Ridge

You Scramble My Everything

One of the things I love most about my job is the commute—there isn’t one. My office is connected to my living quarters on the third floor where nothing else is located. I have the entire floor to myself. It’s like a penthouse suite.

So when I’m done with work, I’m home, although I’m never truly done working. I am always monitoring every room in the mansion, the barns, and the perimeter of the land. It isn’t that Ash is worried about a personal attack or getting robbed, himself—he just wants to be sure his employees and his family are always safe.

I turn off the monitors in the surveillance room and transfer the feed to my computer in the living room so I can relax and eat dinner. An hour later, my phone chimes that I have a text at the same time there is a knock at my door. I read the text first while I walk through the house to get the door.

Ash: Don’t be mad, smile, be nice, she’s not what you think.

I read the message twice. What the hell is he talking about? I don’t have time to figure it out before I open the door and find Allison Green standing before me holding a dinner tray.

“Surprise,” she says in a shy voice.

“What’s this?”

“Dinner. Stella was busy with Cannon, and she couldn’t bring it, so she asked me. And there were so many people in the kitchen preparing to feed my crew I figured yours would be cold before you got it if I didn’t. So, here I am, are you going to let me in? This thing’s heavy.”

“Oh, yes, let me take it,” I say removing the tray from her shaky hands. It’s very heavy. I’m surprised she carried it all the way up here by herself. I move it to the dining room table and set it down while I begin to understand the text, Stella’s involvement, and Ash’s cupid-like meddling.

When I turn around, I expect to see her still at the door, but she’s right behind me looking around my home.

“Nice place, you must have a great decorator.” She’s still dressed down and wearing those adorable fuzzy socks, but now her hair is thrown up into a messy bun on top of her head making her look even more youthful and natural than earlier.

“I don’t know who decorated. It was like this when I came to work for Ash.”

Her forehead wrinkles in a frown, “Yeah? Well, it looks like it was done with a man in mind.”

I don’t mean to be an ass, but I can’t help but state the obvious. “Ash is a man.”

Her eyes narrow when she thinks about this. “I guess you’re right about that. How long have you two known each other?”

I don’t like questions. Questions feel like prying to me, but I’ll give her this one. “We knew each other in high school. I was a year ahead of him, but we were good friends.”

“Ah, must be nice working and living here. I’ve never been in a house like this before.”

She’s not what you think. Ash’s words come back to me. “Surely living in New York, you’ve been in some luxurious homes.” I glance at the open door on the other side of the apartment and wonder if I should go and shut it, which would be a silent invitation for her to stay. Or, should I leave it open and see where this is going? I leave it open because now I’m curious about Ash’s text message.

“No, I grew up in Brooklyn. I’m crossing my fingers we can afford a place in Queens someday soon.”

“We?” I ask before thinking. I swore to myself I wouldn’t get involved with this woman no matter how beautiful she is. They’re all beautiful until their perfectly red painted claws come out.

“My brother and I. I’ve been raising him since I graduated college. There was nobody else when Dad was gone, and I couldn’t let him go into foster care, so it’s just him and me now making our way.”

“What happened to your mother, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Her bottom lip slips between her teeth and looks away from me for the first time since she’s arrived. “It’s fine. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I don’t like to talk about it. So, are you going to invite me to dinner or are you going to let it sit there and get cold after I lugged it all the way up here?” she says, the smile returning to her face.

Hell, I can’t believe I’m doing this. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“I’d love to, thank you.”

Now it’s time to shut the door. She’s been properly invited to stay so leaving the door open now is a mute point. “Have a seat while I close the door.”

She pulls out a chair and sits down. When I return, I lift the covers off four plates—two have stuffed pork chops with twice-baked potatoes, and two others have salads. “Looks like someone was planning on staying all along,” I say accusingly sitting down across from her. I expect her to act shy or embarrassed, but she surprises me with her answer.

“Yep, well, I felt like you didn’t eat with the group because of me, so I wanted to show you I don’t bite. Unless you want me to, of course.”

My mind scatters everywhere like an exploding firecracker. She admits she came up here on purpose, she knows I wasn’t eating downstairs because of her, and she’s a kinky flirt.

“I’d be careful who you admit that to. Someone might surprise you and take you up on it.”

“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t doubt that.” I remove the plates from the tray while I talk. “So what makes you think I was eating up here because of you?”

“Promise not to be angry?”

“No, I never promise not to be angry. Being angry is my prerogative.”

She shrugs. “Ever since I met you this morning, something’s been nagging at me. You looked so familiar, but I never forget a face. I knew I’d never met you in person before so I looked you up. You were Livi Fox’s bodyguard.”

I snap my napkin and lay it on my lap without looking at her.

“Yes, I was.”

“And you’re hiding out here because the media made such a mess of your life.”

“Yes, that’s true, too. It’s also why I don’t want any photographs of me to be in that article. I don’t want anyone knowing where I’m at. I like my life now.”

She reaches out to touch my hand. “I understand. I won’t tell anybody, that’s not what I’m here for.”

I look at her small, warm hand on mine. “Forgive me if I don’t trust you. You work for one of the magazines that helped destroy me. I had to come back home and live with my mother when I was thirty-three years old. I was broke, and people were calling me with death threats at least ten times a day. It was the worst part of my life, and I’d like to forget it ever happened and live my life in peace.”

“Then that’s what you’ll do,” she says like it’s the easiest thing to do. “I’m not the kind of person who stirs up trouble where there is none. I just want to do my job and go home with some awesome photographs so I can get my long-overdue raise and move David and me into a better neighborhood.”

“David’s his name?”

“Yes, he’s handsome, smart, and he’s going to be on the football team this fall.” She removes her hand, and I miss her warmth.

“Football, huh? I played when I was in high school, too, loved it.” I pass her a wrapped bundle of silverware, and she unrolls it placing the napkin on her lap.

“Yes, he’s into all kinds of sports, and he plays the piano. I want him to experience as many things as he can over the next few years. I had to grow up fast. I don’t want him to have to.”

Growing up fast without a father, that’s something we have in common and so is raising younger siblings.

“I’m sorry about your father. My dad died when I was young, too, and I helped raise my two younger sisters. It’s rough taking on that role at such a young age.”

“It was, but I’ve never regretted a moment of it. You have two sisters?”

“Yes, they live in Northern California. We don’t see each other much anymore since they moved away. And the scandal was hard on them listening to everyone bashing their brother. I don’t blame them for keeping their distance.”

“That’s sad. Families should bond together in times of trouble and not split up.”

“They have families. I didn’t want their kids to get picked on. And I worried about their jobs. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if one of them lost their job because they were related to me.”

“And you still don’t stay in touch after all this time?”

“Time passes, people grow apart, it’s okay, Allison.” She pouts disagreeing with my assessment but unable to change what it is.

“Would you like some wine?” I ask to steer the conversation in another direction.

“Sure, as long as it’s no trouble.” Her eyes are so full of genuine concern that it takes me by surprise. She doesn’t want to put me out by agreeing to a simple glass of wine. That’s not the sign of a high-maintenance woman at all. Neither is the selfless way she took her little brother in to raise by herself. I’m starting to see what Ash meant. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she’s not a blood-sucking city girl looking for a meal ticket or a sugar daddy.

“No, no trouble at all. I have a few bottles in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”

I can feel her eyes on me watching me walk away, and I wonder if she thinks I’m strange for wanting to keep a low profile after all these years. I also wonder if Ash is right, does she like me? I’m starting to hope she does. She’s been more than forthcoming with my questions, and hers have all been benign everyday inquiries. Could I have been wrong about her? Or am I just lonely and willing to put all of my suspicions aside for an evening with a beautiful woman?

It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone. The last few months of work have left little time to socialize, and my dates have been few and far between. Molly, one of Ash’s ranch hands, was the last woman between my sheets, and as much as I prefer a simple country woman, she was a little too rough around the edges for me.

Back at the table, I stand next to her and uncork the bottle pouring her a large glass while she watches me with eagle eyes. “What are you thinking about?” I ask when I catch her staring.

“Honestly?”

“Yes, honestly. I don’t like being lied to about anything.”

“I was thinking how can such an incredibly handsome man come off like such an ass earlier today and such a gentleman right now.”

I laugh at her brutal honesty. “I see why you asked about the honesty.”

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. It looks good on you. You should do it more often.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Why is that? The lack of smiling, I mean.”

I set the bottle down and round the table to my chair. “I don’t know. I suppose I don’t have a lot of things in my life that bring me real joy.”

“I thought you were happy with your life now.”

“I am. I love my job and living here with Ash and Stella and Cannon. I’m talking about the things outside of work, and there are not many of those with a job like this. It’s hard to explain.”

“No, I think I get it. You’d like more time for yourself, but the opportunity hasn’t presented itself, so you continue to work and find fulfillment in that.”

I stop and stare at her with my fork in my hand half way to my mouth. I place it back down on my plate. “That’s exactly it.”

She raises her eyebrows and smiles a satisfied smile right before she pops a bite of asparagus into her mouth. She’s so smug it should irritate me, but it has quite the opposite effect. I’m sitting here with this woman whom I fully intended on disliking, hell, more like hating, and instead, I feel like we’ve known one another for years.

“Surprised?”

“At what?”

“My uncanny ability to understand you.”

I am surprised. I’m not usually so transparent, but I’m not admitting that to her.

“You’re intuitive, yes.”

“Well, you’re evasive.”

I watch her cut bites off of her pork chop. Her hands are pretty and delicate—the hands of a woman who works in an office. My imagination takes over, and those hands are sliding up my thighs as she kneels between my legs to… No, I have to stop thinking like that.

“See, you don’t even comment about being evasive.”

“Sorry, my mind drifted. I’m not evasive as much as I am careful of what I tell people, especially people who work for magazines.”

“You’re hung up on that, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I am, very.”

“How about I don’t ask you any questions then?”

“Is that even possible?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never tried to talk to someone new without using questions. Let’s try it out.”

“All right, I’ll start. This pork chop is delicious.”

“I concur, and the twice-baked potato is to die for. You have a great chef.”

“They aren’t my chefs, but I can pass along the compliment.”

“Thank you, I would appreciate it.” She’s speaking in a proper voice carefully choosing her words as not to ask a question.

We chew in silence for a while, and I try to think of something to say that isn’t a question. “It’s impossible to get to know someone without asking questions,” I finally say.

“No, it isn’t. I’ll just tell you things about myself.” She leans back in her chair and tips her head back while she thinks. “Hmm, well, you know I have a brother, and my father died in a car accident, and my mother’s gone, so we don’t have to go over that again. I went to New York University on a full scholarship for photojournalism and communications. I was an A student with a 4.0 GPA, not into sports, but I run on a treadmill to stay in shape. I like to dress up occasionally but prefer dressing down most of the time. I love going to the movies, action movies in particular. I listen to pop and classical music. My favorite color is violet, and my favorite number is eleven. I prefer tea to coffee.”

“I’m impressed and well informed now, thank you.” I refill her glass of wine without asking since we aren’t asking questions.

“Thanks. Your turn, tell me things about you.”

“I am thirty-nine years old, which reminds me you did not disclose your age.”

“Twenty-eight,” she says with her mouth full.

“Thank you. That’s an eleven-year age gap, interesting.”

I watch her as she takes a drink of wine and swallows her food before answering my non-question. “Age is just a number.”

“Good to know. My favorite color is blue, astrology interests me, I listen to country music, and I was a Marine until I was thirty. I’m was married once, and I graduated from the University of Montana, but not with a 4.0 GPA but more like a 3.7 GPA. My mother lives in Montana, my father died of a heart attack when he was sixty-eight, and I have two younger sisters who live in California.”

“Very interesting. I can see you as a Marine.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“It was a compliment. I have nothing but the utmost respect for our military men and women.”

I’m done eating, and so is she, but if I’m going to keep our no-question game going, I can’t ask her to sit in the living room, so I grab the bottle of wine and our glasses and stand up. “Come on. We are going into the living room.”

“I like when you don’t ask questions… you sound very commanding.”

“More people should try communicating this way. It leaves out all the wishy washiness.”

She laughs and settles in one corner of the couch with her legs folded under her. “Wishy washiness is a new term for me. I like it.”

“It’s new for me, too. I just made it up.”

I sit opposite her on the couch and hold out my glass. “To not asking questions,” I say.

“To not asking questions,” she says clinking her glass lightly with mine. We drink. Her slow, me faster. I don’t know why I’m bothering with wine. If I want a buzz, I need something stronger.

“Trust is important in a friendship,” she says out of nowhere.

“I agree, it is,” I answer not sure where this is going.

“I want you to know I trust you, and you can trust me. I am in no way out to expose you through my work. I just thought we should have that out there in the open between us, so it’s very clear.”

“It’s clear, thank you.”

“That being said, I wanted to show you some of the photographs I took today. I think you might want a few of the ones with you and Cannon. You two get along so well.”

I snort. “We get along better now that Stella’s in his life. I couldn’t stand looking after him before. He was a hellion.”

“She must have made quite an impression on him. Kids know who to trust and love, and I can see Cannon trusts and loves you.”

“He’s a good kid, misunderstood, but good.”

“Kids, you gotta love ‘em,” she says, and I get the double meaning behind that comment. That’s her way of asking if I have kids without asking.

“I don’t have any of my own.”

“That’s too bad. You seem like you’d be a good father.”

“I’m not so sure about that but thanks.”

Quiet settles between us. She sips her wine, and I down mine. “I’m going to make myself a martini. You can have one if you like.”

“I’m fine, thank you, though.”

In the kitchen, I plink several cubes of ice in a shaker with a couple of shots of vodka, shake, and pour into my glass. I’ve had my back to the living room making my drink. When I turn, Allison is right there, as in, right there in front of me close enough to feel the warmth of her body radiating onto mine.

I look down into her dark walnut eyes and drink her in. She’s breathtaking, her smooth, flawless skin and her full parted lips beckon to be kissed. I’d be a fool not to take advantage of the moment, so I lean forward and gently press my lips to hers.

She tastes like wine and cranberries—sweet and tart at the same time—delicious. I set my drink on the counter and slip my hand around her waist pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. My heartbeat doubles when her hands slide up my back, and her soft curves meld into me. She feels so damn good. I haven’t desired a woman like this in a long time. There’s a connection between us that I’ve never experienced like she was made to perfectly fit in my hands and my hands only.

The kiss lasts and lasts until I’m swallowing her gasps and whimpers and sliding my hands under her ass to lift her up. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I walk her to the couch and lay her down never breaking our kiss. How have I gone from hiding from this woman this morning to wanting to rip her clothes off and bury my cock so deep inside of her she screams my name?

I move my mouth from hers to her neck and kiss a trail along her jaw to her ear where I nibble on her earlobe. Her hands come to my chest, and she pushes me away. Confused, I back up onto my knee that’s between her legs and stare into her eyes that are now black as night with their pupils dilated fully.

Before I can say anything, she’s pulling her shirt up and over her head tossing it onto the floor next to us. The sight of her lying under me in a lacy pink bra and jeans makes me dizzy and ravenous. I lower down onto my forearms and tease her nipple with my tongue and teeth through the thin lace causing her back to arch off the couch against me.

Her hands are at the base of my shirt working it up. When she can go no further, I reach up to the back of my collar and pull it off tossing it onto the growing pile of clothes next to us. When I lower myself against her, our skin burns when it touches, so hot, so sensitive, so incredibly right.

I pull her bra down under her ample breasts and moan when I suck her nipple between my lips and scrape my teeth on her hard bud. “I want you, Allison, and that’s no question.” Enough fooling around on the couch like teenagers, I have a perfectly good king-size bed in the next room. I yank her up and toss her over my shoulder carrying her like a caveman to my bedroom. She gasps and then she laughs until I lay her down on my bed and kiss her again to be sure this is what she wants.

Her hands explore my back pulling, scratching, begging for more. I kiss another trail down her neck past her breasts to the edge of her jeans and unbutton and unzip them. Back up to her mouth, I look into her hooded eyes for approval before going any further. She nods understanding full well what I’m asking, and I back off the bed and stand to tug her jeans off. More lace, pink see-through fucking lace that has my cock hard as steel and twitching in my jeans.

I kiss her between her legs over the lace, and she gasps and bucks up violently. I can’t wait until there is no barrier between us.

“Allison, I want to make sure before…”

“I want you to fuck me, Ridge. Do it, don’t wait. I want you inside me, please.”

So much for consent. You can’t get any clearer than that. I stand up and shed my jeans and boxers while she watches panting on her back before me. I slide my hands up her bare thighs and pull off her lace panties while she unclasps her bra and discards it as well.

I take a moment to appreciate her beautiful, curvaceous body. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Allison. Spread your legs wide for me.” She does as I ask, and I reward her with my mouth between her legs. I make her scream with the first of many orgasms I have in store for her tonight.

I open the drawer in the nightstand and grab a condom, rolling it on while she’s still coming down from her high. When I’m ready, I pull her up off the bed and sit on the edge. “I want you to ride me.” She steps forward with a wobble still reeling from her orgasm, and I help lift her onto my lap. Her long, dark hair has come free, and I tuck a piece behind her ear gazing into her soulful, wise eyes. “Are you ready?” I ask, and she nods rising and placing her hands on my shoulders.

I guide my cock to her entrance, and she slowly impales herself onto it sinking down, down until I’m deep inside her warm, slick walls. I pull her against me and bury my face in her neck savoring the feel of being so completely one with this gorgeous creature.

She rises, and I grip her ass digging my fingers into her hot flesh and forcefully pull her back down. She cries out and pushes me down onto my back on the bed with her hands splayed out on my chest to ride me hard and fast and then slow and steady alternating until I flip her over and retake control.

“You’re going to make me cum.”

“That’s the idea, isn’t it?” she pants.

“Not yet, I want more of you,” I say pushing in slow and deep. Her eyes roll back into her head, and she grips the comforter on either side of her. After a few slow thrusts, I pull out without warning, and her eyes snap open. She whimpers until I flip her over onto her belly and pull her ass up in the air.

I slide a finger down her spine to her crack pausing to place pressure on the pucker of her ass for a moment before guiding my cock back into her soaking-wet crease.

She moans, and I wrap my arm around her so I can stroke her clit while I drive into her until we both cum with a force I’ve never known. When we start to come down from the most intense sexual experience I’ve ever had, I slide out and roll onto my side pulling her with me to spoon behind her.

“Oh my God, Ridge, what the hell was that?” she says astounded and laughing.

“I believe you just asked me a question, angel.”

“To hell with the no-question thing. I can’t even think straight.”

“So I scrambled your brain?”

“You scrambled my everything.”

I chuckle. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Yes, you do that. And if you want to do any of that other stuff again, please, be my guest.”

I turn her in my arms, so we are nose to nose. “This is crazy you know? I wanted to hate you this morning, and now I’ve fucked you scrambled. How did you manage that?”

“You’re going to have to answer that one yourself. Most of what happened was all you.”

“Ah, but you started it when you came up close behind me in the kitchen.”

She wrinkles up her nose. “Yeah, I guess I did. Do you regret it?”

“Hell no, do you?”

“Nope. This is now my favorite snowstorm pastime.”

“Yeah? Well, I’d like to propose we move to Alaska then.”

She giggles and nuzzles against my chest.

“I like you, Ridge Noble. You’re full of surprises.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“I’m glad Stella suggested I bring you your dinner.”

“You and me both.”