I pump her hard and press one finger into her ass**le. “You may come, Ashleigh.” As soon as her name comes out of my mouth she moans and I feel the gush of wetness as her pu**y and ass clench around my fingers. She must’ve been primed before I ever walked into the room. She presses back against my chest and instead of moving away like I normally would, I push back, pinning her fully beneath me against the wall and dipping my mouth down to bite her on the shoulder. Her body is less resistant now and this is the part I like. When they just give in. I’m just about to push her down on her knees so she can take me in her mouth when I glance up and see her hand pressed up against the wall.
I forgot she was wearing a f**king ring. I pull away and she almost falls down. “Fuck!”
“What?” she asks, getting her balance back after her orgasm. I just stare at her finger. “What?” she asks again.
“You’re married. Fuck!”
I go back into the room, grab a pair of sweats from the dresser, and walk back out into the hallway. I stop in front of her—so f**king hard I almost poke her with my dick—and shake my head. “You’re f**king married. I do not, do not, f**k around with married woman. I’m sorry. The whiskey…”
“I’m not married,” she says softly. And then she looks down at her ring. It’s not a huge diamond, but it’s respectable. “I was… I’m just engaged.”
I belt out a little laugh. “Close e-fucking-nough for me, Ashleigh.”
I pull the sweats on right in front of her and walk away.
Chapter Eleven
“Ford.” A hand is touching me.
I shrug it off, roll over and go back to sleep.
“Ford,” the f**king hand that should not be touching me but is, says again.
“Stop touching me,” I growl. The hand pulls back from my shoulder.
“It’s like, afternoon. You’ve been sleeping all day. I just wanted to make sure you’re not dead.”
“Clearly I am not dead.”
“Yes, OK.” She stands up and it’s only then that I realize she was sitting down next to me.
I lift my head up and watch her walk to the stairs. Her ass was touching me. And it didn’t even wake me up. “Wait.” She hesitates but does not stop. She climbs the stairs instead. I listen for a few minutes as she walks all over the place. To the kitchen. Down by the bedrooms. Then back to the kitchen. And finally to the living room where she stops. She must’ve sat down.
I let out a long breath and pinch the bridge of my nose with my fingertips. I am not hungover. I do not get hungover. I swing my feet off the side of the couch and get dizzy.
Maybe I’m a little hungover.
I lie down and fall back asleep.
I feel her this time. She sits next to me again, her ass pressed up against my lower leg. “Ford?”
“Ashleigh, I’m sleeping.”
“No,” she says. “You’re doing something, but sleeping is not it. Maybe you did drink a lot last night. The bottle is only half full, so I guess that’s a lot of whiskey. But you went to bed early. Before midnight. And right now it’s four in the afternoon. So that’s a lot of f**king sleep.”
Her swearing makes me look up because so far she’s kept her language clean.
She smiles as she shrugs. “It got your attention.”
I lay my head back down but I smile into the soft leather cushion. “You’ve got my attention. The question now is…” I lift my head again and turn so I can see her reaction clearly. “What do you want to do with it?” She looks down and I follow her gaze to her left hand. The ring is gone. “You took off your ring. Is that what you want me to know?”
She nods.
“Speak.”
“Yes.”
“Why? Why do you want me to know that, Ashleigh?” Her name comes out a lot softer than I mean it to and that evokes a feeling of desire in me. I want her, I realize. Maybe just the blow job I didn’t get last night, or maybe even an actual f**k. But either way, I’m not done with her yet.
My softening attitude gives her some courage and she meets my gaze.
“Because I’m sorry about last night. And I don’t want you to feel bad about it. I’m not engaged.”
“Any longer, you mean. You’re not engaged any longer.”
“Right.”
I twist my body so I’m lying on my back and I can see her clearly. I’m not one for conversation with strangers, but she’s interested in something. Me. She’s interested in me. I put my hands behind my neck and enjoy her squirming. “And you want me to understand this, the fact that you are not promised to another man… why?”
She hesitates, opens her mouth, closes it again, looks at me, looks away.
I laugh. “Speak, Ashleigh. Or this conversation is over and you can go back upstairs.”
“Because you felt good last night.”
“You didn’t even touch me. I touched you. So what you really mean is that I made you feel good last night, correct?”
“Yes,” she says. A quick learner, too. Not nodding her head but using words as I asked. “And I’d like a next time.”
I smile. The first real smile in… fuck, I have no idea how long. And then she blushes and I have to pretend to scratch the stubble on my chin to hide my pleasure.
“Even,” she adds, “if you won’t take requests.”
This remark makes me laugh. “Is that so?”