TAUT (9 page)

Where else would she be, Ford? She’s totally dependent on you.

“Don’t start with me right now, internal monologue.” I laugh a little at that. The house is mostly dark. Only the small light over the stove is on. I go to the kitchen looking for signs of dinner, but it’s spotless. I open the fridge and squint at what’s in there.

Next to the microbrews I bought at Safeway, in front of the bowl of leftover salad, is a plate. It’s got a little sticky note on it that says,
Ford
.

Fuck. She’s one of those
considerate
people.

I take out the plate. It’s got clear Saran wrap over it, so I slip it into the microwave, then scarf down the salad while I wait. By the time the microwave beeps I’ve eaten half the bowl. I put it aside and dig into the meal.

It’s good. Chicken and rice is chicken and rice, and maybe I’m just half-starved, but it’s fucking better than good. It’s delicious.

I eat standing up and then put all my crap into the sink.

The drunk feeling is subsiding and now all I can think about is a shower. I find my way to the bathroom in the dark hallway and lock myself in there, the steam and calming white noise echoing through the bathroom, momentarily taking my mind off Rook.

She told Ronin I broke up with her.

I laugh out loud at that. Fucking Rook. She’s so adorable. What kind of girl tells her boyfriend that his best friend broke up with her?

My laugh dies. Because only a girl who has nothing to hide would say that to her boyfriend. And that’s what hurts right now. I’m so off her radar she can tell Ronin that and not even blink. She wasn’t worried about what
he
thought of that statement, she was worried about what
I
thought of that statement. That’s why she snapped at Ronin when he repeated it.

I lean against the tiled wall and let the water beat down on my head as the full impact of her words suddenly hit me. She’s not worried about what Ronin thinks because she knows nothing will ever come of her and me. Nothing. Ever.

I shut the shower down and dry off, then wrap the towel around my waist and go hunting for a toothbrush in the medicine cabinet. The girl already has hers out, sticking up out of a cup next to the sink. I open a new one for me, then some toothpaste and brush my teeth to chase away the whiskey.

I leave the bathroom and cross the hall to my room and flick on the light so I can find some clothes.

And stop dead.

That fucking girl is sleeping in my bed. Her shirt—actually, my shirt, it says
CU Buffs
on the sleeve—is pulled up to her neck, exposing her swollen breasts. Her nipples are large and a shade or two darker than her slightly olive skin. The baby is lying next to her, right up against her belly, but she’s also sleeping.

I flick the light off and stand in the doorway, backlit by the hall light.

“I’m awake,” Ashleigh says. “If you need clothes, just go ahead and turn on the light. I’m awake.”

I flick it back on and notice the shirt has been pulled down. “Sorry, I just assumed you’d be in the other room.”

“You said you were gonna sleep downstairs. Did you change your mind?”

I can’t speak for a moment, because it almost sounds like an invitation. I look at her. I mean, really look at her. She’s pretty, but not in any way beautiful or striking. More cute than anything. She has a curvy shape about her. Not so much her body, but her face, her features. They’re not angular and hard, they’re round and soft. Her eyes are large and brown, like her long hair, and they have a slight almond shape, like she has some Asian heritage. She’s small. Tiny really, for a girl who just gave birth a few months ago. She was probably one of those pregnant girls who are all belly and breasts.

“No, I didn’t change my mind. I just… need some clothes.”

“OK,” she says and then clutches the baby to her chest and turns over, exposing her pink panty-covered ass. It’s a stark contrast to the dark blue comforter as it peeks out. I have an urge to slap it.

I laugh at this and she turns back, this time without the baby. “What’s funny?”

I surrender with my hands up. “You wanted me to notice your ass when you turned? Mission accomplished. But I don’t like a tease, so don’t start something you can’t finish.”

She stares hard at me and I feel a little nervous about what kind of reaction she might have. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

I raise my eyebrows but I’m not sure what to say back. I might be at a loss for words.
I’m sure I can handle it
. “Is that a challenge? Or an offer?”

“Take it however you want.” She closes her eyes and then slips her hand between her legs. I’m not sure she’s doing anything naughty with it, but it’s provocative all the same. “Why are you still standing there?” she asks with her eyes still closed.

“I’m having trouble controlling myself, to be honest. I might just think of it as both an offer and a challenge.”

Her eyes open at my response and then she throws the covers off, baring her legs all the way up to her panties. She gets up and then walks out the door, shutting the light off as she goes.

I don’t let her get more than a few paces before I grab her around the middle and push her face first against the wall. I drop my towel and jam my thigh between her legs. “Open,” I growl into her ear.

She obeys without words and my dick expands to its full thickness as she presses her ass into me.

“What do you like, Ashleigh? You like it slow and tender? Because if so, you’re out of luck. I’m not that kind of guy.” I press my chest into her back and I can almost feel her rapidly beating heart.

“I like what you like,
Rutherford
.”

She says my name like she knows me intimately. It almost puts me off my game, because I’m not used to the women I fuck speaking, let alone addressing me by my given name. “You have no idea what I like and if I were you, I’d be careful what you agree to. Because I like it dirty and if I decide to fuck you, I’ll expect compliance.”

“Just get me off,” she says in a low whisper. I push my legs up against her thighs and feel my dick press up against her ass. She moans but I pull back and slip my hand in there instead. The same place where
her
hand was just a few seconds ago.

I rub her clit through her panties. She moans again. “I like that. Keep doing it,” she says in a breathy whisper.

I lean into her neck and nip her earlobe. “I will, because I’m tired and I want to go to bed, but if there’s a next time, I won’t be taking requests.”

My left hand slides up to her full breasts and I palm one. Her nipple bunches up under my fingertip and she lets out a moan. My right hand grabs under her knee and lifts her leg up to bring her ass even with my cock. She goes up on her tiptoes and whines a little as I take control. “Do you want me to stop, Ashleigh?”

She says nothing so I push her panties aside and slide my fingers around her pussy, not touching her clit at all. I get close and her ass presses up against me so I return the gesture, pushing her hips into the wall forcefully, pinning her with my legs. “Put your hands above your head and keep them there,” I command in a low throaty voice.

She obeys and at the same time I press against her sweet spot, then dip inside and rub her. Her juices coat my finger and if I wasn’t still a little drunk I’d throw her down on the floor and eat the shit out of her from behind. But I am drunk, so I move along so I can get her warm, wet mouth on my cock.

I pump her hard and press one finger into her asshole. “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 pussy 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 fucking 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 fucking hard I almost poke her with my dick—and shake my head. “You’re fucking married. I do not,
do not
, fuck 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 fucking 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 fucking 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 fuck. 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?”

She bites her lip and nods, then catches her mistake and whispers, “Yes.”

I kick off the blanket, forcing her to rise, then sit up on the couch properly and look up at her. She’s got on some dark gray leggings, another t-shirt from my closet—it says
You can have my ski poles when you pry them from my cold, dead hands
—and some of my white sport socks. I’m sure they’re mine, they’re huge on her and they’re all bunched up near her ankles. “Tell me, Ashleigh, what do you think I meant when I said I don’t take requests?”

Her chest rises and falls under my t-shirt, a little bit quicker than it was a few seconds ago. Like my question makes her nervous. “You like to be in control,” she finally says.

That’s a nice answer. Sometimes the girls say I like to give orders, but that’s not entirely true. Sometimes they say I want to force them, but that’s not even close. I get rid of those girls immediately. But control, that’s a good answer. Control is right on the money. “Yes, that’s what it means. Tell me what you see. What do you imagine it would be like? Having sex with me?”

“What?” she almost chokes.

“Describe it, Ashleigh.” Finally, she is uncomfortable. I don’t want to bother with girls who want to call the shots. I’d rather know now if she’s acceptable, otherwise I won’t waste my time.

She takes a deep breath and then blushes a bright pink.

Yes
.