I laugh as she walks away. To be honest, my grandmother is damn entertaining, and every now and then she does something that reminds me of my mom—like the way she sleeps on the very edge of her bed or the way she covers her mouth when she laughs. On the other hand, when she acts like a high-class snob, it’s completely annoying and embarrassing. While she intends to turn me into a clone of her while I live in her house for the next nine months until I graduate, my intention is to take the snobbery out of her. It’ll be a challenge, that’s for damn sure.
At five o’clock, my grandmother announces that she’s taking the whole family into the city for dinner. Supposedly she made reservations at The Pump Room, which she said is some fancy place where celebrities in Chicago eat. Gus has learned in the past two days that it’s better to follow my grandmother’s orders than to fight her. I think she’s what he needed all along, a crazy lady to make him interact with the family instead of escaping it. I would go, but to be honest, looking at Ashtyn all night across a table and knowing I’m leaving her in a few days isn’t what I’d call a fun evening.
I’ve managed to clean out the entire shed when it’s suddenly dark outside. I get a flashlight from the house and put the shelves up, then hang all the tools back on the wall.
“Stop, or I’m calling the police!” a familiar feminine voice says from behind me.
Ashtyn is standing in the doorway, holding her signature pitchfork like it’s a weapon. It’s dark, but the small glow of the flashlight shines on the metal in her hands.
I give her a small smile and walk up to the pitchfork so it’s an inch away from my chest. “You really don’t want to stab me,” I tell her.
She lowers the weapon. “You’re right.”
I take the pitchfork out of her hand and toss it outside, far away from my foot. “What are you doin’ here? I thought you’d gone with everyone else to the city.”
“I decided to stay.” There’s no mistaking the seductive tone of her voice.
She steps closer. From the small amount of light, I can tell she’s wearing a hockey jersey and nothing else. My eyes rake over her half-clad body, unable to look away.
I swallow, hard. It’s dark and the flashlight is losing battery fast. When I met Ashtyn, I had no clue what she’d do to me. Every time I’m near her, I want to push her away and pull her close at the same time. She talks like a jock but has a body like an angel. She knows I’m leaving, but she’s here with me now . . .
“Why did you stay home tonight?” I ask.
The flashlight flickers, then it goes completely dark when she reaches out for me and whispers in my ear, “Because of you.”
Chapter 52
Ashtyn
I sat on my bed for an hour before I gathered enough nerve to come to the shed tonight. I know Derek’s leaving, but I want him to remember what it felt like to be with someone who loved him unconditionally. I tell myself not to be emotional, to be happy that we could have this one last night together. I never imagined I’d fall so hard for someone, especially after knowing him for such a short time, but I have.
I never believed in love at first sight, until I met Derek. It’s all-consuming and delicious and wonderful and exciting. At the same time, it makes me nervous and self-conscious and emotional. Love exists. I know it does, because I’m madly, deeply, hopelessly in love.
Wrapping my arms around Derek’s neck, I feel his hands on my waist as he pulls me close. We kiss, and I open my mouth to deepen the intimacy. His tongue is lost in my mouth and mine in his.
“Once we start this, I’m not gonna want to stop,” he says in a hoarse, deep voice.
“Me neither.”
Without another word, I close my eyes while his fingers hook onto the bottom of my jersey, and slowly, tantalizingly, he slips the material over my sensitive skin and tosses it aside.
It’s dark. We can’t see anything, but I can hear the sexy rasp of his breathing and feel the slow, sensual feel of his hands on my skin.
I reach out and roam my fingers over the muscles of his biceps and trace the hard, solid lines of his perfect, defined abs and pecs. “I lied to you,” I tell him as my fingers move over the waistband of his shorts and follow the line of hair that leads downward.
“Mmm . . .’bout what?”
“I said I wasn’t affected or impressed by your body.” I kiss his neck and the musky scent of maleness envelops my senses. I move my kisses lower, to his chest, his abs, and lower. “I lied.”
He throws his head back, and his hand weaves into my hair as I show him how much I appreciate his body. From the ragged sound of his breathing I know he likes it. A lot.
“My turn,” he says in a strained voice after a while. I let out a surprised shriek when he scoops me up and has me sit on the empty new workbench in front of him.
He kisses me senseless and I move against him, wanting more, wanting him, wanting this night to last forever. Our bodies are slick with sweat now, and we’re both panting and struggling to make this last longer, but I sense we’re both holding on by a thin thread. My hands roam over his glorious body while I taste his mouth and he tastes mine.
He replaces his mouth with the tip of his forefinger, lightly moving it over my lips before dipping his finger inside my mouth so I can suck on it.
I lean back while he removes his finger from my mouth and moves it gently and passionately over my body. At some point his finger gets replaced by his mouth and tongue. When I feel his hot breath on my slick skin, my entire body tingles.
“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” I pant.
“Yeah, I do,” he says in a hoarse, deep voice as he removes the rest of his clothes. I hear the rip of a condom wrapper and my body goes still.
“Did you get that from your wallet?” I ask him.
“Yeah.”
“I thought you didn’t carry a condom in your wallet.”
He chuckles, and I can imagine his lips are curved into a mischievous grin. “Secret compartment.”