Chapter Three
Sadie
Jake’s announcement winds around my throat like a boa constrictor. I sneak a glance at my father and feel like throwing up because he looks too damn thrilled.
More like ecstatic.
But what arrows me through the heart is Ash. I watch, frozen in this twilight zone of a reality, as he leaves the room with a look of disgust and anger tainting his handsome face.
I want to call out to him. I want to tell my father and Jake they can shove this absurd marriage idea up where the sun don’t shine. I want to do something.
I need to do something.
Instead, I do nothing.
My heart is beating too fast, threatening a panic attack. Voices swirl around me. More congratulations, followed by intrusive questions.
Have we set the wedding date yet?
Are we going to have a traditional church wedding, or something less extravagant?
Will the ceremony be intimate, or on a level that’s newsworthy?
The whole time, I refrain from arching incredulous brows. But on the inside I’m screaming are you fucking kidding me? I never even said yes. Fuck, he never even asked.
Unable to take any more, I break away from Jake, ignoring his protests and the disapproving eye of my father, and go after Ashton. I leave the din of voices behind and enter the hall to find him leaning against the wall, arms crossed and head down. I spare a glance behind me, but my father and Jake are both distracted by the praise and attention of the dinner guests. So is my mom. She’s got the hostess persona down to a science, and her face is glowing as people congratulate her on her daughter snagging such a good catch.
I might barf after all.
Drawing in a deep breath, I move toward Ashton. “Please don’t be mad,” I say, coming to a stop in front of him. “You know how my father is.”
He lifts his head, and I’m taken aback by the fervor in his ice blue eyes. “You just let them walk all over you, Sawyer. I don’t understand it.”
Cheeks flaming, I dip my head. “Bad habits die hard, I guess. But there’s no way I’m getting engaged to Jake. It’s not happening.”
He points in the direction from which I just came. “Then go tell them that.”
“Not now, Ash.”
“When? On your way down the fucking aisle?”
His caustic tone makes me flinch. “Of course not.”
“Come here, Sadie.” His heated gaze pins me to the spot, and my lungs work extra hard to pull air in. He raises a hand and crooks a finger. “Now.” The undeniable command in his tone has my feet eating up the space between us. He takes me by the chin and whirls us until my back is against the wall.
“What are you doing?” My voice trembles too much in his presence lately and now is no exception.
“I’m debating.”
“Should I be scared to ask about what?”
“Yeah, I think it’s fair to say you should be scared.” He reaches to the right of us and turns the doorknob on one of the house’s many bathrooms. A small push later, and it swings open. “I’m going to make you come right here in your parents’ fucking house, with your new fiancé just a few feet down the hall.”
I clamp my lips shut. Arguing with him is futile, considering how his words just soaked my core. I press my thighs together to keep from dripping down my legs.
“Do you have any objections?” He lifts a brow, and I’m positive he can smell my arousal pooling at the apex of my sex.
“My only objection is that you took my panties.”
His mouth tilts into a grin. “Are you worried you’ll soil your parents’ spotless floor?”
“Maybe,” I say, breathless.
Hoisting me into his strong arms, he carries me into the dark bathroom. The door closes behind us, and I detect the unmistakable sound of the lock clicking into place.
Ash doesn’t bother turning on a light. A streetlamp shines through the frosted window, providing just enough illumination to make our way to the counter. He lets me slide to my feet, and I sense his lips hovering close to mine, can hear his heavy breathing and feel the heat of it on my face.
“How far did you go with that jerk?”
“Not far.”
“Not a good enough answer, Sawyer.” His arms cage me in, and his chest brushes my hardened nipples. I can practically taste his lips.
“What do you want me to say? You already know we didn’t sleep together.”
“Did you go down on him?”
“Ashton, please.”
“Tell me. Did you suck him off?”
“No! I mean I tried once, but I…”
“You what?”
“I couldn’t do it.” For fuck’s sake. He should already know this by now, considering he agreed to teach me.
“Did he touch you?”
“Yes,” I say, not liking his possessive tone.
“Where?” He brings his hands to my breasts and flicks his thumbs over my hard nipples. “Did he touch you here?”
“Y-yes.”
Slowly, he trails a hand down the front of my dress and grasps the hem. “Did he put his mouth on your pussy?”
“Uh-huh,” I mumble as his hand disappears under my dress. He’s rendering me incoherent.
His finger draws a shiver-inducing path up my wet slit. “Did you come?”
“No.”
“I like that answer very much.” The scruff along his jaw chafes my cheek, and more warmth floods my core. We’re too damn close.
“Did he kiss you?”
“Yeah,” I say, the word little more than a sigh.
“God, Sadie. I want to kiss you.”
And that’s when I know it’s going to happen. Maybe not now in this bathroom, or even later after we leave. But eventually, we’re going to cave.
I’m going to cave.
He moves his lips to the corner of my mouth, and my vocal cords freeze. I want to tell him to stop, but all I manage is a choked moan. He veers to the sensitive spot below my ear, and sharp disappointment rips through me. The next thing I know, he’s grabbing me by the ass and lifting me onto the counter. Something crashes to the floor and shatters, but I can’t bring myself to care about my mother’s perfectly staged home, or how inappropriate our behavior is.
Nothing matters but Ash’s hands as he shoves my thighs apart. “Kissing is against the rules, so I guess I’ll have to put my mouth someplace else.” As he pushes up my dress, he drops to his knees.
“Ash!” I can do nothing but grip the counter as he drags his tongue straight down the center of my slick pussy. My poor excuse of a dress bunches around my hips, and his fingers dig into my inner thighs, keeping me spread wide open for his hungry mouth.
Oh God.
This might not be the first time someone’s eaten me out, but it is the first time I’m not too self-conscious to enjoy it. It’s the first time that everything around me fades, save for the strokes of Ashton’s tongue.
The wet heat of his lips lightly sucking.
His tongue circling my clit.
His hot hands on my flesh, demanding I submit to his mouth.
I let my head fall back, and a whimper escapes my lips. My skin is feverish. No, it’s blazing several degrees past an inferno. My nipples tighten. My limbs tremble, and I can’t hold them up anymore. Ashton grabs my legs and hauls them over his shoulders.
I catch the glint in his arctic gaze. It’s a look of power and ownership, and I have no doubt that I am his in that moment.
“Try not to make too much noise,” he says, mouth tilted in a cocky smile as he lowers his head to the needy apex of my sex again. Pumping his fingers in and out of me, he flicks his tongue back and forth over my clit, launching me so high that I can’t breathe.
“Ash…” I moan. My head is swimming, and there’s nothing but stars behind my closed lids. I’ve never felt so vulnerable and exposed in my life.
So fucking out of control.
Cries wrench free of my throat, and he smothers my mouth with a hand just as someone knocks on the door.
“Sadie?”
Jake. Dammit. He’s the last person I want to intrude upon this moment.
“Are you in there?”
Ash lets loose a displeased growl against my clit, and the vibration of his lips sends me over the edge. Even though Ashton’s warm palm muffles my cries, I’m positive Jake can hear every uncontrolled moan.
For a few seconds, I don’t care.
For a few liberating moments, nothing matters. It’s just me and Ashton and his talented tongue driving me insane between my thighs, working my body to perfection for what seems like forever.
Until the last wave of pleasure soars through me.
“You taste so fucking good.” Ashton licks me clean before rising to his feet. He removes his hand from my mouth, and we’re face to face again. The nearness of him and the smell of myself on his lips yanks me from the ethereal plane of existence he sent me to. I slam back to reality, my mind hitting concrete.
How the fuck are we going to get out of here without Jake knowing exactly what we were up to?
“Jesus Christ, Sadie. I can’t wait to get my cock in your mouth again.”
“We can’t,” I say, still breathless.
“Not here, I know.” His words heat my collarbone as he runs his lips over my skin. “I want you in my bed, taking your time with that sweet mouth of yours. We’re going back to my place after dinner, and I’m going to enjoy watching you bob on my cock.”
“Ashton?”
“Hmm?”
“How are we gonna get out of here?”
“Walk out the fucking door?”
Jake knocks again, his deep voice calling my name. This time, he tries the handle.
“He’ll know.”
Ash veers back, and even in the dim light, the scowl on his face is unmistakable. “I don’t give a fuck who’s out there. You brought me here as your date, so who cares if your ex catches us fooling around?”
There’s no way I’m going to make him understand. And maybe he’s right, because part of me doesn’t understand this feeling of shame crawling over my skin either. How did things become such a mess?
I’m not in the wrong here. Jake is the one who cheated. So why do I feel guilty?
“I just don’t want him knowing,” I finally say. “What I do isn’t his business.”
“You’re right about that.” Ash pulls me off the counter, and I barely have time to straighten my dress before he hauls me to the door. I dig in my heels.
“No! Ashton, stop.”
“I’m not hiding in the dark with you, Sadie.” With that, he unlocks the door and yanks it open.
Jake takes one look at us—our laced hands and the flush that is undeniable on my cheeks—and his eyes go wide.
“Did you need something?” Ashton asks Jake.
“Unbelievable.” Jake darts his gaze between Ash and me. “Are you doing this to get back at me?”
The fact that he even thinks I’d do this because of him digs under my skin. “Not everything is about you.” I pull on Ashton’s hand, desperate to get away from this hallway and the accusation in Jake’s eyes.
As if I have anything to explain.
We return to the sitting room, as my mother refers to it, and guests have begun to trickle through the open French doors leading into the formal dining room.
And I’m certain I have a sign on my forehead that reads just got eaten out in the bathroom by hot, perverted friend.
Jesus, my face is flushed. It feels like a hundred degrees in my parents’s house. I let go of Ash’s hand and make a beeline for two open spots at the other end of the table from where my father usually sits. My legs are shaking as I dip into the seat. I shoot a glance at Ashton as he slides in next to me, hating him in that moment for making me a nervous wreck during this dinner.
He leans down, lips lingering near my ear. “Just breathe. We’ll be out of here soon.” Under the table, he takes my hand and squeezes, and any trace of anger I harbored toward him vanishes.
This is the part of Ashton I love.
Love.
That word sticks in my mind like a fly to a glue trap, just buzzing there, trying to break free. My heart thuds to the bottom of my gut, and I know I won’t be able to eat much—not with this disturbing, dawning realization that what’s going on between Ash and me is growing into something bigger than I imagined.
Something terrifying.
Something out of my control.
“You look like you’re about to be sick. Want me to get you out of here?”
Yes. More than anything. But the promise of my father’s watchful eye isn’t the reason my head is spinning. Ashton is, with his husky voice in my ear, his fingers locked with mine, and his woodsy scent infusing my senses.
His quiet ability to infiltrate my heart despite me trying to stop it.
“No, I’m okay,” I say as Jake enters the dining room. His stare is thunderous as he takes a seat across from us.
With a sigh, Ash lets go of my hand. But he sets his shoulders in determination as if he’s preparing for a war over a battlefield of gourmet food. And maybe he is, considering he and Jake are locked in a death stare of epic proportions.
My father makes his presence known at the head of the table, and the tension breaks. Jake turns his attention to my dad, his face washed free of the glower that lived there a second ago.
“I’d like to thank everyone for coming tonight,” my father says. Servers make the rounds, handing out flutes of champagne. After everyone has their celebratory glass, my dad clears his voice.
“JJ came to Sawyer and Bennett five years ago green behind the ears.” He pauses, letting out a gruff laugh. “What he lacked in experience, he certainly made up for with his competitive drive to succeed. Law is in his blood, and we’re fortunate to have him onboard. To JJ,” my dad says, his voice thick with emotion as he raises his glass.
The toast echoes around the dinner table, but I can hardly speak. Something about my father’s speech scraped at the scabbed-over scars on my heart.
He’s never once been that proud of me.
Hurt burns behind my eyes, and I blink a few times to keep the tears at bay. No way in fucking hell am I going to cry in front of these people. To mask my fragile emotional state, I take a long sip of the bubbly.
It’s as bitter as I feel, and the fizz nearly chokes me.
Just like my father’s speech did.
A hand lands on my thigh, and when I tilt my head toward Ashton, I find him studying me with those keen blue eyes of his. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. His support is there in the warm weight of his palm, the pinch of his lips, the tiny furrow in his brows. His gaze darts to my father for a second, and I swear, if looks could kill, my father would be on the floor right now, bleeding out from Ashton’s sharp anger.
I cover his hand with my own, silently thanking him for being here for me. But the air shifts between us, and he inches his hand up my thigh, making my body tingle with heat. My fingers tighten around his, trapped in indecision.
Part of me wants to push him away. The other part wants to urge his touch higher. My legs part by an inch, my body making the decision for me. I don’t resist when he drags the hem of my dress up.
Our gazes crash together in a fatal collision of longing. I’m lost, tumbling around and around in the ether regions of this endless loop of a moment.
Ashton draws his bottom lip between his teeth as he slips his hand between my thighs, the warm pads of his fingers stroking me. There’s promise in that touch, threat in the heat of his eyes, power in his mere presence.
The unforgiving line of his jaw is a reminder of passion and punishment to come.
Jake’s scowl catches my eye from across the table, and suddenly, I know I’d take Ash’s punishment any day over the charade playing out in this dining room. I’ll bare my ass for Ashton as long as he wants if this damn dinner will just end already.