WE BRING THE salmon back to Dan’s with a silent understanding I’ll be staying for dinner. Maybe the whole night.
John cleaned the fish before giving it to us, saving me from revealing how squeamish I get around fish guts. They make me gag. He’s unknowingly saved the sexual tension brewing tonight.
We set up the grill and Ashley wanders around the big kitchen in search of plates and something to make to go with the salmon. Cat follows her like a tabby shadow.
“What are your thoughts about quinoa? Farro?” She’s standing with her hands on her hips in the walk-in pantry.
“Should I have an opinion?” Joining her, I study the shelves filled with fancy packages of weird foods.
“I think I have a bag of salad and maybe some corn in my fridge. Nothing gourmet.”
“Have you met me? You can skip the salad and I’d be happy.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” She goes out the front door and across the drive to her temporary house. Dan and Roslyn’s place is bigger than any other house I’ve been in, but they’ve managed to make it feel homey and comfortable with warm wood and leather furniture in the main rooms. Not at all like the Wayne mansion I imagined bachelor Dan living in all alone.
Ashley returns with a couple ears of corn, a bag of salad, bottle of ranch dressing, and a loaf of bread. “This is everything I have. Except the half empty jar of almond butter and container of expired Greek yogurt.”
“We can make this work. I’ll grill the fish and corn. You pour lettuce in a bowl and add dressing. Can you handle making the garlic bread?”
She wrinkles her nose and smirks at me. “Funny. Go be a caveman and cook me some fish on the fire.”
The smell of garlic and butter wafts out the door when I finish with the fish and corn. Cat’s loitering around the grill waiting for some salmon to fall from the sky. I may accidentally on purpose drop a few bites on the ground for her.
Inside the kitchen, Ashley dances around to the Ramones. Holding the platter of food, I pause in the doorway to watch her.
“Ooh ooh ooh,” she sings along with the backup vocals to “I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend,” not caring she’s off-key.
She notices me when she pulls the bread out of the oven. “Oh.”
“Don’t let me stop you. I love the Ramones. And I agree with Joey. I do want to be your boyfriend.” After setting down the tray, I envelop her in my arms and kiss her neck.
“Too late. I’ve already said yes to Joey.”
“Too bad he’s dead.” I kiss along her jaw and she angles her head to give me more access.
Her eyes are soft when they meet mine. “I always preferred baseball players to guys in the band.”
“Oh, really?”
She hums and wraps her arms around my waist, her fingers sliding under my shirt to touch my back. “Must be your stamina. All that constant thinking about baseball. Plus, you look cute in your cap with the brim curved. I remember your lucky hat. Do you know I wanted to steal it and make you kiss me to get it back? I had the biggest crush on you.”
Her words and her hands on my skin flips a switch. I shift us so she’s against the counter and then cage her with my arms. We pick up where we left off on the boat. Alone in the house, there’s nothing to stop us, no reason to put on the brakes.
Except having sex in our friend’s kitchen.
I bend my legs and lift her by her thighs, encouraging her to wrap her legs around me when I stand.
She giggles as I pick her up. “What are you doing? Dinner?”
“We can reheat it.” I march us toward the front door.
After a brief fumble with the lock, I get us through the doorway and across the narrow drive without dropping her. Not easy considering she’s kissing the smooth skin behind my ear and nipping at my earlobe, her warm breath sending pulses of lust through my body.
I practically kick down her door to get us inside.
“Where’s your bed?” I whisper against her mouth.
“Upstairs. First door on the right.”
I stumble up the stairs, Ashley bouncing and giggling when I nearly fall at the top.
The bedroom is small and white. I couldn’t describe much else. My only focus is on the bed.
I practically throw Ashley down before I climb over her.
“What happened to waiting? To being patient and all the other stuff you’ve been telling me?” She scrambles up the mattress until she rests her head on the pillows.
“A man only has so much willpower.” I kiss a line along her jaw and down to my favorite place where her neck meets her shoulder.
“Finally.” The word comes out as a breathy exhale. “I thought you were enjoying torturing me. I was about to start begging.”
“Hmmm, I might like to hear you beg.” I shift my weight to my heels. “I really love the idea of you desperate for me.”
“Carter . . .” Her tone holds a warning.
“Mmm.” I bite my bottom lip as I study her. “First, we’re going to need to lose your shirt.”
“Take yours off first.” She tugs at the hem of mine.
Reaching behind my head, I tug it off. “Done.”
Her fingertips run over my chest and down to my abs. “I like these.”
I grin down at her. “Shirt. Off.”
“So bossy.” She wiggles her arms out of the sleeves and shoves the fabric over her head. Her shirt joins mine in a heap on the floor.
Her white lace bra is all innocence and temptation. I bite the tiny pink bow resting between her full breasts with my teeth. It’s like wrapping on a present: pretty, but not the good stuff. I kiss the border between lace and skin. Letting my scruffy beard gently scrape her softness, I place an open kiss on her dark rose nipple through the lace, sucking it into my mouth and feeling it harden against my tongue.
Ashley arches into my touch and softly pants. Her hands move from my shoulders, down my biceps and back, finally settling in the place at the nape of my neck where they twist into my hair. Anchoring me to her, she encourages me, but doesn’t beg. I need to up my game.
I shift my focus to her other breast. Not wanting to leave the first one neglected, I replace my mouth with my hand, rolling her nipple beneath the damp lace.
Her chest vibrates with a sexy hum as I lick and squeeze her breasts. Even the thin lace is too much of a barrier between us.
Without lifting my head, I drag the straps from her shoulders so I can free her breasts. “This needs to go.”
She twists and undoes the clasp on the back before shrugging out of her bra entirely.
Burying my head between her heavy, round breasts, I inhale the sweet scent that is entirely Ashley. I kiss a path between the swells, sliding my body down the bed so I can reach her navel and the top of her shorts.
“These must go.” Shifting to allow my fingers access to undo her shorts, I take a moment to gaze at her. Her copper hair spills across the white pillow case. Her freckles dot her shoulders and arms, but stop at her pale, full, and perfect breasts. A few are sprinkled across her stomach.
Making quick work of the button and zipper, I spread the denim, exposing hot pink lace that matches the bow on her bra.
She lifts her hips for me. I slide both her shorts and underwear down her legs, leaving her beautifully naked. Pleased to see she’s not completely bare, I drag my fingers over the neatly trimmed curls and tender pink flesh.
Leaning forward, I capture her mouth again. A sense of desperation scratches its way into my chest. I teased her about begging, but I’m the one on the verge of pleading. For what, I’m not sure.
As we kiss, her hands trail down my back and into my shorts, gripping and squeezing my ass. I roll my hips, seeking friction and her warmth.
Tearing my mouth from hers, I stare down at her beautiful face. Her dark lashes part, revealing her deep blue-green hazel eyes. We meet stares and the world quiets. Our chests brush against each other with each rise and fall of our breath.
Holding her gaze, I kiss the top of her full breast, the narrow spaces in between her ribs, the soft span of skin above her navel. Continuing past the dip of her bellybutton, I drag my nose from hip to hip. My open mouth kisses create a path of goose bumps in their wake as I slowly make my way between her parted legs. I lick and nip her inner thigh while my hand finds and squeezes her breast.
“Please,” she whispers the word I’ve been dying to hear.
Triumph and satisfaction flood my system and I smile into her skin. Nothing is better than knowing I’m bringing her pleasure. I’m giving her this orgasm and I have to fight my satisfied grin. “For you, anything.”
Using my tongue and fingers, I pour every drop of love into making her feel good until she’s clenching and pulsing with her first orgasm of the night.
My goal is to give her at least three tonight. I figure that’s a good place to start.
With soft kisses and steady strokes of my fingers, I guide her down from the high of pleasure. I brush my beard along her inner thigh and she jumps from the over-stimulation.
My kisses retrace their path up her torso to her shoulder and finally to her jaw. Her fingers brace my face as she pulls me into a deep kiss, not caring if she can taste herself on my lips and beard.
“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Her fingers flip the button on my shorts.
“I was thinking of leaving them on and spending all night with my mouth between your legs.”
Her response is unintelligible because her tongue is stroking mine.
I kiss her while both our hands attempt to remove my shorts. She frees my erection from my boxers, stroking the hard length while I shove fabric down my thighs. Releasing her grip, she tries to assist me. Finally giving up, I stand and drop everything to the floor.
Her eyes focus on my bobbing cock, its purple head pointing up at her. We make eye contact and the desire I see almost buckles my knees. There’s lust but something more—vulnerability and trust.
She slides off the bed and kneels before me.
“You don’t have to.”
Tracing her finger down the dark hair of my happy trail, she places her hands on my thighs. “I want to.”
I keep things trimmed down below. No one wants to floss with a short hair.
Her lips kiss the tip before her warm mouth engulfs me. When she sucks, my legs shake. I fight the urge to plunge into the back of her throat. I’m too close to exploding. All it will take is a few more strokes of her tongue. This may be the stuff of my fantasies, but I’m still a man with a plan, and that doesn’t include coming down her throat our first time together again.
With a soft touch to her head, I get her attention. Her eyes find mine as she wraps her hand around my base.
“I want to be inside of you.”
She places a wet kiss on the head and releases me. We settle on the bed, with me between her legs. If time were a circle, we’re back at the beginning of us. In this moment, we could be our teenage selves. Unexpected nerves rise up as she hands me a condom.
“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice nothing more than a rasp.
“Completely.” She kisses away my doubts as she guides me to her opening.
I slowly roll my hips forward until I nudge inside her inch by tortuous inch.
Our bodies come together until there’s no space between hers and mine. My hips rest against hers for a beat as I stare into her stunning eyes.
She arches up until she reaches my mouth, sucking on my bottom lip. Closing my eyes, I begin to thrust. She consumes my every thought as pleasure builds low in my back. I want to make her come again before I do.
I shift our position so I’m on my haunches and can slide my hand down to where we’re joined. I find her swollen, sensitive clit. With each thrust I stroke the bundle of nerves, drawing out another orgasm from her.
She moans and pants into my mouth as she reaches the peak. When her body flutters and clenches in release, her soft gasps grow louder “You feel it too?” I rest my weight on my elbows flanking her shoulders. When our eyes meet, I know she does.
“What sort of mojo magic are you working?” Her fingers sweep my hair off my damp forehead.
“It’s not me. It’s us.” I place a gentle kiss on her mouth.
After another round of sex and Ashley’s third orgasm, my stomach rumbles, reminding us we never ate dinner. We dress and wander back to the main kitchen. Dinner’s cold on the counter and the salad is soggy in its bowl. We reheat the food and sit at the counter to eat.
Outside the sun turns the sky purple and pink as it sets behind the island.
“Let’s build a fire,” I suggest as I clear our plates.
She gathers a couple of blankets while I grab us each a beer from the fridge.
Off to the side of the deck, I build a fire in the pit on the stone patio I helped build.
Once the flames blaze orange and rise above the logs, I settle into a chair next to Ashley.
“Can we be Dan and Roslyn when we grow up?” she asks. “I could get used to living here.”
“I have faith you’ll make the millions it’ll cost to live Dan’s lifestyle. You’ve always been smarter and more driven than me.”
“You never give yourself enough credit.”
Pondering her words, I stare into the fire. “Maybe you give me too much.”
“I’ve always thought you could be anything. Baseball player or boy band star.”
I cough as I swallow wrong. “Huh?”
“Teenage girl fantasies.”
“I can’t even sing.”
“And your dance moves would never make it.”
“We agreed never to mention Dance Dance Revolution again.”
“I didn’t. You did.”
She makes a good point.
“I’m sorry I never became the next Justin Timberlake for you.”
“I’m not. You would’ve gone off and fallen in love with some Hollywood actress or model. I’d be stuck reading about your latest sexcapade in the tabloids while eating all my feelings with rage-filled donut binges.”
“Wow, you’ve really explored this fantasy to its bitter end, haven’t you?” Reaching out my hand, I lace our fingers together.
“Donuts make everything better.”
“Come here.” I gently tug her hand until she stands. “You’re too far away.”
She sits on my lap with her legs over the side of the chair. I wrap my arms around her and then rest my chin on her head. We sit quietly watching the fire.
“I’m sorry.” My voice is raspy, so I clear my throat.
“For what?”
“Not fighting harder for you. For us.”
“It takes two people.”
“I know, but I could’ve handled things better.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“I do. Let me do this.”
She goes stiff in my arms. When she speaks, I can barely hear her. “Carter.”
“I’m not going to relive every detail of our tragic past, but listen to me. We’ve never spoken about what happened that day.”
“For good reason. Getting busted buying a pregnancy test by my religious grandmother is probably my worst memory.”
“How could we know she lived to hang around Walmart in Oak Harbor? I thought we were so smart driving up there to avoid running into anyone we knew.”
“We should’ve taken the ferry and driven to Tacoma. Or Spokane.”
I chuckle at the idea of driving four hours to go to a drug store. “I think that’s a little extreme.”
“Sometimes I wonder if she followed us. She hated you, so I wouldn’t put it past her. Whenever she said grace, she threw in a dig about Jesus changing your heart and banishing the sin from your mind.”
“I don’t think her prayers were answered. I still have a dirty mind, especially when it comes to you.” I plant a kiss on her neck.
“She never forgave me. Even when she was dying, I’d catch her scowling at me, the word ‘jezebel’ forming on her thin, lined lips.”
“You weren’t pregnant. We freaked out for no reason.”
“I had sex out of wedlock. In her mind, I’d broken one of the commandments. I was dirty. Even when you stood in my living room and promised to marry me if I was pregnant, I knew she’d never forgive me.”
“I meant it. I wanted to marry you, baby or not. Unplanned pregnancy only sped up my timeline.” I tighten my hold on her.
“I can’t believe they called your parents over and made all of you wait around while I peed on a stick. As if I couldn’t be more humiliated.”
“Longest five minutes of my life. To this day, I cringe over my dad saying you were trying to entrap me. Looking back, he was probably repeating the words my grandpa said to him when he knocked up my mom.”
“Your mom was the only calm one in the room. I remember her hugging me and telling me everything would be okay.”
“She’d been in your shoes. Plus, she always liked you. I think she saw we loved each other and was rooting for us.”
“My mom couldn’t look at me for a month, but she did hide Dad’s shotgun. Guess she didn’t want him going to jail for murder.”
I freeze at the thought of her dad tracking me down with a loaded gun. “Glad I never knew that. I wouldn’t have left the house.”
“Well, we didn’t have to worry for long. He left that summer. Mom didn’t say anything directly to me, but I know she partially blamed me. At least until your dad discovered the empty accounts and unpaid loans.”
“Your father’s a giant asshole.”
“King of the assholes. Maybe he has his own kingdom now. Wherever he is.”
Watching the flames dance in the fire, I hope Ron Curtis is burning in hell.
“Dan was asking about your last name a while ago.”
She twists to face me. “Kingston?”
“No, he heard Olaf call you Ashley Curtis.”
“Oh.” Her fingers twist a curl into a tourniquet. “Did you tell him the story?”
I shake my head no. “Figured you’d tell him or Roslyn if you thought it was important.”
“That my dad is a crook and destroyed your dad’s life?”
“You’re not him. You’ve started over.”
“I imagine he’s done the same. Wherever he is.”
“You were seventeen. No one blames you for what your dad did.”
“I’m sure your parents would say otherwise. I can’t even look your mother in the eye when I see her at the store.”
“She doesn’t hold you responsible.”
“Your dad gave me the stink eye at the Maxwelton parade. Don’t deny it. If kids weren’t around, he probably would’ve said something, too.”
“No one even talks about what happened ten or fifteen years ago. Trust me. When people talk about my dad, they focus on the drinking. Or if they’re being kind, his high school football career back in the good old days.”
“My mom refuses to come over to the island. I don’t think she’s been here in more than four years. She’s living outside of Portland now.” She sounds resigned and more than a little sad. “I can’t blame her. Says being here is like slowly being smothered by a pillow filled with memories. We’ve pressed her to file papers to dissolve their marriage, but she says that would be like digging up a grave. Better to leave things undisturbed.”
“I hope she can find peace.” At least one of us should find some. Hell if we don’t all deserve it.