Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Why do I feel so disappointed?
“You know I’d never hurt you, right?”
Not physically, but emotionally?
“I have eyes, Ash. You break hearts for a living.”
“Are you saying I have the power to break yours?” He seems too interested in the answer to that question.
“I’m saying you’re one of my closest friends. I don’t want to risk losing you.”
“I can be your friend and still be…more.”
I read between the lines of his words. Experimenting with him will be safe. He won’t hurt me, won’t judge, and he won’t expect anything more. He isn’t the settle-down-in-a-relationship type of guy.
And that’s the problem. I don’t know myself well enough to know if I can play around without getting my heart involved. The thought of risking what we have, of allowing our friendship to go into turbulent waters, is terrifying.
It’s about as unsafe as you can get.
Deep down, I know I’ll only grow closer to him through the act of intimacy. And after he walks away, I’ll want to tear out the heart of the next woman he brings into his bed. It doesn’t matter that she won’t spend more than a few weeks with him. Doesn’t matter that he’s open about being a manwhore of epic proportions. That’s a line that isn’t worth crossing.
I open my mouth to say thanks but no thanks.
“Okay.”
But that comes out instead. Why does my mouth keep doing things that will get me in trouble?
He sucks in a breath. “Are you sure?”
No.
“I trust you.”
“Before we do this, I need you to know something.”
“Okay,” I say, dragging out the word with caution.
“I like to be in control.”
“What does that mean?”
He leans forward, planting a hand on either side of my body, and invades my space in a way he’s never done before.
Like he owns the air I breathe. Like he owns me.
“It means I call the shots.”
I blink, stunned. Ashton’s never come across as the dominating type. Okay, well maybe a little. He’s always been super protective of his sister and me when we were kids. Truth be told, he still is. And now that I give it thought, he never asks for what he wants. He doesn’t have to since he always makes his intentions clear from the get-go. He carries himself with confidence that borders on cocky.
Unless you know him like I do.
Like I thought I did. His words from last night drift back to me, untainted despite my drunken state at the time.
You couldn’t handle me.
One look into his eyes steals my breath. The curve of his lips steals rational thought. The firm set of his jaw steals my will. Against my better judgement—against the warning staccato beat of my heart—I hurtle from everything that’s safe and familiar and boring.
“You call the shots. Got it.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah, I get it, Ash.”
“Okay then. It’s settled.”
“So…” I despise the way my cheeks flush under his scrutiny. “Where do we go from here?”
He takes my chin between two gentle fingers, his thumb stroking my jaw. His touch sparks something inside me—an ember longing to blaze. It takes everything I have not to let my eyes drift shut and just feel. A small sigh escapes my lips.
“We go where I take us.”
Now I do close my eyes. This is too much. Things are shifting too fast. I’m still the same girl I’ve always been, only now I want to drop to my knees and tear at his zipper. And I want him to teach me how.
A long stretch of silence passes. Or maybe it’s short and just feels like minutes instead of seconds.
“Look at me,” he says, the softness of his voice lifting my lids. “If you want to pleasure a man, the first thing you need to learn is how to pleasure yourself. Do you touch yourself?”
I jerk back, alarmed by such an intrusive question.
He won’t let me retreat. “Eyes up here, Sadie,” he commands, and that’s when I realize I’m staring at his strong jawline. “Answer me.”
Holy shit, this side of him both scares and thrills me. What sort of avalanche did I set in motion last night in my drunken stupor?
“I…sometimes.”
“Have you ever gotten yourself off in front of a guy?”
He’s so matter-of-fact with these questions, we might as well be discussing the ways one could prepare dinner.
“No.” I try to shake my head, but his hold on my chin won’t allow it.
He seems to consider that for a second. “I want you to get up, shower, and dress. Lying around in bed until noon isn’t going to help your hangover.” He finally lets go of me and stands. Parting my lips, I allow a tiny breath of relief to escape. But then he tugs on the blanket. With lightning quick movements, I grab hold at the last second, refusing to let go.
“I’m not dressed.”
“We’re gonna have to go over some ground rules, beginning with your modesty.” He steps back and lets go of the blanket before gesturing at me with a sweeping hand. “You’re gonna be naked in front of me soon enough, so a T-shirt and panties is nothing. Get up. Now.”