Heart of Ash (5 page)

“I usually sleep on the left.”

“O-okay.”

He whipped out the blanket. She watched it billow, trying to calm the sudden churning in her belly. He tossed two pillows onto the head of the bed.

Two. Pillows.

It hit home then.

He would be sleeping there. Next to her.

Her pulse surged. “Sh-should w-we put something b-between us?”

“Like a sword?” His expression could have been scorching, but it was difficult to tell because it was hooded. He smiled. A casual smile, but she noticed the tense lines around his mouth. He was probably as nervous as she about all this.

“Th-that’s what they did in the olden days.” The chivalrous knights.

“I don’t, ahem, have a sword.” And then he murmured something that sounded like,
“Not that kind of sword,”
but she couldn’t be sure.

She scouted the room for something. Something that would create a barrier, make her feel safe. Which was stupid. He was a decent guy. He’d kissed her once, and it had been a wonderful kiss, but he hadn’t pounced upon her or grabbed her or backed her into a corner. He hadn’t said or done anything even remotely sleazy. Still, when her gaze landed on the broomstick in the closet, she let out a gusty sigh. “This.” She grabbed the broom, arranged it on the bed, right in the middle and then glanced at him.

His lips quirked, as though her whimsy amused him. He nodded. “Perfect.” He yawned. “Are you ready for bed?”

“No.” She didn’t mean the word to come out that sharply, but the prospect of crawling into bed with him, broomstick or not, petrified her.

“Okay. How about a game of cards, then?” He pulled a deck from a drawer in the end table and shuffled.

“What would you like to play?”

He shrugged. “Poker?”

She wandered to the table by the window and sat. “I don’t know how to play poker.”

“Perfect.”

She grinned at his expression. “How about gin rummy?” His face fell, but it was such an overblown pout, she knew he was teasing her.

“Oh, all right.” He dealt the cards, then poured them each another tin cup of wine.

They played for a while, chatting and sipping their wine. It was a pleasant evening. He was a charming companion, asking her about her life as a teacher and chattering on about television shows and movies they both liked. They had several favorite restaurants in common and even had a few mutual friends.

He reached for the bottle and refilled her glass, but when he went to refill his own, the bottle was empty. “Shall I open another?” he asked.

Emily nibbled her lip. She loved this cozy, contented feeling. She knew it came from the rich, buttery merlot, but she didn’t think she should have any more. However, she didn’t want this to end. Not yet. “Sure.”

He practically sprinted across the room to the pantry, coming back with another bottle. They continued to play and drink and talk until the fire died down. He tossed on another log and stretched.

“Well,” he said. “We should probably turn in.”

“Mmm hmm.” She fought  back a yawn. When she stood, she teetered and grabbed the back of the chair for balance. “Oh my. I think I drank a bit too much.” Her chuckle stalled in her throat as she caught his look. It seemed almost…predatory. Then he blinked and that friendly countenance was back in place. She must have imagined it. “I…ah…think I need to use the facilities.”

Other than a grunt, he didn’t respond. He occupied himself smoothing the blanket on the bed and fluffing the pillows.

When she emerged from the bathroom, and saw him already in bed, under the covers, dismay claimed her. Heavens. How was she going to do this? How was she going to fall asleep next to him? Her instinct for survival would not allow it.

But there was more to it than that with Ash. With Ash she felt a draw, an urge she’d never felt before.

It tasted like…temptation.

With Ash, she wanted the intimacy she’d eschewed for the entirety of her adult life. Sure, it still scared her, the thought of being with a man like that, but she wanted it.

She craved it.

That scared her too.

She contemplated grabbing a pillow and a blanket and curling up on the floor, despite their broomstick negotiations, but decided not to. She wouldn’t want him to think she was some kind of weird woman. Besides, he was very definitely on his side of the bed. His shoulder rose and fell in an even pattern. Perhaps he was already asleep?

Why her mood dipped at the prospect was a mystery.

When she perched on her side of the bed, he rolled over.

“Are you going to take your overalls off?”

She glanced at him. “I-I wasn’t going to.” The fabric was still damp at the cuffs, but the thought of sloughing off her armor was terrifying.

“Might be uncomfortable, sleeping in them.” He winked. “I promise not to look.” He covered his eyes.

She giggled, because he was being silly, and unhooked one strap and then the other. If she’d been wearing a bathing suit, he’d see more, she told herself. “Are your eyes closed?”

“Mmm hmm.”

She stood, shimmied the overalls off and draped them on a chair by the fire. When she turned around, his eyes weren’t closed, or covered. He was watching her.

“You promised not to look.”

He grinned. “Have I mentioned I’m a liar?”

Why this confession made her laugh, she didn’t know. Probably because she didn’t believe him. He was so cute. So funny. And, she had to admit it, she was tipsy. Okay, maybe more than tipsy.

She lifted the covers and slipped into the bed, being very careful to perch on the very edge. Holding herself as rigid as she could, she laced her fingers over her tummy and studied the ceiling. The flickering light of the fire illuminated the room in a soft glow. It wasn’t hot. It certainly didn’t account for the warmth rising on her cheeks.

No, that was due to his intent gaze. He propped up on his elbow and stared at her.

Like a frightened doe, she flicked a quick peep at him, and then looked away.

“Emily.” His voice was dark, deep.

“Yes, Ash?” This, she chirped.

“You are so beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She winced. Damn it. She’d spent her whole life living within a strict code of behavior. Politeness, so deeply engrained in her, did not allow her to stray.

“I…ah… May I kiss you goodnight?”

Her pulse fluttered. Her attention snapped to his face. His lips were alluring, full. She’d loved that first kiss he’d given her. Barely been able to stop thinking about it.

One part of her brain cautioned she should say no. They were alone. In a remote cabin. In bed. Surely allowing a kiss, in these circumstances, would be tantamount to an invitation for more.

But this was Ash.

The most handsome, charming, sweet fellow she’d ever met. She felt a connection with him. A connection unlike any she’d ever felt with a man.

She steeled her spine and levered up. She intended it to be a quick peck, but when their lips touched, when she tasted his breath and felt the damp heat of his mouth, she couldn’t pull away.

Chapter Five

Yes. Yes. Yes.

She was kissing him.

Lust snarled in Ash’s gut. It had been snarling there all fucking night, but now it rose to a howl. It had been torture, sitting there, chatting with her, putting her at ease, when all he’d wanted to do was pounce. Pull her into his arms, entice her into his bed, and make crazy passionate love to her.

But he’d known. He’d sensed her reserve. So he’d gone slow.

Okay, the wine had been a douche move, but he’d given her plenty of opportunities to say no. And she hadn’t. And now she was kissing him.

Ash changed the tenor of the kiss, slowly nudging it into something far sultrier. Seductive.

She murmured, moaned. Her fingers skated along his nape and into his hair. He shuddered as she lightly raked his scalp.

Damn, she was sexy. Everything about her was sexy. When she’d slipped out of those overalls, revealing a flowing shirt that fell nearly to her knees, his cock had twanged painfully. Even dressed like that, she was irresistible.

“Emily,” he edged closer, pulling her against him. Something prodded his belly. The ridiculous broomstick. He fumbled for it, wrenched it away, tossed it to the floor.

Her lips moved—perhaps in protest?—so he dabbed his tongue into her mouth. She whimpered a little. Held him tighter. He turned her head and made his way over her cheek to nibble on her neck. She sighed. He stroked her breast, thumbed a nipple. It was hard. A thick, swollen bud. Even through her bra. She cried out and pushed into him, curling a leg over his hip, sealing them at the groin. His cock jerked.

Yeah, she was reserved. Yeah, she had a cloak of propriety wrapped firmly around her. But beneath the surface lay a deeply passionate woman.

He fumbled with the blanket until he found the soft smooth skin of her bare thigh. He shuddered as he edged up and up. Cupped her ass. Damn, she had a fine ass. Curvy and firm. Supple. He’d suspected it, but it had been impossible to tell through her thick overalls.

He slid beneath the elastic band of her panties, over that sweet flesh, and squeezed.

She made a tiny sound and wriggled.

He nearly lost consciousness. She felt so good in his arms. So fucking right. And she smelled like heaven. The heady combination of jasmine and arousal made his head swim. “Emily,” he moaned. “Emily.”

Swallowing heavily, he unbuttoned her blouse with his free hand. It took a while because the buttons were so damn small and it was a weird angle. But he persevered, rewarded with a glimpse of a lacy bra and the deep shadow of her cleavage. His fingers on her ass involuntarily tightened. Shit. Shit. She was amazing.

“God.” He yanked out of her panties, though it nearly killed him to do so, and laid her back, cupping her breasts with both hands. Her bra had a front hook, thank God, which he deftly worked. And those glorious globes spilled out.

“Ash…” He disliked the hint of reproach in her tone, so he ignored it and took one pink crest into his mouth, and sucked. She cried out, a warble of delight, so he did the same with the other. He went back and forth, exploring, tasting. “Ash…”

No reproach now. The word sounded more like a plea.

He eased a palm down her abdomen and over her stomach, coming to a halt over her warm mound. Every one of his muscles clenched. She froze as well.

He raised his head, captured her gaze, and slowly traced her cleft. She gasped. Tiny tears dewed her lashes. “Ash,” she breathed. And she arched up. Just a tiny lift of her hips, and in doing so, her nether lips parted. Through the lace of her panties, he traced her clit.

Her body quivered. She groaned, then cried out.

He’d been with a lot of women. He knew the signs. If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d just come. He stroked her again. And again, through the rough material, circling her nub, reveling in the cream soaking through, soaking her. Soaking him.

God, his cock ached. He wanted her, wanted in, with every fiber of his being. Madly, he fumbled for the condom he’d set on the end table. He ripped it open and slipped it on, all the while rubbing her slit and sucking her nipples. She writhed beneath him, which made him mad with lust.

When he was ready, he pulled the blankets off and pulled down her panties. He shuddered when he stroked her clit again, skin to skin. She was soaked. Fucking soaked.

Trembling, he levered over her, spread her knees with his and set his cock to the mouth of her cunt. Her heat scalded him. Maddened him. “Emily,” he groaned, and pushed in.

His heart seized. Goddamn, she was tight. Almost too tight.

“Ash?” she murmured, cupping his cheek. “Ash?”

He stilled, ensnared by her expression. “Yes?” A whisper.

“Be gentle.” As she spoke the words, the folds of her cunt, clinging to the tip of his cock, undulated, sipped at him and he nearly lost his mind. “Oh yeah,” he growled. “Gentle.” And he thrust.

There was a little resistance at first, a rigid ring of muscles at her entrance that inflamed him, but once he was past it, he filled her with an effortless lunge. She jerked; the undulations of her folds sent prickles of pleasure dancing up his spine.

Holy fuck. He closed his eyes against the bliss of her slick, taut embrace. He’d been hungry for this, aching for this for hours.

He pulled out and thrust in again. And again. Colors danced on the inside of his lids. Shivers shimmied through him. Agony seethed at the base of his balls. He gritted his teeth in an effort to hold back. It was too good, too damn good to be over so quickly.

She grunted and lifted her knees, cradling him. “Yeah, oh yeah,” he rumbled and sank deeper. He pressed her breasts together, burying his face between them and drawing in her scent.

“Ash…”

He thumbed her nipples, gave them a tweak and, liking her response, did it again. He played with her, toyed with her as he worked in and out of her excruciatingly firm grasp.

He glanced at her. The tears he’d noticed earlier now tracked into her hair. Her lips parted. Her pupils dilated. God, she was gorgeous like this. Beneath him, gazing up at him. While he was buried in her depths.

His cock surged. The burn of cum boiling to erupt seared him.

But he wanted her to come too. Come with him.

He reached down between them and thumbed her clit. She cried out, clutched at him, scored his shoulders with her nails.

“Yes.” He liked that.  She did it again as he sank deep one last time. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

And he erupted.

Scalding insanity flooded his heart, his mind, his soul, as he emptied into her in wave after rushing wave. A surge of peace, of bliss, of serenity filled him. He nestled against her neck and huffed out a  laugh.

God. She’d been magnificent.

Emily lay motionless, though Ash’s weight on her was becoming uncomfortable. She stared up at the ceiling as she waited for his breathing to return to normal.

So that was it, she thought. That was all it was?

She shouldn’t have this sense of disappointment. Really, she shouldn’t. She’d probably built it up in her mind as this great transcendent sharing, some spiritual melding that left both parties irrevocably changed.