Page 105 of Silver Fox's Secret Baby

“I lost my mom too. I’m not an outside perspective.”

Ash’s eyes singe shut. “Right. I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.” He takes a deep breath. “You and your dad had time to prepare. I didn’t. Rose was in an accident. I wasn’t ready for life to change like that. I don’t mean that losing Heather, losing your mom, was any less painful. I just wasn’t ready. I’m still not ready and it’s been fifteen years.”

I can’t help myself. I reach out and grab his hand. I know he feels that we’re different, but we’re not. We’re just not. I can feel him try to jerk away from me at first before settling into my touch.

His hand is warm and soft. Tucking my fingers into his palm makes them nearly disappear. It feels so nice. Not in that electric way I expected, but like lowering yourself into a warm bath. With bubbles and nice candles. Therapeutic in a way. “It’s really hard,” I say gently.

“It is.” Ash’s hand tightens on mine. I swear I feel him tug on my hand slightly. Does he want me closer? It’s all I’ve ever wanted.

But no. No, I can’t. Not with my dad’s best friend. I withdraw suddenly and get to my feet. “Okay, back to work,” I announce and make my way back to the dining room, warm-faced and wobbly.

Ash calls out my name and follows me. I can’t bear to look back. If the tug on my arm was my imagination, I need to get out of here. If it wasn’t… I still need to get out of here.

I shuffle through papers as if it’s purposeful. Ash appears in the door, but I don’t look at him. “I don’t know, I’m still not settled on how the tables should be set up.”

“Then let’s take a look,” he says, his voice low and calm.

But instead of going to the opposite side of the table like we had been working the hour before, he comes up behind me, looking over my shoulder at the documents. I lean forward and slide the table arrangement blueprints back toward us. I point at something, anything. “This might be more conducive to foot traffic.”

“Mm… I see what you mean,” Ash replies. He puts his hand on the table by my hip and leans over my shoulder to look.

I can feel my heartbeat in my mouth. His closeness can’t be an accident, can it? “What do you think?” I ask and turn my face toward him.

Ash looks back at me with hard intensity in his green eyes. His tongue quickly wets his lips. “I think I’m not thinking about table arrangements right now.”

I stare back at him, terror and arousals mixing in my pelvis.

Ash apprehensively pushes a lock of my hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear and I swoon at his touch, my eyes shutting and a sigh slipping from between my lips. This feels like a dream, one I’ve had a million times and played out every aspect in such a way that it never could have happened.

Until now.

Ash cups the side of my face in his broad hand and then brings his lips to meet mine. I’m kissing Ashton Hawthorn. In fact,hekissedme.

He wants me. After all this time I’ve yearned for him.

I put my hand up against his chest and I can feel his heart thumping faster than the average beat.

Ash pulls away too soon for my liking and so I follow after his lips for more, pushing myself onto the tips of my toes and wrapping my arms around his neck to kiss him as deeply as possible. He grunts into my lips and wraps his arms around me.

There is no hesitation in our closeness. Chest to chest, hips to hips. I can feel all of him. His hardness.

He wants me. And I’ll let him have me. If only once. I can deal with the guilt of just once.

For now, I cast any trepidation far away.

“Rye,” Ash growls against me. “I want you so bad.”

I run my hands through the wavy locks of dark hair. “Have me. Have me now.”

Ash takes this as literally as he can. He pins me up against the lip of the table by his hips and in a fluid motion I’ve only ever seen in movies, swipes everything off the dining room table. Papers fly, the vase and lilies crash to the ground, I gasp. Ash kisses me and guides me back onto the table, in total control. Just the way I’ve always imagined he would be.

He drags his kisses down to my neck, his scruff scraping up against my skin. I moan. He could keep doing just that and I’d probably come.

For all the gentleness we gave one another outside, there is none here. As he works my neck, he aggressively undoes my jeans and pulls them down, leaving my panties exposed, a black mesh thong with a little bow. He lifts his head and smooths his thumbs over my hip bones. He swallows thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I want to taste you.”

I’m at a loss for words.

Ash hooks his arms under my knees and lifts so my lower back is raised off the table. I let out a laugh of nervousness. He leans into my crotch and pushes his face into my panties, inhaling deeply. “Oh, fuck,” he says, eyes rolling back. “You’re not supposed to smell this good.”

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