14.

 

We hang out on the beach all afternoon: playing touch football, swimming in the ocean, and lazing in the hot summer’s sun. As evening draws in, the guys build a bonfire, and we cook hot dogs over the coals, eating with our fingers off paper plates and toasting marshmallows on spindly branches.

“I should have guessed you’d be the queen of s’mores.” Ash settles beside me in front of the fire.

“A girl’s got to have some skills in life.” I slide my melty marshmallow onto a graham cracker, top it with a square of chocolate, and sandwich the whole delicious mess closed. I bite down, and melted marshmallow oozes out onto my fingers. “Yum.”

“Here.” Ash grabs a blanket from nearby and drapes it carefully around my shoulders. “You look cold.”

“Thanks.” I pull it in closer. “I forgot to bring a sweater.”

“But you did remember three types of scones,” Ash points out, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“Exactly. My priorities are just fine.” I take another bite of my s’more. I know I’m smearing chocolate around my mouth, but it’s worth it, just to see the look in Ash’s eyes when I lick it off.

Suddenly, it feels like we’re completely alone.

I sneak a glance around the fire pit. Everyone else has paired off, in their own private couple worlds. Nobody gives Ash and I another glance, sitting over here in the dusk light.

Ash leans towards the fire to prod at the embers. When he sits back again, he’s shifted closer to me, so the side of his torso is resting lightly against mine.

My breath catches. Did he mean to, I wonder, or was it just an accident?

“Did you have fun today?” he asks.

I nod. “You have a great family.”

His smile turns proud. “They’re not so bad.”

“Tegan told me, about your parents.” I say softly. It feels wrong knowing something so intimate about Ash without him realizing.

He looks over at me, the shadows playing on his face.

“I’m sorry,” I say simply. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you. Even now.”

He nods slowly. “The truth is, I don’t think about it. Not as much as I should, anyway.” Ash traces circles in the sand between us. “Ironic, I suppose. I spent so long doing everything I could to block it out, to just focus on what needed to be done. And now… Now I’m so used to not thinking about them, I have to try to even remember.”

I feel an ache, just watching him. “You did what you had to do,” I say gently.

He gives a sharp shrug, like he’s trying to brush off the conversation. “What about you?” Ash looks over at me. “How are your folks taking this change?”

“Not good,” I pause, but he clearly wants to change the subject, so I continue. “I wish I could make them believe I’m happier here, right now, but they’re so fixated on what it means to be successful, they won’t accept I just don’t want that life.”

“You think they’ll come around?”

“I hope so. Maybe when I get the business up and running, they’ll respect my decision more. But I can see it from their side too,” I add, not wanting to pile on. “I mean, to go from a big law career to baking cinnamon rolls in the space of a month…”

“It’s a big change,” Ash chuckles. “Even if they’re damn fine cinnamon rolls.”

We fall silent for a moment. I stare into the fire, feeling the heat of his body beside me as Ash plays with the sand. He picks up handfuls and lets it run slowly through his fingers. I watch, distracted, imagining the sensual feel of those fingers on my skin.

“Why didn’t you call?” I find myself asking out of nowhere. The minute the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back, but it’s too late, so I press on, my heart in my throat. “After that night. You said, we would have dinner, and then you never called. I left you my number.”

“I know.” Ash’s voice is heavy. “I thought about it. I came close to dialing, every day.”

I turn, confused. “So what stopped you?”

He said it was a mistake, what happened between us. A lapse in judgement. But I can’t believe that, not looking at him now.

Not with the warmth in his eyes, the heat in his dark, liquid stare.

Ash exhales. “I can’t,” he says regretfully. “I can’t be that guy you want. Spontaneous and thrill-seeking. I know I made you believe it’s who I really am, but that night, it wasn’t me. I was playing pretend with you, and it wouldn’t have been fair to keep pretending.”

He looks away, shadowed in the dim light. He clearly believes every word he’s just said, but I don’t buy it for a second. Maybe he’s told himself it was all an act, but I know he couldn’t have faked the connection between us; the fevered kisses and breathless, raw passion.

He’s trapped himself in a rigid world of rules and rationality, but his heart is capable of so much more. Those walls are cracking, I can see it, even now.

I want to tear them down completely. I want to show him the night we spent together wasn’t a lie.

It was the truest thing I’ve ever known.

I feel a rush of reckless courage. “Take me home?” I ask softly.

Ash glances over, and I can see the conflict in his eyes.

“Noelle…”

“You approached me at the party. You kissed me in the bar.” My voice is quiet but firm, even as my heart beats so loudly I swear he can hear it thunder in my chest. “You can tell yourself it’s all a mistake, that you were just playing pretend, but it’s a mistake you keep making.”

I force myself to move my hand, just a few inches, so my fingers are overlapping his in the sand.

“I don’t want to fight this,” I hold his gaze, even though I’m nervous inside. “I’m finished with doing what I’m supposed to, what I think is the sensible thing. We both know there’s something real here between us. So now it’s your turn to choose.”

I slowly turn his hand over, and trace my thumb against his palm. Ash’s eyes flare at the intimate touch, I see his jaw tighten with control.

“Are you going to keep lying to yourself, or will you trust your instincts?” I ask, adrenaline racing through my system. “Trust in what you want?”

The moment stretches, unspoken between us. Heat shimmers, bright as the firelight, but I can see the battle in his eyes holding him back, all the calm, logical reasons racing through his mind.

Ash pulls his hand away and stands up.

My heart sinks. He doesn’t have the heart for it, not enough to take the risk.

I stare into the fire, clenching my teeth to keep the tears from stinging at the corner of my eyes.

Then I see a hand extended. Ash, offering to help me to my feet.

To leave with him.

I take it, unsteady, and get up. I’m still unsure, but when he looks at me, possessive, my last insecurities melt away.

He’s decided.

“We’re going to make a move,” Ash says loudly to the others. “I have work to do, and Noelle needs to get back to the B&B.”

We say our goodbyes, then Ash walks me back to his car. He opens the passenger door for me, and I slide in, the leather cool against my bare legs. I wrap my arms around myself, my pulse skittering faster as Ash gets in and starts the ignition.

Anticipation shivers through me as we drive back along the winding coastal road. Ash doesn’t say a word, he stares straight ahead at the darkening streets; his profile strong and proud in the dim light. My mind races; my body prickles with awareness. I can’t believe I was so bold, inviting him back.

What have I started here? And just how far will we go before the end?

Before I have time to figure out the answers, Ash pulls into the drive at Rose Cottage. I get out, trying to think of what to say next, but Ash doesn’t seem unsettled by the silence, he just follows me to the front door, and inside the house.

Every second that passes, the tension between us builds.

I look around. It’s silent and still. “Everyone must be in bed,” I babble, trying to keep my voice down. “The Keller family leaves tomorrow, and the Petersons are here another week.”

Ash just nods. I can feel his eyes on me, the unspoken anticipation in the air.

I gulp a breath, wondering how he can unsettle me so much just by standing in the same room. Part of me wants to just cut through the tension, grab him and pull him down in another world-stopping kiss, but just as I’m debating throwing all restraint out the window, I remember something.

“The bread!” I exclaim.

Ash looks startled.

“For breakfast tomorrow. I have to make the dough, so it can raise overnight. It won’t take me a minute,” I apologize, hurrying through to the kitchen. Ash follows, and leans against the counter, watching as I assemble the flour, yeast, and other ingredients.

“You don’t need a recipe?” he asks, as I get to work.

I smile. “This one, I know by heart. Nana would be up baking every morning. She was a little more prepared than me,” I add, rueful. I quickly measure out flour and water, and sift into the ancient stand mixer that takes up half the countertop. I set the machine to mix, and soon the dough takes shape in sticky ribbons; while it works its magic, I collect another assortment of ingredients: walnuts and cranberries, a bar of white chocolate, and some savory things too.

For a moment, I’m totally absorbed in the task at hand. I tip the dough from the mixer into a pool of flour, and work it by hand until it’s light and springy. I’m just dividing it between the pans when I feel Ash move behind me. He brushes my hair to one side; then comes the hot kiss of his lips on the back of my neck.

I shiver and sink back against him. His mouth trails lightly over the hollow of my neck, whisper soft.

My body crackles to life, every nerve and sense lighting up like the night sky on the Fourth of July. My hands still, I’m too lost to focus, but Ash’s voice comes, a low whisper in my ear.

“Don’t stop,” he murmurs, trailing his fingertips lightly down my arms, making my skin prickle sharply. “The sooner you’re done here, the sooner I can take you to bed.”

He bites down softly on my earlobe, making me moan as his hands smooth around to the front of my body. He strokes softly across my breasts, making my nipples stiffen beneath my thin cotton tank. Slow and sure, his hands don’t stop, they just caress me, insistent, swooping down across my stomach and along the waistband of my cutoffs until my legs give way and I sink back, resting my head against his chest.

My body is on fire. Every touch, every whisper. I couldn’t focus to save my life, all I can do is feel the waves of sensation roll across my skin, intoxicating.

“Ash…” I whisper, falling into the blissful haze.

He strokes back up, teasing and toying with my nipples through the fabric until I’m gasping for more.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Ash’s voice is thick with lust. “You don’t know what you do to me, Noelle. You make me come undone.”

I turn then, looping my arms up around his neck and pulling his mouth down to cover mine. I kiss him hungrily, desperately, already wound so tight I could break. He pushes me back against the counter, biting down gently on my lower lip, and then sliding his tongue deep into my mouth to claim me for good.

I surrender willingly, parting my lips wider to savor the smoky sweet taste of him, our tongues locked in an achingly sensual dance.

It’s not enough, nothing could ever be enough to sate this need, clawing low in my belly and racing quicksilver in my veins. I arch up, clutching at his shirt, trying to drag him even closer. I want him, want every inch of him molded to me, until there’s nothing between us anymore.

Ash breaks the kiss suddenly; gripping my ass and lifting me onto the counter. He yanks me closer, until my legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s cradled against the molten heart of me. As he claims my lips again, I can feel him, hard against me, and the knowledge only makes me hotter. I grind against him, and he lets out a ragged groan into my mouth.

God, I want him.

I rake my nails down the back of his shirt, then yank it off over his head in one motion. Now I can feel him, feel the broad muscular planes of his body. I run my hands over his back and chest, loving the feel of his skin. Ash pulls away; his eyes are dark with lust.

“Your turn,” he growls, and I obediently lift my arms above my head for him to pull off my tank. But Ash doesn’t lift it all the way, he twists the fabric around my wrists, trapping my hands together.

My pulse kicks.

He tips me back until I’m lying flat, spread on the counter with my hands still pinned above my head. Ash grazes his mouth back down my neck and across my chest, teasing at the edge of my bikini top.

I moan, trying to press myself against his mouth, but he eases back, barely licking across my damp, needy skin. I writhe, but he keeps my bound hands in place, trapped beneath him as his mouth lazily roams over my body. I have no choice but to lie back and let him work his wicked magic, licking down my stomach until his breath is hot against the waistband of my shorts.

Ash unfastens them and tugs them off me, leaving me splayed here on the kitchen counter in nothing but my bikini.

A thought pops into my head, and I can’t help but giggle.

“What?” Ash looks up.

I smile. “I was just thinking, I bet Nana never did this in her kitchen.”

Ash winks. “You never know.”

“Eww!” I laugh, until he pushes my legs apart and bites down gently on the inside of my knee, and then there’s no room for anything but the fierce heat rising, coiling tighter inside. Ash kisses his way up the inside of my thigh, and every touch makes my body tremble with reckless anticipation.

Still, he makes me wait, hooking his thumbs under the sides of my bikini briefs and stroking across the delicate skin of my hips as he drops a dozen tiny kisses over the fabric.

I gasp for air, totally lost to the moment. Every passing second is torture as Ash whispers his hot breath over me, tantalizingly close. I’m aching for him, needing him, and when he finally pushes my bikini aside and licks up against me in a long delicious swoop, I can’t stop myself from moaning aloud in pleasure.

“Ash,” I groan, arching up to meet his mouth. He answers by yanking my briefs off, and settling between my thighs again; his fingers gripping my thighs as he lowers his mouth onto me and my world spirals out of control.

Hot and wet, slow and achingly good. He laps at me, relentless, swirling his tongue over my tender clit until I’m crying out with desperate need. The pleasure is twisting tighter, cresting higher, but it’s still not enough. “Ash,” I gasp again, but there’s a begging edge to my voice. “Please…”

He lifts his head, his dark eyes glittering with lust. “What do you want, baby?” he asks, lazily stroking my clit, his fingers delving down lower to tease at my wetness.

“You.” I fight to keep sane, to keep from breaking down completely. But fuck, I need him so much, like nothing in the world before.

“Me?” He asks slowly, sliding one finger inside me.

I arch up, lifting my hips into him. “You,” I gasp, clenching tight. “More.”

“Like this?”

He thrusts another finger inside, and God, it feels so good. Filling me, stretching me. He beckons, curling his fingers up against my walls, just right.

I answer with a whimper of pleasure, but he pulls back. My frustration builds, but he just smiles, a dark angel in the dim light, so controlled. Out of reach.

He’s still holding back, I realize through the rush of pleasure. He thinks he can contain this, stay removed and on the edge of this whirlwind.

I need to prove him wrong.

My wrists are bound lightly, and it’s easy for me to tug off my tank top completely and sit up, reaching for him. I kiss him deeply, tasting myself on his tongue as I reach for his jeans and yank them open impatiently.

“Easy there,” Ash groans, trying to grab my wrists again—to control the pace—but I close my fist around him, hard and hot, and he shudders, his hands dropping to the counter to brace himself against my teasing caress. God, he feels so good. I watch his face change as I stroke along his rigid length, loving the way his controlled expression slowly shatters, until he’s breathing fast, his eyes locked on mine with a ravenous stare.

The moment shimmers between us, electric, but I need more.

I need him to lose control completely. To feel even a fraction of this chaotic passion that surges through my body. I lean in, as if to kiss him, then bite down on his lower lip, meeting his eyes with a wicked challenge.

Ash’s eyes flare, and then his control is lost forever.

He grabs me, claiming my mouth in a hard, demanding kiss that obliterates everything in the universe but this: his hands, his mouth, the heat that surges like a firestorm in the night. His hands roam over my body, yanking me closer as he shoves his jeans aside. I barely have time to wrap my thighs around him before I feel him against me, where I need him the most.

He thrusts into me in one glorious, thick stroke.

I gasp, gripping his shoulders tightly as he moves inside me, all the way to the hilt. God, so deep.

Ash groans into my mouth, pistoning his hips in a maddening rhythm. I grind back against him, loving every inch of his invasion, and then he’s lifting me, his hands tight on my ass as he turns and slams me up against the nearest solid surface. The cold of the refrigerator door hits my back just as he surges deep inside me, and I cry out from the overwhelming sensations flooding my body, consuming every sense.

It’s mindless; madness, the fever of touch and taste and God, the thick drive of him, rubbing up high inside me, hard and deep.

I cling on, meeting every thrust until Ash takes us both down to the floor. I roll us before he can pin me down, straddling him on top. I sink down on him hard, riding him relentlessly, pushing us both to the edge. He clutches my hips, thrusting into me with every beat, our eyes locked so I can see the aching lust in his expression, those dark eyes alive with something reckless.

Something real.

This, this is what I wanted. Right here, beyond logic or reason. Nothing but friction and heat and hunger, everything else long since melted away. The wild passion that grips us both now, hurtling closer to the edge of oblivion with every damp thrust and desperate kiss.

I’m close, so close to falling completely. I arch my back, rocking my hips to meet him as Ash drives up deep inside. His hands are on me, gripping me tight, so good. Again, again, God I’m ready, but just as the deep shiver starts to coil around the base of my spine, Ash rears up, tumbling me beneath him. With a deep groan, he slams into me, and the force is so good, so right, I shatter with a scream. He pistons hard, over and over, riding out the breaking wave until I’m mindless with pleasure and he finally he lets out a ragged cry and surrenders to the epic climax that seizes us both; an obliterating, all-consuming ecstasy that wracks my body and consumes my soul, until there’s nothing left in the world but him.

Only him.