch.

But even now, even as adrift as he was, Ash knew, if she touched him there, he’d be lost.

He was an honorable man—when he chose to be. And he had given her his word. No sex until he’d earned her trust.

What the fuck had he been thinking?

She wrapped her arms around his neck and cuddled up against him, rubbing him in just the right way. He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes, trying to focus on keeping his hands to himself.

When she pulled away, something inside him wilted.

God, he wanted her.

“Are you ready for our mystery date?”

“And how. Where are we going?” he asked as he held the door for her.

Her wicked expression shocked him to the core. “We’re staying here.”

Gooseflesh prickled on his nape. He blinked at her. Several times. “Alone?” Was that a hint of panic in his voice? Definitely. Panic.

He didn’t think he could do that. Be alone with her and keep his hands to himself. It had been way too long since he’d had her.

A month was far too long.

He was weak. Vulnerable.

Hungry.

“Emily, I don’t think you understand—”

She cut him off. “Did you mean what you said? About making it up to me?”

“I did. I’ve been trying…” But hell. How was he supposed to control himself in her living room? Her kitchen? Her freaking foyer?

Doubt flickered over her expression. He hated it, so he forced a smile. “Yes. Yes. Emily. I meant it.”

“Anything I want?”

He gulped. “Anything.”

Her response was a gamine grin. How a woman with such a sweet innocent mien could appear so evil was beyond him.

“Then we’re having dinner here.”

His heart ker-chunked. They were utterly alone.

And they would not be disturbed.

Holt would not be glaring at them from across the room.

There would be no crowds to shoulder through. No waiters or waitresses to interrupt with an offer of coffee.

How on earth was he going to survive this?

He swallowed heavily. And nodded. “Okay.”

As she showed him into the dining room, where an elegant, romantic, table was set, he took in the details of her home. While it wasn’t a large house, it was perched on a hill overlooking Seattle. The décor was classy, elegant, simple. Chopin played in the background, masking the muted barking of her neighbor’s dogs.

The view from her bay window was stunning, the city lights reflecting off the waters of the Sound.

It was so…
her
.

Perfect for a girl who liked to stare at water.

Despite his trepidation, dinner was delightful. They talked and laughed through the meal, both of them completely at ease. Well, perhaps not completely.

Every once in a while he would remember how alone they were. How close she was, how very eager she was, the lilt of her eyes when she came…and a simmering unrest would ferment in his bowels.

She seemed similarly effected…every once in a while. She would shoot him a glance and a flush would creep up her cheeks and she would lower her lashes and nibble her lower lip and, occasionally, lace her fingers together. He assumed it was nervousness.

Hell, he was nervous.

He didn’t seem to have any trouble devouring the meal though, a delicious standing roast with Yorkshire Pudding.  And then she brought out an incredible burnt crème. If he hadn’t thought her the perfect woman before, he surely did now.

When he’d finished the last bite, he tossed his napkin on the table, gusted a sigh and looked at her. And froze.

Her expression made him restless.

“Emily?”

“Did you enjoy your dinner, Ash?” A shy smile.

“Yes.”

“Are you ready for…dessert?”

He glanced at the burnt crème. Or what remained of the custard he’d inhaled.

“I…ah… Yes?”

A flush crept up her cheeks. Her lashes fluttered. She cleared her throat. “Good. Because there is…something I’d like to try.”

The tone of her voice set his nerves humming.

“Wh-what is it?”

“Do you trust me?”

He stared at her. Did he trust her? Yes. But she was a woman scorned. God only knew what she had in mind. And he had invited her to punish him…

Hell. It didn’t matter, did it? He’d agree to anything she offered. Anything at all to be with her.

“Yes.”

“Excellent.” The glint in her eye sent a raging wildfire through him. And then his heart skittered to a halt. Because she pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

Oh, they were covered with fur and all pink and shit, but they scared him to death.

Holy God.

His pulse pounded. Sweat beaded his brow. His cock rose.

 “What-what are those for?”

“I think you know.”

Shit
. He did.

He wasn’t sure if he should be excited as hell—or run.

“I’ve decided on the punishment you keep suggesting.”

He watched in stunned silence as she dragged a chair to the middle of the room and waved toward it. “Sit.”

Damn. That tone…

He’d never, in a million years, ever imagined Emily as a Domme, but that tone was definitely intransigent. He reminded himself that she was a teacher. And teachers were proficient at intransigent tones. And probably punishment.

“Emily…”

She shot him a look. And fuck. There it was again, that flicker of self doubt, a painful fragility. He never wanted to see that on her face. Ever. Instinctively he knew if he passed on whatever she had in mind, if he denied this chance with her, there would never be another.

And that was not acceptable.

So he crossed the room. And sat. He watched her warily as she circled him.

“Hands behind your back.”

“Emily…”

“Hush now, Ash. You promised.”

He bit his tongue. And put his arms behind the back of the chair, trying very hard not to wince as the handcuffs clicked shut around his wrists. He couldn’t resist testing them. Yeah. They were tight.

“Where did you get these?”

“Avery lent them to me.”

“Avery Warner?” He gulped.

“Mmm hmm.” She traced his shoulder. A shiver walked up his spine.

“How-how do you know Avery?” He’d been to several of Avery’s parties. Wild didn’t begin to describe them.

“Avery and I are old friends.”

She came around and stood before him. He felt vulnerable and warm and very, very aroused. He hadn’t had a release in a month—he’d been holding out for her—and the need for it clawed at him. It occurred to him, just then, how idiotic his vow of complete abstinence had been.