“You sure?” I asked, nipping at her earlobe.
She shivered in my arms and nodded.
This could never be wrong. It felt too right.
“I want these off,” she whispered as she unfastened my jeans and started tugging them down. I wanted them off too, but not in my living room. I wanted her back in my bedroom. On my sheets. So when she was gone I could smell her.
“To my room,” I replied as I kissed a trail down her neck. The small shiver that ran through her only excited me more. I reached down and grabbed the hem of her short dress and pulled it up so I could cup her ass. Both soft cheeks were bare. I froze and stared down at her while I slipped my hand down and found the thin strap.
“Holy shit, baby. You’re wearing a g-string?” I needed her dress off now. The sweet little pastor’s daughter was naughty as hell, and I loved every inch of her.
Ashton only nodded and pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide her amused smile. She loved knowing that she could drive me crazy.
“Off. I want this dress off,” I demanded. I didn’t wait for her to help me. I found the zipper and slid it down to the curve of her hips then pushed it off her shoulders. The forgotten fabric fell to the floor as I stood taking in the sight of Ashton in a black lace bra and matching barely-there panties. I didn’t see the point in wearing panties that covered so very little but I wasn’t complaining. They were doing very good things for my imagination.
“I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t make it to my room,” I apologized as I picked her up and pressed her against the wall in the hallway.
Chapter 10
Ashton
Ashton,
You haven’t written me back so either this means my email never got through, which is believable with the unreliable internet access here, or something is wrong. I tried calling several times but I can’t seem to get any signal out here no matter where I am.
I’ve got good news and bad news. Bad news is Catherine had an allergic reaction to some unknown plant and she broke out in hives and Dad had to rush her to the nearest town. He just got back an hour ago and she’s going to be fine, but Mom is ready to go home.
That leads me to the good news. I’m coming home. We are packing as I write this and as soon as I’m in cell phone reception range I’m going to call you. Keep your phone on you. I need to hear your voice. Also, call Beau for me and tell him I’m coming home. He and I can hit the weight room a week early to get ready for football practice. Also tell him to lay off the beer. I need my best receiver in shape.
Love ya,
Sawyer
I stared at the screen on my laptop for a long time. I wasn’t sure what to do. Who to tell. Where to go. Slowly I closed the computer and shoved it off my lap onto the bed. I’d woke up knowing I was going to have to deal with my parents’ questions this morning about my leaving with Beau from the church last night. It was something I dreaded, but this was much worse. The screen on my phone lit up before Eye of the Tiger began to play for the first time in three weeks. Sawyer had put Eye of the Tiger on my phone to be his special ring. Numbly I reached for it and pressed the accept button before lifting it to my ear.
“Hello.”
“AHHH, man, baby, is it good to hear your voice! Did you get my email? I waited until I thought you might be awake to call. We’re about two hours away. I’m having Dad drop me off at your house. I can’t wait to see you.”
Guilt, frustration, anger, panic all seemed to whirl around inside me at once. My grip on the phone tightened as I took several deep breaths.
“Um, hey, yeah, I just got your email. I can’t believe y’all are coming home early.” The lack of enthusiasm in my voice was unmistakable. A second of silence ticked by and I knew Sawyer’s brain was working overtime.
“Did you just wake up? You don’t sound real happy about my coming home. I expected squeals of delight or something.”
Perfect, make him suspicious before he even gets here. I needed to fix this. I couldn’t come between Beau and Sawyer. They’d been as close as brothers all their life. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I caused a rift between them. The fact I was worried about Beau and Sawyer’s relationship instead of mine and Sawyer’s surprised me.
“Sorry, I’m thrilled. I just woke up. Last night was Grana’s viewing and her funeral is this afternoon. It’s been a rough few days.”
“What? Ash, baby. Your Grana passed away? Oh baby, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?” I’d forgotten he didn’t know. The email I never wrote him flashed in my memory. Instead of telling him about Grana I’d run to Beau. Would any of this have happened if I’d just emailed Sawyer and gone with Mom to deal with funeral arrangements that day? Did I wish things had happened differently?
“It wasn’t something I wanted to write in an email,” I explained, hoping he understood or at the very least accepted my excuse.
“I’m coming home. I’ll rush to the house and change before I come over so I won’t have to leave before the funeral. I can drive you there. It’s going to be okay. I’ll be there soon. I promise.”
How would he feel if I told him things were okay? Beau had helped me say my goodbye already. Beau had held me while I cried. My tears were dried up now. I knew my Grana was happy with those fancy streets of gold and a fabulous mansion. She always said God would have her a big ol’ rose garden she could tend to up there.
“Ash, you okay?”