Read Money Shot Online

Authors: Selena Kitt,Jamie Klaire,Ambrielle Kirk,Marie Carnay,Kinsey Grey,Alexis Adaire,Alyse Zaftig,Anita Snowflake,Cynthia Dane,Eve Kaye,Holly Stone,Janessa Davenport,Lily Marie,Linnea May,Ruby Harper,Sasha Storm,Tamsin Flowers,Tori White

Money Shot (39 page)

 

Ashton led me through a maze of corridors, rooms, and sitting areas. I’d need a map to find my room later. As confusing as it was, as unsure of everything as I felt, one thing kept me grounded.

 

The feel of his hand in mine.

 

The certainty. The connection.

 

I could do anything if he believed in me. Maybe even forgive.

 

I followed behind him, trying to keep my eyes off how gorgeous his butt looked in the tight white shorts. His long, powerful legs. The way his broad back stretched his white collared shirt. His jet black hair, as deep as any ocean, as soft as any cloud.

 

I thought for the millionth time about our promise to wait until we were married. Part of me was pissed about it. I wanted him between my legs. Inside me.

 

But he was right. We should wait. I’d waited my entire life to feel a man inside me. Ashton was worth waiting a little longer for.

 

That assumed his parents agreed. Which was a bigger-than-a-super-yacht-sized assumption.

 

We approached an older man dressed in a smart naval uniform. The man stood in the middle of the hallway with arms outstretched. Ashton’s dad. He looked different than I recalled from the articles I’d seen online.

 

“Ashton, great to see you, son” he said.

 

He wrapped his long arms around Ashton and picked him up in a bear hug. His lanky limbs were a lot stronger than they appeared.

 

Ashton landed on his feet and hoisted his dad up in the air. They both laughed like boys on the playground.

 

Mr. Barclay didn’t seem so horrible. Not the harsh patriarch that Ashton sometimes made him out to be. Not the evil bankster who stole my childhood home.

 

Thank God.

 

Maybe meeting his parents wouldn’t be the horror I imagined. Maybe it would be easy. Natural. Maybe I’d fit right in and get over it.

 

Ashton lowered his father to the ground.

 

“You must be Ms. Dunn,” he said. “Ain’t you a looker. Curves for days on this one.”

 

My skin burned. I was used to people noticing my curves, but the attention wasn’t always positive. I held out my hand.

 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Barclay,” I said.

 

He laughed, a deep boom that echoed down the hallway. Ashton grinned.

 

“I wonder what your old man would say to that, eh?”

 

Ashton laughed.

 

Something didn’t add up. There was a joke passing around and I was the only one clueless about the punchline.

 

“My name is Dr. Oliver Fox, the ship’s physician,” he said.

 

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

 

He glared at my cleavage.

 

“Pleasure’s all mine, ma’am,” he said.

 

Ashton punched his shoulder.

 

“Keep your eyes in your head, old man,” he said.

 

“Old man? Why I still got enough youth in me to take you for a round or two.”

 

He was looking at me.

 

I thought he was talking to Ashton. But he was looking at me.

 

I didn’t know what to say. So I stayed quiet.

 

“So you keep reminding anyone who will listen,” Ashton said.

 

Dr. Fox turned to Ashton. He thumbed at the door at the end of the long hallway.

 

“Your old man is waiting,” he said. “You know he doesn’t like to wait.”

 

He turned back to me.

 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Dunn,” he said. “I hope to see you later.”

 

He slapped Ashton on the shoulder and took off down the hall. He walked with an easy comfort I envied. He was totally at home, in a place that was not his home.

 

“Is your dad like that?”

 

“At times,” he said. “When you catch them at the bottom of a fine brandy, swapping tales of their time in the Navy.”

 

“Have they known each other long?”

 

Ashton laughed.

 

“From their first breaths, according to legend.”

 

“He seems a little off.”

 

“That’s an understatement,” he said. “Anyone that can make my father smile has to be out of the ordinary. Speaking of. Time to meet the patriarch of the Barclay family and fortune. Have your shark gloves on?”

 

“Not funny,” I said.

 

“Who’s joking?”

 

Chapter Three

 

We continued down the hallway and came to a closed door of polished, dark wood. I could almost see my reflection in it. Somebody put a lot of work into keeping that thing shiny. Something told me it wasn’t Ashton or his parents. We’d only run into Dr. Fox so far, but guaranteed there was an army hidden away somewhere.

 

I couldn’t imagine how many people were required to run the largest luxury ship in the world, but I figured it was a lot.

 

Ashton turned and looked me up and down. His eyes stopped at my ample bosom.

 

“I’m a fan,” he said, “a big one. Dark blue on you brings light into my life. But it’s a little, revealing, up top. I don’t think they would approve.”

 

He fastened two additional buttons. The light cotton dress squeezed my chest together. It wasn’t too tight. That wasn’t my style. Anything I wore was tight around my bust, hips, and butt. If it wasn’t, the middle and legs would be like wearing a trash bag.

 

I was a woman. And thanks to Ashton, I felt beautiful for the first time in my life. I wanted to be beautiful for him.

 

“They’re going to hate me,” I said. “I’m too working class for them. I won’t know how to act. This isn’t going to go well. We should leave. Ash, I can’t do this. I’m not ready.”

 

He cupped my cheek. His tender green eyes made the world fade.

 

“Remember, ignore father. He’s not likely to be won over anyway and he doesn’t matter. Turn your charm on mother. Get her approval and she’ll drag father along.”

 

“You’re not exactly filling me with confidence.”

 

“Don’t worry, Charlie,” he said. “She’s stodgy and conservative, but you’ll win her over with a smile. Just as you did me the first time we met.”

 

“I accidentally spilled beer all over you,” I said.

 

“Yes, let’s skip that with mother,” he said.

 

“Very funny,” I said. It was sarcastic, but the truth too.

 

“Don’t let them rip me apart,” I said.

 

I didn’t say to not let me rip them apart either.

 

“You’re tougher than you think, Charlie,” he said. “You have a strength in you to do anything you set your mind to.”

 

“My mind is set on kissing you,” I said.

 

It really was.

 

He was talking. And I
was
worried. Way more than I cared to admit. But it was his lips. His lips moving, opening and closing, revealing straight white teeth and the hint of tongue deeper in.

 

I wanted his tongue deeper in. In me.

 

“Kiss me, Mr. Barclay,” I said. “For all I know, it may be our last opportunity.”

 

“Don’t say that,” he said.

 

I don’t know if he pulled me, or I jumped at him, but the next moment was filled with his mouth on mine. His firm, full lips on mine. Our lips fit perfectly. Our tongues did too.

 

I slid my tongue into his mouth and slid over his tongue. I bit his lip and sucked it.

 

Heat blossomed in my belly, and lower. The thin cloth of his shorts did nothing to hide the size behind them. My belly felt his enthusiasm grow.

 

His hand cupped behind my head and he forced his mouth onto me, his tongue into me. My breath came in ragged gasps.

 

I slipped my hand up under his shirt, traced the deep grooves of the slab of granite that was his stomach. He was all hard lines and I was all soft curves. We were a perfect match. A union of opposites in every way. We fit like two puzzle pieces that completed the picture.

 

My hand dipped lower, inside the waistband of his shorts, and lower still. I gripped his thick shaft and pulled.

 

His hot breath blew into my lungs. Filled me with his passion. We’d never had sex, but that didn’t mean we were prudes. I wanted to suck his cock right there. Draw his passion out and swallow its salty bite.

 

“Oh God, Charlie,” he said. “I love you so much. I want… I want.”

 

He pulled away and stared into my eyes. I stroked him softly, not able to stop myself. His eyes smoldered, mirroring my own.

 

“What do you want, Ash?”

 

I bit my lip and squeezed my shoulders together, knowing my breasts were throwing off miles of cleavage, even with two additional buttons fastened.

 

“I want to marry you,” he said.

 

My hand froze, following the rest of my body.

 

“You do?”

 

It was the most glorious assemblage of five words in the history of the human language. I wanted the same thing. Wanted it more than anything else in the world. Except for maybe revenge.

 

My heart broke. It was too filled with warring emotion. It shattered like a building demolished so new ground and new structures could grow.

 

He was mine. I was his.

 

“Yes, Charlie,” he said. “I do. You are the love of my life.”

 

He leaned down and kissed me deeply. My body wouldn’t move. The shock of his declaration like a dreamy drug coursing through my veins.

 

We were perfect together. Nothing could come between us.

 

And then the brown, polished door opened on hinges oiled into silence.

 

Chapter Four

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