Текст книги "Traded"
Автор книги: Rebecca Brooke
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
CHAPTER 7
Ashton
Watching Elena leave the room hurt. Physically hurt. My dick was so hard it took every ounce of my self-control to keep my ass in the chair. It would blow my softly-softly approach if I chased after her and chained her to my bed, although, that didn’t stop my mind from wandering to how I could show her the way a real man treated a woman. With everything that was said, I was amazed at my ability to keep a cool head with her.
Fuck. I shouldn’t have asked her to keep that dress on. The second I looked up and saw her curves on display, clearly defined beneath the material, I’d wanted to clear my desk in one swipe and bend her over the top.
A cold shower—that’s what I needed to clear my head. With her history, I had to make sure she was ready for my bed because, like I told her, it wouldn’t be sweet. I didn’t do sweet. Hot and passionate I could give her. But I didn’t make love. Slow and sweet meant a connection. Most women wouldn’t be able to handle the realities of my life. So I kept myself disconnected, and it worked.
Thoughts of Elena stayed with me while I went to my room, taking my own advice and changing into something more comfortable. Flipping on the shower in my bathroom, I turned the knob all the way to cold—anything to get my cock back under control. I stepped under the spray and with the icy water clearing my brain, I was able to go over everything Elena had told me at dinner. If my desire to keep her close hadn’t overridden everything else, I probably would have climbed in my car and gone to beat the ever-loving fuck out of the prick.
He actually told her the only way he’d stay married to her was if she learned how to be a good wife. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I resisted the temptation to take my frustration out on the tiles. How a man could treat their wife that way was beyond rational thought. And for her to agree . . .
He must have been slowly breaking down her protective barriers until he burrowed so deep under her skin, she had no idea he’d done it.
Goddamn asshole had known exactly what he was doing. He’d scored a beautiful woman. He could have made the decision to give her the world, but he broke her instead. The worst part was, I’d never in my life wanted a woman so badly. Her body, curved in all the right places, breasts the perfect size for my hands, made me dizzy with desire. All the blood ran from my brain to my dick.
I let the water pound down on me, the ice-cold droplets stinging my heated skin as I tried to think of anything but the sexy vixen down the hall. The one who had no clue how appealing she was, or she’d have ditched her husband a long time ago. Damn it! I needed to get my mind away from Dominic, and the idea of Elena and Dominic, or I was going to end up killing him. Uncomfortable as it might be, I was just going to have to make do with a lethal case of blue balls.
Work.
Loans.
Sports.
I ran through a list in my head—anything that would clear out the image of Elena in that dress. And her eyes. She was completely oblivious.
Work.
Loans.
Loans!
Shit.
I had to collect a payment in a few nights. Another asshole who’d borrowed more than he could pay back. What in the hell was I supposed to do with Elena? Under no circumstances would I involve her in any more of my business. I had family connections and I couldn’t wait to get the hell out. I couldn’t have her anywhere near it.
Resolving to keep Elena away from that side of my life, I got out of the shower and I threw on a pair of track pants and a T-shirt, heading downstairs to wait for her to pick a movie. Goose bumps still covered my skin but when I stepped into the den, I wanted to march right back upstairs and add ice to the shower.
So much for clearing my head.
With her back to me, she stared at the shelves of pictures and artwork that lined the walls, her ass encased in a pair of black yoga pants that showed every curved muscle. I clenched my teeth as I surmised that she probably worked out to keep from getting fat, like a good wife would, swallowing against the lump at the back of my throat.
Sensing my presence she turned around, still as shy as she’d been when she knocked on my office door only a few hours earlier, and I watched her tongue dart out to wet her lower lip before she drew it between her teeth and met my gaze. I managed to stifle my groan, thanking the Lord that her shirt was nowhere near as low-cut as her dress had been, but it was still fitted enough to allude to her shape underneath. It would seem Elena didn’t have to do a lot to get me worked up but as long as she stayed seated, keeping that ass from view, I could keep from thinking with my other brain.
“I wasn’t sure how to work anything in here.” She gestured toward the TV.
I laughed, the sound strained as I attempted to get myself under control. “How about I turn it on, while you pick a movie.”
She took a seat on the couch, her back straight, hands folded in her lap. Innocent didn’t fully describe the scene in front of me.
“No, you’re going to pick what we watch tonight.” Walking over to the table, I grabbed the remote and pulled up my Netflix account.
“But . . . but—”
“No excuses, Elena. We’re going to teach you how to make decisions for yourself.”
Her face blanched and for one brief moment I felt bad for pushing her. Then I remembered what it took to break Aunt Veronica out of it. I sat down next to her, my thigh running the length of hers, and showed her how to flick through the choices to find a movie. The slight tremble to her hands told me she was uncomfortable. She flipped through and although I’d expected her pick one of the romantic comedies she passed them all by, and it struck me that even though I would rather gouge my eye out with a spoon than watch one of those films, I would have endured it if she’d made the choice. Then she surprised me. Rush was an older movie; one I was willing to bet she hadn’t seen. She looked up at me through her long russet lashes.
“Is this okay?”
She thinks this is what I want to watch. “Elena, is this a movie you want to watch, or did you pick something you thought I’d enjoy?”
“I’ve wanted to see since it came out, but I can pick something else if you’d prefer?”
“Enough.” I covered her lips with my finger. Probably not the best move on my part, especially when I felt how soft they were. “I told you to pick, which means I’ll watch whatever you chose. Now let’s sit back and enjoy the movie.”
She slid back on the couch but her back remained ramrod straight, the tension in the room was thicker than the fog after a summer storm.
“Elena?”
“Yes?” She looked over at me.
“You can relax. I won’t bite.”
I realized I was giving her permission, which went against my plan, but she immediately responded, pulling her knees up to her chest, her shoulders losing most of their tension. She wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them tightly. It seemed protective, or maybe it was just comfortable. I preferred to think of it as being the latter. She hadn’t eaten much at dinner. She had to be hungry. And what went better with a film than snack food. “I’m going to grab something to eat. Would you like something?”
“Umm . . .” She shrugged her shoulders. “Sure.”
“Give me a minute.” She leaned forward to get the remote but I said, “You can leave it play. I’ve seen it before.”
She grabbed the remote anyway, clicking pause before retreating back into the couch, her chin coming to rest on her knees. “I’ll wait for you.”
“I’ll be right back.”
I headed for the kitchen, moving quickly through the house. Cursing myself for not thinking of this sooner, I figured that popcorn would be the best choice. It hurt to think that Elena probably hadn’t been to the theater in years, and I wondered just how much she’d missed out on. Things that I likely took for granted were a luxury to her. The thought made me uneasy.
Searching through the pantry, I found a box of microwavable popcorn and, tossing it in the microwave to cook, I went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer, soda, and water. If I gave her a selection, she’d have to make her own choice.
I carried everything out to the den on a tray, met by a wide-eyed Elena. “Wow,” she said dropping her feet to the ground. She started to get up and I pulled the tray back, away from her reach.
“Sit down and relax. Remember, you’re my guest.” I set the tray on the ottoman. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want to drink, so I brought you some choices.”
“Beer with popcorn?”
Her eyebrows scrunched together. It was adorable, and something I never thought I’d like about a woman. But with Elena I did. It was refreshing to see her question things without fear of repercussion. Whatever caused her to let her guard down needed a repeat; then again, maybe she hadn’t even realized she’d done it. “Absolutely. Beer goes with almost anything.”
She looked skeptical but reached for one of the bottles of amber liquid. Taking my seat, I hit play and music filled the room.
As the film progressed, Elena relaxed further, tucking her feet underneath her, shoveling popcorn and beer into her mouth and leaning forward at each climatic part of the film. She was enjoying herself, the smile on her face making her glee evident. It was a good thing I’d seen it before because I watched her more than I watched the screen, all the while doing everything in my power to keep myself from turning it into a teenage night in my parents’ house. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted to forget the movie and make out on the couch. As the evening wore on, I edged closer and closer to her, the soft scent of lavender and jasmine permeating my senses, making my head spin. Holy hell, I was screwed.
As the credits rolled, Elena stood and began cleaning up our mess.
“Leave it,” I said. “I’ll take care of it.”
She paused, her eyes bouncing around the room like she didn’t know what to do with herself. “Are you sure you don’t want my help?”
I had no problem with her helping if it was because she wanted to, but I wouldn’t let her do it because she felt like it was her duty. “Elena, I don’t want you to feel like you need to clean because that’s what you’ve always done.”
Her eyes glistened and she held my gaze for a second before turning to head upstairs. I thought about it for a moment before I placed my hand on her shoulder, the muscles tensing beneath my palm. “I know I said this earlier, but I hope you understand, I don’t want to be like your husband. He has no idea how to treat you and you deserve so much better.”
“I wish I could believe that.” I closed my eyes and inhaled sharply, the hurt in her voice stabbing me through the chest. Spinning her around, I pulled her close until her cheek rested above my heart.
“One of these days, I’ll make you believe it.”
I held her while she cried, and as much as it pained me to hear, the sound making my own eyes burn, I couldn’t help the small part of me that recognized that she was giving this to me. She was beginning to trust me and I needed to be careful. My earlier lust forgotten, my only thought was to comfort her. As her tears dried, she sagged against me and, not thinking, I pressed my lips to the top of her head. She immediately stiffened, as did I.
What the hell am I doing?
Stepping out of my embrace, she wiped at her face and stared at the ground. “I think I should go to bed,” she whispered, her voice rough and thick with emotion.
Before I had a chance to apologize, she spun on her heel and darted up the stairs. “Damn it, Ashton,” I muttered, knowing that move had cost me valuable ground. I took a moment to give myself a mental foot up the ass, then finished cleaning the mess and went to find myself a drink.
For the second night in the row, I sat in my office with a glass of whiskey in my hand. My phone vibrated on the desk. Who the fuck would be bothering me when I’m off? Picking up the phone, I saw a text.
Dad: Box is available next Thursday.
I knew exactly what that meant. Someone owed my dad money instead of me. Usually they borrowed from me, but a few of our old clients preferred dealing directly with Dad. There were guys who knew the deal; willing to hand over the kind of interest Dad liked to charge. Because of that, he was willing to accommodate them, only asking me to collect the payment when he couldn’t be there.
Me: I’d love to see the game. Thanks.
Dad: Why don’t you take Elena?
Dumbest fucking idea ever.
Me: Don’t think she’s really a fan of baseball.
Dad: Maybe you should change her mind?
What the hell was he up to? Deciding to give him a flippant answer, I took a sip of my drink and text back.
Me: We’ll see. Don’t forget to let me know about dinner.
Dad: Next Saturday?
I’d hoped for something earlier, but I knew he was probably working around Aunt Veronica’s schedule. Once she’d come out of her shell and started to go out, she made sure to enjoy all of the things she’d missed out on. Her social calendar was jam-packed now—a stark contrast to when she was married to Dave.
Me: That works.
My mind went back to Elena thoughts running wild through my head: from the look on her face when we arrived at the spa, to her shyness when I asked her to pick the movie. I wondered if she’d always been shy, or if that was something forced upon her by a man who asked her to be something she wasn’t, over and over again. Then I remembered how she looked when she knocked on my office door and my dick was hard in seconds. Shit, the woman was driving me to levels of sexual frustration I hadn’t experienced since my teenage years.
Swallowing the last of my drink, I marched my ass up the stairs. I tried to walk past, honest, but I came to a stop outside her room. There was no light coming from underneath the door. She was probably already asleep. When I found myself starting to wonder what she might have picked out to wear to bed, I knew it was time to get my ass down the hall.
My dick was still hard as steel, but I knew no cold shower in the world was going to help now. I set the temperature to hot and stripped again. If I kept this up, I was going to be the cleanest motherfucker in the state.
I dropped my clothes to the floor, put my glasses in their normal spot on the sink and climbed into the shower, letting the water cover my skin before taking my dick in my hand and giving it a firm stroke.
The pressure in my balls had been building all night. Grabbing the shower gel off the shelf, I poured some into my hand and gave in to temptation. Wrapping my fingers firmly around my cock, I started with long, slow strokes. Flashes of Elena consumed my thoughts, making my hand move faster, my pulls rough as I pictured her on her knees; her doe-eyes staring back at me, watching what her touch did to me.
Imagining her small, delicate hand in place of mine had me gripping the showerhead for support. I took in a deep breath and swore I could smell lavender. I’d never be able to smell that again without thinking of her. My neck bent, my forehead coming forward to rest against the cool tile, the water beating down against the back of my head, my hips surging forward pushing my dick through my fingers faster.
Feeling the telltale sensation prickling at the base of my spine, I couldn’t hold off any longer. After a few more quick thrusts up through my palm I came, grunting my pleasure throughout the bathroom. Feeling drained I collapsed, my body sliding down the shower wall. Boneless and breathless, I wasn’t sure I could move. I’d never come so hard and quickly by my own hand in my life.
For a few minutes I sat there. Not long enough for the water to run cold, but enough time to come to my senses and get my function back. One thing I knew for sure: if this kept up, Elena Tolley was going to be the death of me.
I climbed from the shower and toweled off. Too tired to care, I dropped into bed naked, dreaming of all the things I wanted to do to Elena.
CHAPTER 8
Elena
Almost two weeks had passed since Dominic decided to trade me to pay off his debts. In the beginning I thought it was my job as his wife to do whatever he asked of me, but Ashton made it his mission to convince me otherwise. Each day he showed me something new, something I’d thought was off limits to me because I wasn’t good enough, because I didn’t deserve it. Part of me still wondered if I really did deserve better than Dominic. I certainly wasn’t worthy of a man like Ashton. As much attention as he was showing me, I knew it was because he hated what Dominic had done. Ashton was a man who could get any woman he wanted. I couldn’t get swept away. He didn’t need or want me in the long-term.
That first full night had been awkward. After my two breakdowns, which was completely embarrassing, I never expected him to kiss me on the head. Yes, it might only have been a sign of comfort but then again, I never expected for that one simple kiss to be the catalyst for the rush of feelings that swept through me. It was all so overwhelming. I’d run from the room like an idiot. After that display, there would be no chance of him touching me like that again. Not that I’d thought about a repeat.
Oh, who am I kidding?
Of course I’d thought about a repeat. My mind was littered with thoughts of his lips on mine. Even as a young girl I’d had an active imagination. Could I help that each and every day brought more and more evidence of how incredibly sexy he was?
But with those thoughts came the guilt. Guilt at feeling things I had no right to. Dominic was my husband. It was wrong to be lusting after another man.
Not once during the last two weeks had Ashton mentioned what happened that night—nor did he try to do it again. While I was beginning to think it was wrong of Dominic to treat me the way he did, and wondering if I’d have the courage to demand better when I got home, I soaked up everything Ashton gave me, knowing that the attention I was getting from him was the best I was ever going to get.
And there were things I wouldn’t want to give up when I got home. Like always cleaning up after dinner, or missing new movies because Dominic wouldn’t want to take me. I was becoming more independent. “Growing a backbone” Ashton called it. Little things like picking my own dinner, or choosing the movie we watched got easier the more I did it. Ashton had even taken me out to dinner at one of his restaurants, introduced me to his employees.
My first thought had been to panic. Dominic had no problem announcing his displeasure at having to dine with me to the whole restaurant. If asked, I’d struggle to remember a time when we hadn’t rushed through our meal; Dominic always choosing to sit as far away from me as he could, paying more attention to the waitress than me, and not being shy about it either. It wasn’t uncommon of him to flirt with these women, even offer them his number, something that left them confused about who I was, even though I sat opposite him wearing a matching wedding band. I never ordered for myself, and if I didn’t like what he’d chosen for me then I knew to stay quiet. Once, not long after we were married, I’d made the mistake of speaking up and his response had been to coat my food in pepper and watch on as he forced me to eat it. I’d managed about four bites before excusing myself to the ladies’ room to vomit—another thing I’d been punished for when we got home.
Yet in his own restaurant, surrounded by people whom he trusted and respected, Ashton’s eyes had screamed pride. I wasn’t used to it. It was foreign to me. Everything in this world was new. By the time our entrees arrived, I was relaxed. This may have also had something to do with the two glasses of wine. The whole evening was thoroughly enjoyable. For the most part, Ashton spoke and I listened, and I learned much about him; all of which I liked.
In the early days, Ashton had stayed at home during the day, popping out to run errands or collect paperwork, but for the most part he stayed at home with me. Obviously, this couldn’t continue and he eventually returned to his normal schedule. Being left at home while he went to work didn’t freak me out anymore, although I still felt guilty about not contributing to the running of the household. But as many times as I tried to help, Ashton blew me off, claiming I’d done enough work over the last few years and I deserved some time off. Then he showed me the gym in the basement and encouraged me to blow off some steam.
The moment the words left his mouth, I was reminded that I hadn't done any exercise since I left Dominic. Even when I was at home I at least managed a small workout, in terms of a brisk walk to and from work. Add to that the fact I was eating more food—richer food—and I could almost feel the extra weight around my stomach and hips, a cold rush washing through me when I realized that Dominic would notice, and no doubt have something to say about it.
Ashton’s reply still danced around my head.
“You do not need to lose weight. That’s not why I brought you down here. Stop letting Dominic’s idiotic comments affect the way you see yourself. The rest of the world doesn’t see you that way.”
Tonight we were heading to his parents’ house for dinner. The whole thing made me want to throw up, partly because I didn’t understand why I was invited. I was a temporary inconvenience for Ashton. Meeting the parents didn’t exactly register on the agenda for short-term houseguests.
Standing in the kitchen, downing a drink of water after a run on the treadmill, I heard the garage door open and a minute later, Ashton stepped through the door. Seeing him made me almost swallow my tongue. What I wouldn’t give to be the kind of sexy that brought a man like him home to me each night; the kind of sexy that drove men wild enough to think of spending the night with me. I’d long ago accepted that men like Ashton Hawes weren’t meant for someone simple and homely like me, but that didn’t make the disappointment burn any less each time it reared its ugly head.
“Ready for tonight?”
His question caught me off guard and I pulled the band out of my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders as I tried to buy some time. “Are you sure you want me to meet your parents? You have to admit, ours isn’t the most conventional situation.”
He stepped forward into my space, crossing his arms over his chest, a dark look crossing his face. “Elena, we’ve been through this. My parents already know the situation. This isn’t about you meeting them—it’s about you getting the help you need.”
“I already know Dominic needs to treat me better, Ashton. You’ve helped me figure that out.”
“Except the only thing you’ve learned is that he shouldn’t treat you as a slave. Are you ready to leave him?”
I shook my head, the urge to drop my eyes to the ground almost too much, but I caught myself just in time. Ashton had taught me that if I wanted to keep people from taking advantage of me, I needed to show that I wasn’t afraid. “How can I? He’s the only one who wants me.”
“He’s not.”
His voice was firm; his eyes cutting to me, turning molten, raking over my body, and although I wore a simple outfit of a tank and a pair of running shorts, the way he was staring at me, I may as well have been in my underwear. I froze in place. Men didn’t look at me that way. He was just trying to be nice.
“Dominic may need work, but I can help him change.”
He clenched his jaw. “He’s an asshole and you need to understand he doesn’t want to change.”
“And how would you know?” The muscles in my body tensed. I hadn’t fought back in years and it felt good. Ashton’s eye went wide for a second. He was shocked. Then his jaw relaxed and he reached forward to cup my cheek.
“Good to see you have a backbone, even if I won’t agree. Now go get ready. We need to leave soon.”
And just like that, he walked away. Ashton was one confusing man. One minute he looked fit to jump me, the next he was angry, then he was walking away.
I contemplated his varying moods as I climbed the stairs, going in search of the dress I’d picked out to wear. It was the first time in forever that I’d had more options than I knew what to do with and so choosing had taken some time, and even then I wasn’t sure I’d made the right decision. My hands shook as I attempted to apply the make up like the girl at the spa showed me; partly because I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right, partly because I was going to dinner at crime boss’s house. I had no idea what to expect. I had a feeling that my stereotypical ideas, all from TV, were completely wrong. Which left me feeling lost as to what I’d be walking into.
Taking one last look in the mirror, I examined my outfit once again to make sure it worked for the night. The black sheath dress complimented my figure—according to the personal shopper Ashton sent. With its deep V at the neckline and lace capped sleeves, it was nicer than anything I’d ever owned. I took in my appearance in the full-length mirror, seeing my transformation from top to toe. I left my long hair loose, curling the ends, resisting the temptation to pull it away from my face in my normal ponytail. Even with the nerves about the impending dinner, I felt beautiful.
Satisfied that everything was in its place, I grabbed my black purse and left my room. I turned the corner and waiting at the bottom of the stairs was Ashton, his black suit fitting him perfectly, outlining every muscle in his body. I was so busy staring I almost stumbled down the stairs but, luckily, I caught myself before I went down in a heap.
Damn these heels.
My fingers gripping the handrail tightly, I straightened my spine and did my best to take each step carefully. My mouth was dry. When I reached the bottom stairs, Ashton took my hand and spun me around.
“You’re gorgeous.”
I felt the heat race to my face. “I’m not, but thank you for saying that.”
He pulled me in and lifted my chin to meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m not the type of man to give empty compliments.”
Very true. Since I’d arrived, Ashton hadn’t sugarcoated anything. He was honest, almost to a fault.
“Thank you.”
He sighed. “Please listen. I’m out of ideas on how to help you.”
I laid my hand on his arm. “I don’t need help. You’ve taught me so much since I’ve been here.”
“Not enough, or you’d appreciate how fucking sexy you are.”
Stunned I was frozen to my spot. That was the first time anyone had ever called me sexy. I didn’t know how to respond.
“Let’s go, before we’re late.”
He took my hand, leading me to the garage and the cars. He turned the key in the ignition and the Aston Martin came to life. I waited until the car started to move before I turned to him, my heart pounding in my chest, unsure whether to ask the question but needing to know the answer at the same time.
“You think I’m sexy?”
He slammed his foot on the brake, throwing us forward. Slowly, he turned to face me. “Fuck yes, I think you’re sexy.”
I twisted my fingers in my lap. “I’ve never seen myself that way.”
His hand moved over the center console to take mine, linking our fingers together, and he lifted his other hand to my face. “I know. I wish you would.”
Staring in his eyes, I was lost in the moment when his hand dropped from my face to my neck, his fingers finding their way into my hair. Lowering his head, he brought my lips to his. The first connection and I let myself fall into the kiss. No one had ever kissed me and left me feeling it all the way to my toes. The light taste of cinnamon flooded my senses when his tongue caressed my lips, coaxing me to open. Ignoring the voice in the back of my head screaming that I shouldn’t be doing this, I parted my lips and let him in. The glide of his tongue against mine was hesitant, but not in a way that made me think he didn’t want this. It made heart want to pound out of my chest. Everything around me fell away. It was just him and me. Ashton and Elena, and their kiss.
This kiss.
And as quickly as the kiss began he was gone, his hands falling away to grip the leather of the steering wheel. His knuckles flexed and I could see his skin turning white with the effort.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I apologize.” And without another word, he sped off toward his parents’ place.
Without the noise of the radio to cut through the silence, the air around us filled with a tension you could have cut with a knife. I was shaken to my core. I couldn’t speak or think. Everything I’d ever known had just been obliterated by one simple kiss. In all my years with Dominic, I’d never once felt this way. Our kisses had always been fairly chaste, and he hadn’t really kissed me at all in the last five years. Usually he told me to get on the bed and lay there. No touching, no feeling. No connection, no tenderness. Nothing personal. The kiss with Ashton was very, very personal.
So why did he pull away?
Why did he say he shouldn’t have done that?
Did I do something wrong?
Doubts and desire warred within me. From the moment I’d met Ashton, he’d made me question everything. From Dominic’s treatment of me, to the views I held of myself. It shouldn’t surprise me that tonight was the first time I’d felt desire in forever. Anyone would feel special after what he’d given me over the two weeks I’d been with him. But I didn’t want to just be special. I wanted to be special to him.
I still hadn’t come up with an answer when we arrived at his parents building.
Ashton had warned me earlier in the week that his parents preferred to live in the city instead of the surrounding suburbs. As he pulled the car up alongside the valet, the desire to jump out of the car and run down the street was overwhelming. I wasn’t done processing the kiss, or Ashton’s withdrawal. I couldn’t even begin to process what was about to happen. Not once in my life did I ever think I’d be faced with a crime lord. And to top it off, his son brought me here.
The valet opened the door for me. Taking deep, calming breaths, I exited the car, tamping down any residual nerves as best I could. Regardless of what had just happened, I didn’t think Ashton would let anyone hurt me; his family included.
