Face the Music Page 22
His face is pressed to the top of my head, his breath warm on my scalp. He presses soft kisses to my hair, and the last bit of control I had over my emotions crumbles under the weight of his acceptance.
“Oh, Ashleigh,” he says as my shoulders shake with silent sobs. “I’m so sorry. I fucked this up.” Another kiss to my head. “This is all so new to me. I know I can do this right if you’ll give me another chance.”
I want that. I’m terrified, but I want to give him another shot. I’m so fucking afraid of getting hurt and Ben has the power to demolish my heart.
I sniff and focus on my breathing, pulling myself together as best I can, but even when I’m calm, he doesn’t let me go. “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you about Maggie’s clothes.”
His muscles jump subtly at the mention of his wife’s name. “It means more to me that you had Elliot’s heart in mind. But can we make a pact, from here on out, no more lies between us, okay?”
Us? There’s that word again.
“Ash, babe, talk to me. Why are you crying again?” This time he releases me enough to see my face, but he keeps his arms around my back.
“You said…” I stutter through my tears. “U-us.” I shake my head and force out the words. “There can’t be an us, Ben.”
He looks into my eyes before I blink and lower my gaze. “Give me a chance to change your mind?”
I’m about to beg him not to try because it’ll work and I’ll change my mind, agree to fork out my heart and offer it to him to squash and stomp and rip apart once he discovers he’ll never be able to love anyone as much as he loves Maggie, and I’ll be left behind, heartless and broken and full of regret.
I don’t get a single word out.
His lips are on mine.
His hands in my hair.
Ben Langley kisses me as if my moans carry the answer to the universe’s unanswered questions.
My breath is pulled from my lungs with every powerful swipe of his tongue. Every lick into my mouth dissolves one more protest until I’m left without a single defense and at the mercy of his attention. He towers over me, bends his big body into mine as if he’s trying to absorb me. My knees wobble and I hold on to him to stay upright—not that I’d fall far if my legs gave out. His muscular form has me pinned.
He pulls his lips from mine, taking in a gulp of air as he kisses down my jaw to my throat. “Don’t leave.” One hand in my hair, the other slips down my throat to my breast where he palms me over my black lace top. “Stay.”
He licks up my neck, his thumb making soft, barely there passes over my nipple, and I’m struck immobile. Ben’s touch is paralyzing. I couldn’t walk away if I wanted to. Which I don’t.
“Can I take you inside?”
“Yes.”
He does a quick half squat and hoists me up. My legs wrap around his waist and his hands hold the backs of my thighs, keeping me securely to him. I dive down, kissing his mouth, and he groans between my lips.
“You keep kissing me, we’ll never make it inside.”
I stop and allow him to take me up the stairs, through the front door, and down the hallway. Once inside, he closes the door, plunging the room into darkness. I’m set down on the soft cushion of his bed. The sheets are down and rumpled, making me think he was sleeping or at least in bed when I texted him back. He runs big, heavy palms down my bare legs to my boots and unzips them, slipping off one then the other. My socks come next until I’m in nothing but my black lace mini dress. My pulse is racing, my skin is hot, and my muscles shake with the flood of desire mixed with adrenaline.
The bed dips and Ben’s body covers mine.
Chapter Twenty
Ben
I wasn’t sure, if push came to shove, that I’d be able to bring Ashleigh to my bed. But holding her in my arms while she cried and being forced to accept that she wanted to walk away, I knew if I wanted a chance with her, I’d have to take drastic measures.
I don’t want her to see me as a married man. I don’t want her to see me as a pastor. I want her to know I’m a warm-blooded male who has his eyes set on her and I’m capable of being the kind of man she needs.
Carrying her across the threshold, I have a lingering memory of Maggie.
Laying Ashleigh on the bed, I imagine, for a moment, my wedding night.
Then I banish those thoughts and in the black of night, with Ashleigh’s tight, warm body beneath me, I stay in the moment so that there’s no one but us. No ghosts from the past, no guilt or shame, not a single regret.
I cup her jaw, feel for her lips with my thumb, only to have her suck the tip into her hot, wet mouth. A low hum erupts from my throat. “Mmm, that feels good.”
I indulge, pumping my thumb in and out of her plump lips while she swirls her tongue around the tip, uses the flat part against the pad, and sucks it as far back in her throat as it’ll go. I’m not the only one getting off on her mock-blow-job display. She purrs with every stroke and from the feel of me in her mouth.
I sit back on my heels, my thighs straddling hers, and slip the top of her dress down to expose her bare breast. I can’t see much in the dark, but I feel for a bra that isn’t there. Pulling my thumb free, I cup her tits with both hands, rubbing my wet finger over her pebbled nipple. Her hands dig into my thighs. Her nails scrape hard enough to be felt through my sweatpants. I dip forward, feeling the heavy weight of my hard-on fall against my baggy pants. My hips flex on their own accord, desperate for the friction, and I lick at her bare breast.
“Yes,” she says, followed by a moan.
“Shhh.” The last thing I need is Elliot knocking on the door.
“Harder, please. I want to feel it.”
I give her what she wants, and her back arches off the bed with a feral groan.
“Yes!”
I smile, loving the sound of her voice heavy with need, and blow against her now-wet flesh. “If you can’t keep it down, I’ll be forced to stop.”
I have no intention of stopping, but the frustrated growl from Ashleigh makes me chuckle. She quiets down and I continue to suck, lick, and nip at her sensitive breasts. She tastes as good as she smells—honey and wild flowers—and I’m lost to her. Lost to every breathy moan, her hands in my hair holding me to her, her rolling hips that brush against my dick and make me want things I can’t have.
“Ben, please.” Her hands reach for my waistband. “I need to touch you.”
I can’t stop kissing her tits, and say against them, “Not tonight, babe.”
Her hands switch directions and pull at my shirt. I can give her that. I toss my shirt to the floor before regaining my position at her breasts. She takes her time feeling my shoulders, her hands as smooth as silk as she rubs along my shoulders, down my biceps, over to my chest, where she scrapes her nails along my nipples. My hips jerk forward and my dick wedges between her thighs.
“I’m sorry.” I pull back to hold myself above her.
“I’m not,” she says with a sexy rasp of her nails on my back.
I close my eyes and try to get control over my body. There is nothing I want more than to sink into her sweet body and give her the relief she’s quaking in my arms for, but I can’t.
The more I suck at her breasts, the more restless she becomes. “Ben, please.” She sounds near tears.
Her legs fight to get out from between mine, and although I know I should pull back, cool things off, be reasonable, I can’t stand to feel her suffering.
“Shh, baby.” I drop to her side. I search out her downy-soft thigh, and her legs fall open at my touch. “Wider.” She complies. “Good girl.”
Her tight dress rolls up to her hips, exposing her to the darkness of the room. I resist the urge to flip on a light, because I know with the light will come the realization of where we are and what we’re doing. For now, I need things to remain just Ashleigh and me.
Her thin silk panties are nothing more than a tiny strip of fabric that disappears between her ass cheeks. I rub the wet fabric and
her hips jerk off the bed.
“Sensitive?” I say and bring my mouth back down around her nipple.
“Finish me, please. Or I’ll do it myself.”
I almost come at the thought of Ash and what she would look like just like this, dress bunched around her waist, bare tits, legs opened, and her pretty fingers sinking inside as she brings herself to orgasm. Pushing aside the barely there fabric, I groan at the feel of her slick heat as my fingers move up and down and back again.
“Ben, stop messing around.”
“Quiet.” I suck a generous amount of her breast until she squirms. I sink two fingers inside her and rub her with my thumb, the same thumb she sucked. “This is all I have to give you, Ash.”
The only sound in the room is her labored breathing.
“If this is all I have to offer, will this be enough for you?” I twist and push my fingers deeper, and she gasps. “Tell me it’ll be enough.”
“Yes, please… don’t stop.”
I lick her nipple, nip with my teeth, and increase my pace. Her moans become louder, so I move to her mouth and cover it with mine. Her kiss is as desperate as I’ve ever been kissed, and my hard-on kicks behind my sweatpants. Her orgasm hits with my tongue in her mouth and I swallow her gasp. Her body clamps down on my fingers, pulsing around my knuckles as wave after wave washes over her. I bury my face in her neck and groan as my dick decides he’s not willing to be left out. I come hard in my sweats, soaking the fabric and feeling it drip down my hip.
Spinning. Sweaty. Spent. I pull her to me and hold her until she stops shaking and her breathing evens out.
“Ash,” I whisper in the dark.
“Yeah?”
“Will you stay for a little while longer?”
I couldn’t handle her stumbling around the room in the dark, searching for her shoes so that she can make a quick getaway. I don’t want her to force me to hold her here against her will, but I’m afraid I will if she tries to leave.
“I don’t have a choice. I can’t feel my legs.”
I chuckle and run my fingers along her spine, soaking in her warmth and her soft skin. “I’ll have to remember that the next time I’m not ready for you to leave.”
A few minutes of silence stretch between us, her cheek on my chest, arm thrown over my abdomen, and my hand tracing unseen patterns against her skin.
“I’m going to shut my eyes for a little bit. Don’t let me stay until morning, okay?” she says.
“Why not?”
“Elliot will have questions I don’t think either of us are prepared to answer.”
I grunt. Good point.
“I’m glad you invited me over,” she says sleepily.
I smile into the dark.
Once she’s asleep, I slip out from under her and go the bathroom to clean up. I don’t turn on the light or look in the mirror as I change my pants. Without allowing myself to think too hard, I crawl back into bed, pull her into my arms, and fall asleep.
* * *
I’m in the middle of a dreamless sleep when I feel my arm drop against my side. I blink open my eyes to the back of a blond head as Ashleigh tries to ever-so-slowly sneak out of my bed.
“Nice try.” I wrap my arm back around her, pull her beneath me, and wedge myself between her legs. “Sneaking out?”
Her eyes are a little puffy from sleep, but her hair’s a gorgeous mess all around her face and she’s smiling at me as her arms snake up and around my neck. “You weren’t supposed to wake up.”
I don’t have to look to know her dress is still around her waist because her bare breasts are warm against my chest. Suddenly I feel like a dick for not offering her something more comfortable to sleep in. She fell asleep so quickly, I have to think she must not have minded.
“I’m a light sleeper.” I lower my mouth to hers, kissing her lightly. “Good morning, Ash.”
“Good morning,” she says, her expression relaxed as her blue eyes hold mine. “What time is it?”
I turn toward the window and try to guess based on the limited light outside. “Somewhere around six maybe?”
“Bummer.” She pouts. “I better go.”
I know she’s right. I need to wake Elliot and get her off to school, get myself showered and to work.
“Ben.” She wiggles under me, trying to get free. I groan at the feeling of her soft body moving against mine. She stops trying to get away. “You realize in order for me to leave, you’re going to have to get up, right?”
I bury my face in her neck, breathe in her delicious scent, and close my eyes. “I know the second you walk away I’m going to miss you.” The honesty falls from my lips so effortlessly, I don’t have a chance to hold back.
Her arms wrap around me, and she says nothing as we steal a few more minutes of soaking each other in. I drop all my weight on her, and when she sighs, I smile against her neck. What the hell is she doing to me? As the sun rises through the window, my better sense takes over and I lift myself off of her.
“All right, I’ll release you as long as—oh fuck, Ash.” I’m sitting back on my heels with Ashleigh’s alluring body laid out before me. For the first time, I see her plump, round breasts, but I don’t get a second to appreciate their beauty because they’re covered in dark purple spots. Hickeys. I run both hands through my hair and study her marred skin. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I did that.”
Sickness and filth churn in my gut. To think I was so crazed with passion last night that I bruised her supple skin with my mouth? She’ll never forgive me.
She pushes herself up on her elbows and looks at her chest. “Whoa! Please do not apologize for these.” She cups her tits, lifting, studying, and… grinning? “Nice work, Ben.”
“I’m sorry, I had no idea—”
Her gaze snaps to mine. “Sorry? Are you nuts? This is sexy. I love the way it looks.”
“You do?”
She chuckles. “Don’t sound so disgusted.”
“I’m not, I mean I am but not in you, in my behavior.” I motion to her bare body. “You look like you’ve been mauled by an animal.”
She sits up and gets on her knees to crawl to me. “Wasn’t I?”
She kisses my belly button, my abs, my sternum, and soon we’re knee to knee on the bed, her lips on my neck. I’m breathing heavy, my dick swelling.
“Never ever apologize for marking me with your mouth.” She licks up my throat to my ear, and I grip her hips, holding her to me. “I like it.”
Screw school. Screw work. I’m spending the day in bed with this sexy, wonderful woman.
She hops off the bed so fast, I nearly fall forward on my face. “All right, I’m going to scurry out of here so you can get to your day.”
She searches the dimly lit room for her shoes and socks.
“Here, let me get the light.” I flick on the lamp on the bedside table and decide to lie back and watch her as she fixes her dress and gets on her shoes.
But she’s not moving. She’s standing still, staring straight ahead as if she’s seen a ghost.
I follow her line of sight and cringe.
She looks as if she’s seen a ghost because she’s looking right at one. An eight-by-ten photo of Maggie just weeks before she died hangs on the wall. And that’s not all. As Ashleigh turns to study the rest of my bedroom, she stops to linger on every single photo of my wife—dead wife. And there are many. Fuck.
I scoot to the edge of the bed. “Ashleigh.”
Her name comes out as a plea. So much to apologize for, so many words of comfort she deserves, yet I can’t find any of them. I do the next best thing and cross to her, pull her into my chest, and hold onto her as tightly as I can.
Please, Maggie, let me have this. Let me keep her. Don’t send her running.
“It’s getting late,” Ashleigh says in a sad whisper.
I kiss her head and mumble in agreement.
“Let me go, Ben.”
“No.”
I expect her to pull away, but in
stead she wraps her arms around me tighter and I feel her relax a little.
“I’m sorry—”
“Stop apologizing,” she says.
“Come over tonight.”
“I can’t. I have to work.”
“Come after work. I’ll wait up for you.”
“It’ll be late. I’ll be exhausted.”
My pulse races as I feel her slipping further and further away. “Will I see you at church tomorrow?”
She seems to mull that over then nods. “I’ll be there.”
I exhale a little of the tension I’d been holding on to, but I still feel like letting her go is a mistake. “Stay out of your head, okay? If there’s something you want to talk about, please talk to me. I can handle it, I promise.” I lean back and make sure to look her in the eyes when I say, “Give me your word you won’t run off again.”
Her smile is shaky. “I won’t.”
I let her go, step back, and she doesn’t take the time to slip her shoes and socks on. She races out of the room as though it’s on fire. Not that I blame her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ashleigh
I don’t know why I’m surprised when I walk up to church on Sunday morning and find Kathy waiting for me with a scowl etched into her lightly made up face. After spending the night with Ben on Friday and getting spooked by the millions of photos of Maggie in his bedroom on Saturday, I assumed putting some space between us for twenty-four hours would be good for me.
I was wrong.
I went straight home and couldn’t sleep from thinking about his hands on my body, his mouth on my breasts, and his tongue in my mouth. Restless, I cleaned our entire apartment and did laundry until my shift started on Saturday afternoon. Ben texted me twice: once to ask how my day was and once to tell me good night. The good night came in three hours before shift ended, so I knew I couldn’t take back my refusal to go over to his house even though I wanted to. Badly.
I came home from work at three o’clock this morning, showered, took a two-hour nap, then got up, properly caffeinated, and here I am, antsy as fuck to set my eyes on Ben—only to have a stare-down with fucking Kathy.