Ash to Steele (30 page)

   I know that he cares about me.  I don’t want to be
cared
about.  Or controlled.  I want to be loved.  I want him to love me like I love him.  “I know,” I sigh, leaning my head against Gavin’s chest. 

   We dance for a few songs before he leads me back to the bar, where Jess pours me three shots of tequila.  Gavin places salt and a lime in front of me.  “I know your birthday is in a couple of days, but it looks like you’re getting drunk tonight.”

   “She’s never been drunk,” Jess laughs, placing the shots in front of me, “this should be fun.”

   Gavin spins me around, “Never?”

   “Nope, never, woozy a few times, but never drunk,” I admit.

   Gavin winks at Jess, “Our boy is really going to miss it.”  Grabbing the shot glass, he hands it to me, “Since Breck hasn’t corrupted you yet, I get to pop your cherry.”

   “I don’t know if I want to get drunk.”

   “Oh, yes, you do,” Jess encourages, taking my hand and putting it to my lips, “drink all of it at once like you did the tequila shot last night.”

   My cell phone buzzes.  When I see Breck’s picture, I throw my head back and pour the tequila down my throat.  It burns every bit as much as it did last night. 

   Gavin slides my phone towards him and the limes towards me, “Lick your hand.”

   I do as he asks, and he pours salt between my thumb and forefinger.

   “Now, lick it again and take a suck of this,” he instructs, picking up a lime and squeezing hot sauce on it. 

   I lick the salt then squeeze the lime into my mouth.  The hot, sour juice causes me to scrunch my nose and squeeze my eyes shut.  I feel the rim of the shot glass against my lips before my eyes can stop watering. 

   “Drink,”  I hear Gavin command. 

  My throat feels like it’s in flames between the tequila and hot sauce, and I almost gag.

   “You throw up, I’ll double your shots,” Gavin teases.  “If you are going to hang with me, you have to be able to handle more than a few sips of beer and a couple of shots.  Drink, sweetheart.”  He hands me the third one. 

   I follow the same steps as before, then throw my head back and let the tequila sear my tongue and throat as it warms my chest all the way down to my stomach.  Jess places another three shots in front of me, and I nod at Gavin, “You’re not drinking?”

   “I’m going to enjoy watching you getting pissed tonight.  Hell, I might take a few compromising pics and upload them before the night’s through,” he teases, messing with my phone.

   “You won’t live to see daylight if you do.”

   “She’s already getting feisty, Jess,” Gavin laughs, “this should be good.”

   Three shots later, Gavin takes my hand and leads me back to the dance floor.  My head spins when he twirls me in front of him and yanks me back.  The room seems to still be twirling as I crash against his chest, feeling the rumble of his laughter as he holds me steady against him, “Damn, girl, I think the tequila has just hit you.  Time for a few more shots.”

   My head is fuzzy as I down my seventh, or maybe my eighth shot, they’re starting to run together.  The band plays a Nickelback song, and I pull Gavin onto the dance floor this time.  When I feel a familiar hand against my lower back, I spin around, wishing I hadn’t.   

   Stumbling backwards, Breck grabs my arms, pulling me towards him, “Easy, Em.” 

   When my nose brushes against his neck and I smell his intoxicating scent, I almost forget that I’m mad at him.  Almost.  Jerking my arms free, I go to walk away, but he grabs me again, stopping me. 

   “Emma, we need to talk.”

   “I have nothing to say to you!  Now, as you so eloquently put it earlier, get your damn hands off me.”

   Breck glances at Gavin, “How much has she had to drink?”

   “Oh, she’s pretty pissed.”

   Shoving two of my fingers in Breck’s face, I glare at him, “And, he’s referring to both meanings of that word.”

   Gavin turns his head, covering his mouth with his hand, trying hard not to laugh at my slurred speech.  Breck does, and it pisses me off further.  “I’m taking you home, Emma.”

   “The hell you are.  I’m staying, so stop being an asshole and telling me what to do,” I cross my arms, trying very hard to not sway as the lights dance circles around me, screwing with my already inebriated balance.

   
“You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met, and you’re developing a filthy mouth! I will only ask you once more, Emma,” Breck states, taking a step closer.  His eyes blaze with a warning, a dare, and a hint of amusement, causing me to jut my chin out further in defiance.  I watch him take in my ‘I don’t give a damn what you think’ glare and he cocks his eyebrow and smirks.  Bastard. 

   “I need you to come with me now,” Breck tells me slowly, like he assumes I need help comprehending his words.

   I shoot him a flaming glare of barely contained wrath, “No, I told you that I’m done with all the bullshit.” 

   His amusement vanishes, replaced by a fierce determination and a furious scowl as he presses his lips tightly together and his jaw clenches.  Before I can even guess of what his reaction will be, he wraps his hand around my arm and pulls me towards the door.  His grip is firm, dominate, but doesn’t match the anger radiating from the rest of him.  Judging by the embers blazing dark blue, I would swear he wants to kill me, but his grip doesn’t hurt, it’s just humiliating.  

   “Let go of me,” I yell at him, digging in my heels while trying to pry his hand from my arm.  I’m a little surprised when his grip loosens, and I give him a satisfied, smartass smirk as I turn to go, but I quickly realize that wasn’t the wisest thing to do when he lifts me and tosses me over his shoulder. 

   Furious, my temper is thrust full force and I slam my fists against his back, demanding him to put me down.  I can feel the heat searing my cheeks as my fury flames out of control when he ignores me, continuing to make his way through the packed crowd.  Twisting and hitting, I continue to struggle to free myself, but his hold is too strong.  When the door opens, I look back at Gavin, raking my bouncing hair out of my face, “Make him put me down!”

   Gavin bites his lip, obviously trying to hide his smile, but failing miserably.  Instead of help, he only offers me a quick shrug of his shoulder and I scream in frustration, deciding he’s a bastard, too. Twisting harder against Breck’s unrelenting hold, I command one last time, “You can’t just throw me over your shoulder anytime you want to talk and I refuse, dammit, now, put me down!”

   Breck ignores me.

  “Breck, put me down or, I swear, I’ll call the cops.”

   “I’ll put you down once you’re in my car, then I’ll hand you the damn phone myself,” Breck spits back, tightening his grip. 

   Tired, and realizing that it’s useless anyway, I give up squirming and defeatedly succumb to his control as my mind furiously races between loathing his actions and finding it infuriatingly arousing.   His strength shocks me, especially with how I fought like hell, but he didn’t budge, holding me firmly in place without hurting me.  

   Breck opens the driver’s side door and eases his grip as he finally slides me down his shoulder and chest before plopping me onto the seat.  “Scoot over,” he demands, his glare not giving me an option to argue. 

   I can’t meet his gaze.  My emotions are spinning too wildly out of control for me to be able to process my conflicting feelings of his treatment.  Quietly, I slide over to the passenger seat and stare straight ahead as he climbs in and slams his door.

   “Still want to call the cops?” Breck asks, his voice stern but not as harsh as before.

   I don’t respond, just sit there motionlessly and silently fume. 

   Breck tosses his cell in my lap and cranks the engine, “Be my guest, but until they arrive you will listen to what I have to say without opening your smart mouth until I’m done.” 

   Finding the strength to meet his glare, I shoot him a scathing one, “Stop telling me what to do!”

   “Then stop being bitchy long enough for me to have the chance to apologize for earlier tonight.”

   “Calling me a bitch isn’t even close to a good way to start off an apology!” I snap. 

   “I didn’t call you a bitch, I said you were being bitchy, but you are dangerously close to becoming one right now.” Turning into an abandoned parking lot, Breck cuts the engine and turns towards me.  He watches as I force myself to meet his gaze even though my breathing is shallow and my hands are shaking.  Breck’s eyes lower to my hands and I hear panic in his voice when he asks. “Are you okay, Emma?  I didn’t hurt you back there, did I?”

   Hearing the guilt that has suddenly softened him, I’m tempted to lie, wanting him to suffer and writhe in that guilt for the treacherous emotions he’s causing to riot inside of me.  The pain in his eyes stops me, and I whisper, “No, you didn’t hurt me.”  Anger causes my cheeks to flush again as I chastise myself for trying to make him feel better when he just humiliated me in front of at least one hundred people after he already humiliated me in front of my boss a little over an hour ago.

   Breck places his hand over mine, soothingly rubbing his thumb over my fingers, and my anger dissipates as he looks at me with repentant eyes.  “I’m sorry, okay!  I was a bastard,
I am a bastard
, I should’ve let you handle Braden and I know you wouldn’t have let him cross a line.  And I know you’ve told Justin where he stands. I just was pissed off and acted like a huge ass.”

   “I agree,” I pout.

   “With which part?” Breck teases, giving me a wink.

  “All of it,” I reply truthfully.

   “Fair enough,” Breck says barely above a whisper while he continues to hold my hand, his eyes studying me, searching mine.  I see a myriad of emotions, but it’s the fear in them that breaks my heart, sucking all the anger right out of me.

   Breck squeezes my hand. “C’mon, Em, you’ve got to tell me if we can move past this or if your earlier words still stand and I should take your advice and go to hell.”

   Letting out a long, slow breath, I pull my hand from his, desperately missing the warmth of his touch as soon as my fingers are no longer tangled up in his, “I’m sorry I said that to you.”

   “I deserved it.”

   “Yes, you did, but I still shouldn’t have said it.”  Raising my eyes to his again, I can’t keep the hurt out of my voice as I ask, “Why can’t you just trust me?”

   “I do trust you, Emma.”

   “No, you don’t.  If you did, you would’ve let me handle Braden, and you would-” I stop, remembering Jess’ words about not pushing.  I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or being so damn tired of not knowing, but I continue, “you would tell me what makes you so guarded.”

   His eyes darken and he stares blindly out the window, “If I made you feel like I don’t trust you, I’m sorry.  I trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone, Emma.  You just have to believe me when I tell you that.”

   I know I shouldn’t, but I do. 

   “And, Emma?”

   “What?”

   Breck looks at me, his agonizing sorrow ripping out my soul, “When you said you were done and drove away from me tonight, you terrified the hell out of me. I hate fear.  I don’t do fear well.  Don’t ever do that again, Emma.”

   I know what he did was wrong, over the top insanely jealous, but I shouldn’t have left him when I saw his face, his panic; that was just as cruel as what he said to me. My chest aches and my voice is raw, “I didn’t mean that I’m done with you. I meant that I was done with the jealousy.”  Placing my hand on his cheek, I press my lips against his.  Even if I tried like hell, I could never be done with him.  

   “I can taste just how much fun you’ve had in the past hour,” he grins, licking his bottom lip, “tequila is even more intoxicating when I’m drinking it from your lips.”  Breck stares at me for several long seconds before cranking the car.  “What was Braden congratulating you for?”

   “I’ve been offered a full website design project which could get me a promotion.”

   He’s silent for a few seconds before squeezing my hand, “That’s great.  Is that what you want, though?  I mean, you don’t seem too thrilled about working at Shallonelles.”

   “It’s a good opportunity,” I reply, leaving it at that. 

  I guess he senses my ambivalence because a wicked smile spreads across his lips when he turns towards me again, “Hmm…cussing, getting drunk, and telling me to go to hell; I’m thinking there should be some serious consequences for those actions coming from preacher’s daughter.  I’ll have fun thinking of some on the way to your apartment.”

  That catches my attention, and I squint my eyes, trying to figure out if he’s serious or teasing.  It’s infuriatingly unfair that he can read my every thought but I can’t figure out anything about him, unless he wants me to know. 

   “Prepare yourself, Emma,” he warns as he pulls to a stop in front of my apartment.

   When he grabs my arm and hauls me on top of his lap, I feel his hard tip that’s pressing against my groin and I hope
that
finally claiming me is his intentions.    

Chapter Fifteen

 
Pissed – In Both Ways

Breck

   I hear Emma’s shallow breathing as she squirms on my lap, engorging my already rock hard state into a throbbing shaft.  The alcohol has loosened her and I laugh.

   “What’s so funny, Mr. Steele?” she smirks, rubbing her ass over my swelled head. 

   Repressing a need-filled groan, I lift her into my arms, slamming the car door.  She doesn’t protest this time, just giggles, as I hold her close to me and run up the stairs.  She tries to get down when we reach her door, but I hold her against my chest with one arm as I smack her bottom loudly, “Stay put!”

   I hear her gasp and I know it’s from shock; I didn’t hit her hard enough to cause pain.  She does as asked and stops squirming so I can get us inside.  As soon as I open the door, the aroma of her apartment fills my nose with her own unique scent of peaches, jasmine, and paint.  God, I love that smell. 

   “Can I get down now?” she pouts as I head straight for her room and I playfully smack her ass again.

   Closing the bedroom door with my foot, I toss her on the bed and she bounces, giggling some more.  She’s wasted, pissed –
in both ways,
horny, riled up and ready to rumble, but, mostly, she’s too inquisitive, too needing to dissect my rash actions from earlier.  This is why I plan on giving her something that will distract her from anything else.  I’ll continue to suffer in my need-filled agony, but Emma’s getting ready to experience another first – two firsts, actually. I’m not sure which I’m going to enjoy most.

   “Take off your clothes, including your panties,” I demand, thoroughly enjoying the obvious conflict raging inside of her.  I know she wants me; she has for a long time, but other than after the attack, she hasn’t asked me to make love to her, the guilt and uncertainty are still inside of her. Tonight, those are weakened a little by the tequila.

   “What are you going to do?” Emma asks, her eyes hopeful, “Are you – I mean - are we going to make love, Breck?”

   My erection cocks painfully, having a mind of its own and demanding that I appease her, but I won’t, not while she’s drunk.  I won’t leave her suffering though, not with what I have in mind.  “No, Emma, not tonight.”

   Her bottom lip puffs out slightly, and I want to bite it.  “I don’t understand,” she mumbles, her voice still slightly slurred from the drinks Gavin poured into her to keep her there until I arrived.  She’d be furious if she knew, but I’m not telling. 

   “I want to touch you, Emma, skin to skin, and I want to taste you, all of you.”

   Emma bolts upright on the bed, her gaze fixated on mine, then she freezes.  I sit down next to her, grabbing her waist and setting her in my lap, “I won’t do it if you don’t want me to. I feel like shit for how I acted earlier, and I just need you to trust me. I need to be in control of things you don’t understand.  I want to prove to you tonight that I can control myself.  I will give you a release, Emma, and I won’t try anything further than that.  I want to prove you can trust me.”

   Her head drops and she lays it against my chest.

  I hold her like that for a minute before taking her chin, forcing her to look at me, “Do you trust me?”

   I see the trust in her eyes before the confirmation slips from her tongue.

   “Then strip. Shirt, jeans,
and
panties.”

   She doesn’t hesitate this time, removing her shirt and letting it fall to the floor before sliding her jeans and white lace panties down her long, slender legs.  I stand, doing the same, stripping my shirt and jeans, leaving on only my black briefs, which shows exactly how much I want her.  Emma’s gaze falls to my very hardened length bulging against the thin cotton, and her cheeks blush.  Her tongue runs across her bottom lip, and she takes a step towards me, her fingers resting on the edge of the black cotton. “Are you going to take these off?”

   When her fingertips slide inside, I grab her wrists, “Damn, Emma, I said I wouldn’t do anything more than give you a release tonight but, if you touch me, all bets are off.  I am human and a man, my control can only go so far.  There are rules tonight.  I touch you everywhere.  You - you touch me anywhere you like
except
where I’m covered.  Got it?”

  Disappointment flitters through her eyes, and I laugh, knowing that won’t last long.  She’s still standing when I take her wrist and pull it so she falls over my knees.  She squirms a little, and I rest my hand on her lower back.  She feels so damn good, better than I imagined she would feel bent over my lap the night I had jokingly threatened to spank her.  Her breasts are tucked against the outside of my thighs, the soft mounds teasing my skin, and her stomach warms my legs while it mercilessly tortures the rest of my lower region.  I know she feels every last hardened inch of me pressing against her belly.  She squirms again, and it takes every ounce of my self-control to not throw her on the bed and ravish her until we are covered in sweat and neither one of us can move. 

   “Tell me what’s making you nervous?” I breathe in her ear as I lean down and brush her hair away from her face so I can see her eyes. 

   “I-I still don’t understand.”

   “What don’t you understand, Emma?”

   “For starters, why am I over your knees?”

   “You are at my mercy this way,” I tease before turning serious, “what you are going to feel is going to be new for you and intense.”  Her body stiffens slightly and I rub my hand soothingly against the small of her back.  “I just want to feel your trust, but we don’t have to do this, you can get up right now; I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

   Her body slowly relaxes, going limp on my lap, “I do trust you.  Do whatever you want to me.”

  
Damn, the woman knows how to bring me to my knees
.  “I won’t do anywhere near everything I want to do to you, but I will make a small dent tonight. I’m going to touch you now, Emma.  If you want me to stop, just tell me.” 

   Gently, I rub my hand over the full, firm cheeks of her bottom, forcing myself not to impale my shaft inside of her, claiming what’s never been touched, especially with her delicious naked ass in my lap.  I haven’t seen her naked since the night of the attack and rage boils inside of me at the memory.  Taking a deep, cleansing breath, I look down at her, so trusting, vulnerable, and open for
me
.  She’s safe, I won’t let anyone hurt her again.  Tracing the line of the soft swell of the bottom of her cheeks, I run my fingertips around the sensual curves, wanting to dig my fingers in her hips and brand her with me, fill her with my juices, completely claiming her. 

   Slipping my hand lower, I run my finger gently against her folds and feel the moist heat already begging for my touch.  She gasps, quivering and spreading her legs slightly; that does bring me to my knees.  My voice is thick, husky as I look at her, “Emma, you are so wet, baby.”

   A scarlet flush spreads across her cheeks and she turns her head away, pressing it against the mattress. 

   “Look at me,” I demand.  Slowly, she meets my gaze, that shy vulnerability weakening me.  “Feeling you wet, for me, that’s a very good thing in my eyes, please, don’t be embarrassed, okay?”

   One small nod is my response.

   “Give me your hands,” I gently command. 

   She stiffens again, her body shifting against my legs. 

   “Trust me, Emma.  Give me your hands.”

   Her fingers tremble slightly as she lays her right arm against her back.  I grab her wrist, holding it tightly in my hand.  She hesitates, then slowly submits her other wrist. Her heart is pounding so forcefully, I can feel it beating against the tops of my thighs.  Taking both her wrists securely in my hand, I watch her.  She’s not afraid-nervous as hell-but not afraid. 

   I slide my finger down the length of her again, the wet sheen left on my skin shows just how much she wants me.  Unable to help myself, I playfully bring my hand down against the rounded flesh of both cheeks, right in the center, and she jumps.  “I’ve been waiting to do that since you were a smartass and refused to get in the car after the presentation,” I smirk.

   “I thought you didn’t like delivering pain, only pleasure?” she rasps, her body once again relaxed on top of my lap.

   Circling my fingers over the soft pink print my hand just left, I slip them lower to another soft pink spot, “Oh, I think I’m delivering some serious pleasure right about now.  Besides, I vividly remember telling you that I like giving a few sensual smacks on the ass every once in awhile, and, by the feel of you, you aren’t minding it too much.”

   She squirms against me, causing my already hardened state to engorge painfully and a hearty laugh to erupt through my throat at the same time. Grinning, I lean down close to her again, “I’m not going to spank you anymore.  There’s no need for you to choose a safe word, just in case you were wondering.”

   “Smartass.”  Her smile spreads across the side of her face that I can see, and I literally ache for her.