SAM

How am I going to sleep after that? Ash naked and spread out over my mattress like she was, her fingers dipping into her tight hole and rubbing her swollen flesh until it was glistening with how wet she was for me. Getting herself off while I watched because I told her to. I march straight to the stairs, take them two at a time.

The moment she was done I had to get out of the room. My dick may as well be carved from marble, it’s that hard for her. I grit my teeth and bear the painful rub of fabric against it as I race through the kitchen and into the small room I keep as an office. She’s had this effect on me since she was seventeen years old. Well, not quite the same. This is something new. Not the way she touched herself, but the way she complied. She had me so close to giving in to what she’s wanted from me since she showed up two nights ago.

I can’t see straight by the time I kick the door shut behind me and yank down my pajama bottoms. My cock is heavy in my hands, my skin tight as I wrap my palm around the length and squeeze. That first stroke is torturous. Two days with Ash and I’m blue balled. Two damn days, and I’m jacking off in my office because there’s a girl in my bed who should not be there. I run my fist up and down my erection, pre-cum lubricating my hold. That’s better. Closing my eyes, I turn my face up to the ceiling. Ash is there behind my eyelids, touching herself for me. Just once doing what I asked. Her pale lips are parted and her eyes are locked on mine and she wants... this.

My movements slow for a second as I try to figure it out. She’s always wanted something from me. Wanted my help. Wanted me to save her. Or hate her. Or fuck her. But this... this was something else, and I loved every damn second of it.

I pump harder, encouraged by the image of her orgasming for me and the need in her eyes that was so much more than simple lust. It doesn’t take any more than that to make me shoot ribbons of cum into my palm. Afterward I tuck myself back into my pants and find some paper towel to clean up with. But I’m still upstairs in that room with Ash.

Wish I was at any rate, as I stretch out on the couch with my legs hanging off the edge. I miss the way she used to wriggle her ass into my crotch and take my hand and slide it inside her tank top before we fell asleep. As though she would always need more of me than I could ever give. She was okay then. Better. The best she’d been in years.

My chest hurts, and I rub at the ache that’s settling there. It doesn’t make sense. She was better when she left me. She was standing on her own two feet and ready to tackle the world. Nineteen and ready to conquer life. She hadn’t been on a bender since the night the police called me to collect her from lock up. Even when she came back for Dad’s funeral she mostly had her shit together. I was the one who needed her to fuck away the world for me and she did. Because I asked her to. Because I needed her to. I just couldn’t let her go.

Until I had to. I have to. I’m supposed to. For fuck’s sake, I’m trying here. My pulse gallops, makes my chest tight until it’s hard to breathe. It’s probably stress. Nothing but stress from Ash showing up. I get off the couch anyway. There’s no way I’ll sleep tonight and there’s plenty of paperwork for Sweet N Soul I could be doing instead of dredging up the past.

***

There are voices coming from the kitchen when I wake. Climbing off the couch, I massage the back of my neck and my right shoulder, which feels seized from the uncomfortable position I’ve found myself in two nights in a row. I unplug my phone from the charger and check the time. Still early. Probably still dark too. But normally I’m in the kitchen by now, prepping for the day with Ru before my run. Which means he’s one of the voices I can hear. I pocket my phone and open the office door.

“So you’ve been everywhere then?” Ru asks Ash as he works his knife through a mountain of bacon.

“No. Not everywhere.” Ash shakes her head before taking a sip from the giant white mug cradled between her hands.

It’s my mug she’s confiscated this morning. Probably with my coffee, just the way I like it. The way I taught her to drink it when she was studying for finals in high school. Double everything. I fall back against the doorway and drink her in. She’s up and showered and dressed. Her wet hair is combed almost straight down her back to where it’s always kinked an inch from the tips. The difference between yesterday and today is like night and day. I catch myself smiling at how quickly she’s started to pull shit together this time.

She won’t stick around. She’ll work out how to deal with the sex tape and she’ll be gone again.

She taps her fingers against the side of my mug while she lists the places she’s been. “Australia, Japan. Pretty much all of Europe and the UK. Thailand. Singapore. But not so much the Middle East.”

“So everywhere.” Ru sticks his tongue in his cheek as he waggles his eyebrows at her, the knife in his hand still moving with precision.

“As many places as I could go.” She sighs. “Now I guess I’m grounded.”

“So you’ll go home to L.A. after this?” He tosses most of the bacon into big metal bowls that we’ll use when we open for breakfast. The rest of it goes into a smaller bowl along with eggs and butter that he then starts to whisk.

“I don’t even know if my dad’s talking to me after... you know.” She glances at the wall where the stairs run out of sight, then fiddles with her bangs. I can’t see her eyes, can’t tell what she’s thinking. It’s hard not to walk over there and push them out of the way so that I can see what she’s trying to hide from Ru. “L.A.’s never been home.”

“You don’t change, do you, Mischief?” He chuckles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She pops her head up. “Sam said almost that exact same thing to me last night.”

“Did he now?” He pauses with the bowl in his hand. The sound of the whisk tinging off the metal ceases and then restarts. Is he surprised that I’m not completely blinded by her? I know who she is. Always have. That’s part of the problem.

“Yes, and clearly I don’t know what either of you are talking about.” She picks up something from the counter, a bit of eggshell or bacon and flicks it at him.

“Try to behave yourself.” Ru grins so wide, and I want to ask him if he’s sure he thought she’d get into trouble with me, or if he was kind of hoping it would be him. I take a breath and try not to roll my eyes at my own brilliance. No, Ru is only being friendly. Then his smile droops. “In all seriousness though, this isn’t your home.”

“I know that,” she says. “I do know that.”

I want to tell them they’re both wrong, but they’re not. How many times can one wish for something without realizing the impossibility of it?

“Do you? Do you also know he’s never going to tell you to leave, no matter how many times you push his buttons or in what order?”

“I’m not trying to push—” She starts to argue.

“Save it.” He puts a hand up to stop her from speaking while he puts a pan to the burner.  “You know it. I know it. He probably knows it, if the shit he used to let you get away with is any indication. And last night... I would have bent you over my knee and spanked your ass if you’d done that to me.” He shakes his head. “Go toss some bread under the grill.”

What the hell, Ru? I can’t believe he’d say that to her. Can’t believe he’d even think it would help. That’s not what she needs.  

Mouth agape, she stares at him like he’s sprouted another head under that mop of curls. “But...you...no.” She arches her neck and tucks her chin under as she tries to make sense of what Ru just said while she finally manages to reply, “You would not. No one has ever—”

“Maybe that’s the point,” he says. “No one ever taught you how to behave. Alone in that big house, with staff you could boss around...everyone just lets you get away with whatever you want. Now go on.” He shoos her. “We’re going to have to wake up the boss man in a minute and the least you can do is toast some shitty bread as an apology for trotting off to Mayhem last night and making him sleep on that damn awful couch in his office.”

“I didn’t.” She climbs off the counter and starts doing as he asks. “Okay, I did half of that, and I fully intend to apologize for it.”

“What are we sorry for?” I walk into the kitchen and pretend I didn’t catch any of their conversation. That I didn’t hear Ash practically call herself homeless. That Ru thinks I’m a damn pussy. That most of everything that goes on between Ash and I is meant to make me give up on her. Why the fuck would she do that? I rub my forehead right above the bridge of my nose, trying to reduce the tension swelling there.

Ash pauses at my voice, and then she tosses the last piece of bread under the grill. Without turning she glances up at me when I come up beside her, and there’s something shaky and uncertain about it. Like she’s just waiting for me to kick her out, or maybe she doesn’t know how to handle me for once, or she’s nervous. “I was just saying to Ru that I needed to apologize for my behavior last night.”

“What behavior was that exactly?” I ask not to be cruel, but because I’m curious over what she’s going to say, since apologizing isn’t typical for her.

“You know. Last night I was a bit of a handful.”

I wait for her to continue but she doesn’t. “Is that your apology?”

“Uh, yes. That’s pretty much it.”

I shouldn’t be taken aback by her inability to put her remorse into words. Growing up without her dad’s presence, with only paid help to teach her how to behave, means she doesn’t always have the tools to deal with situations the way she wants to. The way she should.

Or maybe she doesn’t regret her actions at all. She might just want to mollify me. Whatever it is, I need to know. How else do I work out whether to let last night go? God knows, I can’t deal with another evening like that.

Taking her elbow, I usher her toward my office. “You’ve got the toast, Ru?”

“Yep.” He continues cooking while I guide Ash into my office and shut the door.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“I thought it might be easier for you to find the words to apologize if Ru wasn’t listening in.”

“Are you serious?” She’s standing just beyond arm’s reach, pretending to study her fingers while watching me like she’s my prey and she doesn’t know which way to turn.

“As a heart attack.”

“That isn’t funny,” she says, horrified.

“I fail to see why you would think I’m making a joke.”

Her lower lip drops on a quick intake of breath, her eyes widen. “When have we ever not just forgiven each other? Without the need to actually say it?”

“Things change,” I say, or maybe they are changing. I can’t put myself through the same shit with her any more, even if I’m not quite ready to give up on her. I cross to my desk and lean against it, watching her. It’s the strangest sensation, seeing Ash quiet and indecisive when she’s normally so openly stubborn. “And I think I might need to hear something that actually sounds like you mean it. If you mean it, that is.” She bites her thumb thoughtfully while she studies me, perhaps trying to decide if she believes what I’m telling her. With a glance at the door, she takes a few steps toward me. “Ru’s probably still listening.”

“That’s possible.” I shrug. “Would it help if we went back upstairs?”

“No. Here’s fine.” She comes nearer. “This is really what you want from me?”

“Yes, Ash.” That is really what I want right now. One damn apology to let me know she wants my help as much as I want to give it to her. Something to let me know I’m not crazy for wanting to help her still.

“Well...” She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry I stole your vodka and disappeared on you, and I’m sorry that I danced on the bar and almost got you involved in a fight.”

“That’s all of it?”

“Uh, no.” She pinches the cupid’s bow of her lip so that I can barely hear her, and her cheeks turn pink.

I don’t need her to say it to be able to tell what she’s trying to apologize for. I don’t need to hear it to get hard again from that show she gave me. But I want to hear her say it. Out loud. I want to hear that she gives a shit when she toys with me and that it isn’t simply because she can. I want her to tell me that I’m not a sucker. She’s aware of the effect she has on me, but does she understand how deeply she gets to me?

Glancing at the door between us she rubs her lips together and then licks them. She must be worried about Ru, but I doubt he’s listening.

“Okay,” she tosses her hair and stares me straight in the eye. “I’m sorry I masturbated in your bed. Although you did seem to enjoy it.”

I want to tell her that watching her did nothing for me. I wish I could tell her there was nothing enjoyable about what happened last night, even while I’m practically panting with the desire to tell her to climb on my desk and not make a peep while she makes it last longer this time. I’m already semi-erect over the idea.

What I really want is for her not to hide from me the way she does with everyone else. I shake my head and grip the edge of the desk to keep myself from touching her. “Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”

“What? How can you say that? I said I was sorry like you wanted me to.”

“Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear, Ash.” I walk over and stand right in front of her. We’re so close, the tension vibrates between us. “Only tell me if you mean it.”

“I do though. Why are you being ridiculous about this?”

“Ash,” I warn her. I’m tired and sore from sleeping on the couch. I’m horny as hell because of her antics. And I’m this close to telling her I need her to leave.

Whatever response she had disappears as she closes her mouth and rubs her lips together. The tip of her pink tongue flashes between them and then hides away, teasing me. Her tits rise and then fall as she swallows hard and puts her hand on my bicep. “That’s what you really want?”

“Yes.”

“If I do will you give me what I want?” she asks, her voice husky with need. “Will you touch me?”

“I’m not going to touch you,” I say. I want to though, especially when she squeezes her thighs together, and I can tell she’s aroused by the idea that I might actually put my hands on her if she just does what I ask. I want to drag her closer by the drawstring of my sweats and slide my hand down the front of them into her panties and find out how wet she is.

“Sam.” She steps in so close I can see the faint outline of the straps on her bra underneath the T-shirt she’s wearing, and the traces of eyeliner still there from last night even after she’s cleaned up. She stares at my chest for a long while, until I can barely stand it. She’s so close I can’t expel a breath without touching her. And then she lifts her gaze to mine and whispers, “I’ll apologize.”

“Good,” I murmur, drifting one knuckle along the waist of the sweats she’s wearing and making her moan before I catch myself. Her skin is hot silk to touch, and I lose the ability to stay distant. One touch. Not sex. Not exactly giving in to her. But I’ve tried, damn it. I’ve tried to tell her that we don’t have this connection anymore. Tried not to feel it. “Then tell me.”

“You asked me not to push your buttons. You told me not to play with myself just to get your attention.” She drops her gaze to my chest for several breaths, before she squares her shoulders and looks me in the eye. “You asked me not to let you down, and I did.”

“You did,” I agree.

“I don’t want to.” She brings her hand up between us, hovers so close to my chest before letting it fall back to her side. “I don’t want to screw up everything with you. Like I always do.”

I don’t want to travel the same road with her either. I grip her chin in my hand and touch my fingertips to her lips. “We’re going to do things different this time.”

“We are,” she agrees.

“Good.” I push my fingers against her lips until she opens for me.

Eyes closed, she moans softly as she flicks her tongue against the pads of my digits and sucks two of my fingers into her hot, wet mouth. My dick twitches and grows hard. I want her on her knees, her mouth doing to my cock what it’s doing to my fingers. But I can’t let her get too close. I can’t get lost in her. How will I pick up the pieces?

She grasps my wrist as she pulls her mouth away from my fingers with a little whine. “Please, Sam. Touch me.”

The urge to do just that fills my chest like some feral thing I have no control over. My fingers tangle in her long hair, and I drag her mouth to mine. “Just this once.” Lips to lips, my heart pounds and I pour every ounce of willpower into not kissing her while I put my hand between her thighs. “I’ll touch you. Just this once.”

Her knees buckle as I palm her through her clothes, and she rubs her covered pussy against my hand. “Sam,” she cries. “Please. This isn’t enough. I need more. I need you inside me.”

“I can’t do that.” I groan as she grinds into my hand, her hips rolling as she starts to pant. Can’t fuck us both senseless the way she wants.

“But I want...” She goes quiet, her eyes growing huge as her thighs tighten around my hand, and then she grips my biceps, jerking and shaking as she rocks through an orgasm. “Oh shit.”

When she’s done I pull my hand from between her legs and adjust the bulge in my pants that I’m now going to have to put up with for who the hell knows how long, until it deflates.

“I thought you and I were going to fuck,” she says, her gaze bouncing around the room and never quite landing on me.

“I said I would touch you,” I remind her. “Just this once. I never said I would fuck you again, Ash. If anything, I would have thought that was a given after the last time we parted ways. I’m not interested in throwing myself into the same fucking train wreck that you and I are.”

“Oh,” she says. Did it even occur to her that just because I haven’t turned her away, that doesn’t mean I’m willing to go through the pain she causes each time she’s gotten what she needs out of me and leaves? No matter how much I might miss her.

“Breakfast is served,” Ru yells from the other side of the door. “When you’re ready.”