sliding
across the floor, wild.
“Yes! Just fuck me, Ash; fuck me so hard. Take me…”
“I will,” he said. “You’re mine to use right now, aren’t you?” He had no idea where the words were coming from, but he couldn’t
stop them. “Right this minute, you belong to me.”
She thrashed her head from side to side. “Yes. Yours. Use me, Ash.”
“I will.” He bit her nipple, his teeth clamping onto her as she bucked against him. “I am.”
He couldn’t stop himself, and she seemed to respond to his loss of control. For the first time he could ever remember, he
made love to a woman and didn’t worry about restraining his own pleasure. Because this was what turned Joy on, feeling him
fuck her. Use her.
She was beautiful beneath him.
“Joy, I want you to come. Now.” He bit, drove in deep, moved her body a few more inches across the floor. She screamed, and
he felt her clench around his cock, pulling another climax out of him. “Mine, Joy.” He heard the words coming from his own
mouth as he pumped his seed into her, couldn’t stop the words. “Right now, Joy. Mine. You’re fucking mine.”
Chapter Nine
J oy was shaking.
Wearing one of Ash’s beat-up Navy sweatshirts and wrapped in a blanket, she sat on a stool at his sleek kitchen counter, her
limbs trembling. But, despite the rain hammering against the building, she wasn’t cold.
She didn’t know what the hell she was.
Mine, Joy. You’re fucking mine.
Surely those were words said during a moment of passion, yet she couldn’t get them out of her head; couldn’t get any of it
out of her head. Suddenly she realized that she’d made love to Ash three times in the last four days and barely knew anything
about him.
And he hadn’t asked much about her, either.
Maybe Erica was right. Maybe he did just want her for a booty call. Never mind if it was a damn good booty call, the best
she’d ever had, in fact.
After they’d caught their breath, he’d climbed off her, silent. He helped her upstairs, gave her his sweatshirt to wear. Waited
while she cleaned up. But since having sex they’d barely spoken. Now silence filled the air, heavy with awkwardness. She couldn’t
even fathom talking about the sculpture now.
“Maybe I should go,” she said.
“No.” He cleared his throat. “You want some tea? Coffee?”
“I’ll have some more of that Bushmills if you don’t mind.”
Grinning, he pulled two tumblers out of the cupboard this time. “Not at all. I think I’ll join you.”
He poured two neat glasses, slid one across the table, and lifted his, nodding once at her. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” She gulped down half the contents, and this time when it hit her stomach, she felt it rumbling around. She realized
she was starving; she’d had a small salad for lunch and nothing since. Now, lunch seemed so very long ago.
But she was too embarrassed to say anything about being hungry; her grandmother had made sure she never felt comfortable eating
in front of a man. Erica and the gang were the only ones who really knew about Joy’s overzealous love of food. Her grandmother
had hammered the “eat like a lady” mantra into her for years.
At the moment, after what she’d just done with Ash, she felt very unladylike. And, she realized, she liked it.
“So,” Ash said, staring at her from the other side of the kitchen table.
“So.” She took another large swallow of whiskey and chased it with a deep breath. Fuck it. No time like the present. “So,
Ash. I have something I want to tell you.”
Leaning forward slightly, his green eyes nailed her with his sharp gaze. “That’s one of the things I like most about you,
Joy. Your honesty. You’re so open….” He shook his head. “You don’t know how rare that is.”
She laughed nervously and gulped down the rest of her whiskey. “Yeah. About that.”
Reaching across the table, he took her hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.
across the floor, wild.
“Yes! Just fuck me, Ash; fuck me so hard. Take me…”
“I will,” he said. “You’re mine to use right now, aren’t you?” He had no idea where the words were coming from, but he couldn’t
stop them. “Right this minute, you belong to me.”
She thrashed her head from side to side. “Yes. Yours. Use me, Ash.”
“I will.” He bit her nipple, his teeth clamping onto her as she bucked against him. “I am.”
He couldn’t stop himself, and she seemed to respond to his loss of control. For the first time he could ever remember, he
made love to a woman and didn’t worry about restraining his own pleasure. Because this was what turned Joy on, feeling him
fuck her. Use her.
She was beautiful beneath him.
“Joy, I want you to come. Now.” He bit, drove in deep, moved her body a few more inches across the floor. She screamed, and
he felt her clench around his cock, pulling another climax out of him. “Mine, Joy.” He heard the words coming from his own
mouth as he pumped his seed into her, couldn’t stop the words. “Right now, Joy. Mine. You’re fucking mine.”
Chapter Nine
J oy was shaking.
Wearing one of Ash’s beat-up Navy sweatshirts and wrapped in a blanket, she sat on a stool at his sleek kitchen counter, her
limbs trembling. But, despite the rain hammering against the building, she wasn’t cold.
She didn’t know what the hell she was.
Mine, Joy. You’re fucking mine.
Surely those were words said during a moment of passion, yet she couldn’t get them out of her head; couldn’t get any of it
out of her head. Suddenly she realized that she’d made love to Ash three times in the last four days and barely knew anything
about him.
And he hadn’t asked much about her, either.
Maybe Erica was right. Maybe he did just want her for a booty call. Never mind if it was a damn good booty call, the best
she’d ever had, in fact.
After they’d caught their breath, he’d climbed off her, silent. He helped her upstairs, gave her his sweatshirt to wear. Waited
while she cleaned up. But since having sex they’d barely spoken. Now silence filled the air, heavy with awkwardness. She couldn’t
even fathom talking about the sculpture now.
“Maybe I should go,” she said.
“No.” He cleared his throat. “You want some tea? Coffee?”
“I’ll have some more of that Bushmills if you don’t mind.”
Grinning, he pulled two tumblers out of the cupboard this time. “Not at all. I think I’ll join you.”
He poured two neat glasses, slid one across the table, and lifted his, nodding once at her. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” She gulped down half the contents, and this time when it hit her stomach, she felt it rumbling around. She realized
she was starving; she’d had a small salad for lunch and nothing since. Now, lunch seemed so very long ago.
But she was too embarrassed to say anything about being hungry; her grandmother had made sure she never felt comfortable eating
in front of a man. Erica and the gang were the only ones who really knew about Joy’s overzealous love of food. Her grandmother
had hammered the “eat like a lady” mantra into her for years.
At the moment, after what she’d just done with Ash, she felt very unladylike. And, she realized, she liked it.
“So,” Ash said, staring at her from the other side of the kitchen table.
“So.” She took another large swallow of whiskey and chased it with a deep breath. Fuck it. No time like the present. “So,
Ash. I have something I want to tell you.”
Leaning forward slightly, his green eyes nailed her with his sharp gaze. “That’s one of the things I like most about you,
Joy. Your honesty. You’re so open….” He shook his head. “You don’t know how rare that is.”
She laughed nervously and gulped down the rest of her whiskey. “Yeah. About that.”
Reaching across the table, he took her hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.
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