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Ashton Scott

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He cuts me off as he spins me around so his body is pressed up hard against mine. With his arm around my waist, fingers digging into my flesh, and his mouth to my ear, he growls, “When I come home, I’ll be so fucking hard for you that I’ll take you over my lap and fucking spank those thoughts out of you.”

My legs turn weak.

He really does have me under his spell now.

“You should hurry home,” I whisper.

His fingers dig into my skin harder. “I will. And when I get back, you should be ready to block a day off in your diary for me. We’ll have a lot of catching up to do.”

Something Ashton doesn’t realise is that I would block off as many days for him as he wants. That’s how far under his spell I am.

28

Ashton

Entering my hotel room after my mid-morning run, I kick my shoes off and collapse into a chair. Sucking back as much water as I can from my drink bottle, I take a few moments to catch my breath after taking the stairs rather than the lift. The run did me good. Cleared my head after little sleep and a crappy meeting with the heads of my construction crew. They weren’t able to give me much information, so I’ve pushed them harder to find out what the hell happened.

Flicking my wrist, I check the time on my watch and convert it to Sydney time. It’s almost two thirty there. Picking up the phone, I call Lorelei.

She takes so long to answer that I’m almost convinced she’s not going to. When she finally does answer, she’s breathless. “Shit,” she mutters, right before a loud clattering sound cuts her off.

Chuckling, I say, “Are you okay?”

Silence for a beat, and then in a cranky voice she grumbles, “Bloody hell, I just dropped my phone and the glass shattered.”

“I can have Jessica organise a new phone for you.”

She’s silent again for a moment. “Thank you,” she says softly.

“You don’t need to thank me, Lorelei.” She sounds so stressed. I’ll do anything to take that stress away.

“No,” she says and then pauses briefly. “I’m not thanking you for offering to get me a new phone, which by the way I can organise myself, but I really appreciate the offer. I’m thanking you for not chastising me for dropping it in the first place or for not having it in a case to prevent it from breaking. I appreciate that even more.”

I sit up straight. “You’re clearly speaking from experience.” The thought of anyone chastising her irritates the hell out of me.

“Yes.”

“Who?” I demand.

She exhales. “It doesn’t matter, Ashton. Can we forget I even said anything?”

“It matters to me. Who did that to you?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No.”

“It was one of my exes, Dean. Don’t get me wrong, he was a good guy, but sometimes he made me feel useless. Like I was a woman who couldn’t fend for herself and who needed a man to swoop in and save me.”

My chest tightens with anger, but that’s probably more because this conversation is bringing up childhood memories I’d rather forget. My father treated my mother that way. I hated watching her shrink under his reprimands and belittling. I swore I’d never treat a woman that way, and I never have.

“I hope to God I never meet that man,” I say as I grip my phone harder. “Promise me that if I ever say anything that makes you feel useless, you’ll tell me. I never want to make you feel less than the amazing woman you are.”

Silence again. And then she says, “Sometimes you just say the exact right thing, Ashton Scott. If you were with me right now, I’d have my hand in your pants, wrapped around your cock, and I’d be ready to do anything you want.”

“Fuck, woman,” I mutter as I stand. “Have you been practicing your dirty talk this morning?”

“What can I say? You inspire me.”



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