Affairs & Atonements (12 page)

“But the man just totally pissed me off!”

“Marshall,” Christy growled again.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “I’ll keep a check on myself from now on.”

Christy sat by him and took his large hand in hers. “I know you worry about me. But I’ll be fine, Marshall. I
am
fine. I’m not a teenager anymore. I can take care of myself. I can fight my own battles.”

Marshall put his arm around her. “Did you know that you had always been my first kid? In my heart you were always my little girl.” He took her hand and laid a small kiss on it. “Linda knew how I felt about you.” He sighed. “And she hated it that I considered you my first child and not Elise. She was angry and jealous and she took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

She cuddled his arm. “It all happened a long time ago, Marshall. Let’s forget it. You have a beautiful family now. How is baby Emily?”

“She’s not a baby anymore. She’s three years old and quite the chatterbox.”

Christy laughed. “I would love to see her.”

He grew quiet. “Perhaps, now that you aren’t hiding anymore, you can come see us in Bennett. I would love to show JR around. He belongs there too, you know.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “But let me sort things out with Ashton first. It’s only right that he should announce it to his parents first.”

“Of course.” He laid a kiss on her temple. “Ahhh… I’m so lucky. I have three beautiful girls in my life.”

“How is Elise doing? I miss her so much.” She smiled.

“I’ll send her over some time. She is entering those annoying pre-teen years and giving Beth a hell of a time. She sure could need a break.”

“Does Linda keep in touch with Elise?”

“No.” He shook his head sadly. “Those initial custody suits were only meant to harass both Beth and I. I guess Linda got tired of playing and now lets us raise Elise however we want. Beth and I have been luckier than most other parents fighting over custodies.”

“You were fortunate to have Beth as a partner. Another woman would not have tolerated half the mess she went through.”

“Yep. Beth is an incredible woman. She’s worked hard to raise Elise. She deliberately stalled on having another baby so she could devote her time to Elise. I never asked her for that sacrifice but I am grateful.”

“And Elise loves Beth.” Christy caressed his arm.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “I should say I have four beautiful girls.”

“Four.” Christy chuckled and nodded. “Why don’t we go inside and let me look at those cuts on your face?”

“I’ll be fine.” He tapped her gently on her hand. “Just point me out those ointments and I’ll go get cleaned up in the bathroom.” He glanced up at the incomplete deck of the treehouse. “Looks as if that would have to be finished tomorrow. There are things we need to sort out first before we touch it again. It isn’t fair on JR.”

“It is for the best,” she said, pulling him up.

He put an arm around her as they both ambled towards the house.

“I like JR. Who the hell was smart enough to come up with that name?”

“The man himself.” She giggled.

“Ahh right. I always said he was a smart kid. Definitely takes after me.”

“You?”

“Why not? Genes can travel that far.”

“I suppose.” She laughed. “I suppose.”

*****

Ashton slumped into a chair by the window, thinking for a while.

How could he have been so childish? He hadn’t wanted Marshall to build a treehouse for his son out of petty jealousy. Perhaps, he should just let him build it on his own.

His heart ached. This was something his son wanted and he had turned to his uncle first instead of him.

He leaned down and pulled off his shoes and socks. There was little he could do about that except work harder in winning back both his wife and son.

A knock rapped on his door and he frowned. If it was Marshall, he really didn’t have any more strength left to fight anymore. Tomorrow perhaps, but not today.

He reluctantly opened the door and then grew riveted to the floor. What was he supposed to do now that the very woman he had been wanting was standing at his door with a first aid kit?

She watched Marshall climb up the stairs to the guest bedroom.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” she called out from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes, Christy. Now, stop nagging me like you’re my mother. After I wash up, I should be fine,” he said as he reached the top landing. “You know who I feel sorry for? Your husband. The poor bastard has no one dressing his wounds. I want to say he deserves it… but I saw that boy grow up right before me…”

He had muttered the last words, but they had traveled down to her as she stood standing by the newel post of the staircase. She bit the corner of her lower lip, thinking about what he had said.

She loved Ashton once. It hurt her to imagine him alone in some corner crying because no one cared about him. And he
was
JR’s father. For her son’s sake, she cared about him.

She strode over to the kitchen and pulled out the first-aid kit from the cupboards. She slammed down the kit onto the table and then stood staring at it.

What was she doing? She was making this hard on herself. She didn’t want him thinking she cared about him. Not even a miniscule bit.

She let out a tired breath and palmed her face.  She didn’t want to have an attachment to Ashton. She had worked hard to move past that. It had taken years to get over him. Sleepless nights, endless weeping and heart-aches. She didn’t have the strength to do that all over again.

She picked up the kit and tossed it back into the cupboard.

*****

“Hey,” he whispered. Why was he whispering? Perhaps, the rapid thumping of his heart told him that he was both surprised and excited to see her at his door. She had been raging when he had left her with Marshall at the treehouse. Each time when he had thought he had won her over a little, he had always managed to stuff it up again.

She glared at him and then pushed past him and into his room.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Why don’t you shut-up for once?” she said flatly. “Every time you open that mouth of yours, you get yourself into trouble.”

She marched into the bathroom and ran the bath. She walked back into the room and opened up her kit, sorting out the bandages and ointments.

“Christy…,” he started.

“Take off your clothes.”

“Really?” he asked with amusement. “You won’t get a man to strip naked before you with that attitude.”

She swiveled on her feet and marched up to him without a word. She started unbuttoning his shirt, trying desperately to stop her fingers from trembling.

She started out as roughly as she could. But as she moved down the lapel of his shirt, she began to slow down. The skin of his pectoral muscles peeked out from the openings in his shirt and she held her breath. She bent her head, doing her best to focus on the job. She bit her lower lip, her hands almost freezing as her fingers grazed the last button near the belt of his jeans. She however managed to undo it with abated breath and then moved lithely behind him to remove his shirt.

Her eyes delightfully roamed over his back muscles. They were beautifully defined and she was tempted to kiss it. She shook her head out of her trance and pulled off his shirt. She folded them neatly and laid it on the arm of a chair. He was half-naked and she didn’t know how to turn without blushing, without revealing the wetness growing in her core.

She turned sharply; her head still lowered and began to undo his belt. Her hands shivered as they grasped his buckle.

He had tried to keep a steady face as she worked her way down his shirt. But now as her fingers lightly touched his stomach, he drew in a sharp breath. She was driving him crazy. His cock throbbed in his pants and he closed his eyes, trying to keep his mind from the fact that it was she who was stripping him off his clothes.

But now that she was undoing his belt, he
had
to stop her. He clasped her hands quickly. If her hands moved any lower, she would know how terribly hard he had gotten just by stripping his shirt off. He didn’t think he had the strength to stop himself from taking her if she continued.

“I think I can manage it from here,” he grunted.

She nodded and then walked back into the bathroom to turn the faucet off. She sat on the edge of the bath, testing the water.

He watched her through the open door of the bathroom, her hair strewn over the sides of her face. She was beautiful.

He undid his belt and pulled off his pants. He wrapped a towel around his hips.

“What now?” he asked, his voice gruff and heavy.

She glanced up at him and gulped. She never had seen another man as beautiful as her husband. Each time she had dated, she had ended up comparing them to him. And each time, they had fallen short. And now she knew why.

“Get into the tub,” she said as coldly as she could. “You need to clean yourself up a bit before I can put some ointment on your wounds.”

“You don’t need to do that, Christy,” he said slowly. “I will be fine.”

“Why do you men keep saying that?” She palmed her forehead in frustration. “I don’t understand why men have to keep up the pretences of bravery all the time. It’s okay to be hurt. It’s okay that someone is willing to take care of you.”

He tilted his head, walking slowly up to her. “Are you taking care of me?”

She shook her head wearily. “Wash yourself up. I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”

She closed the door behind her, breathing out with relief. She had survived the initial round. She only needed to find the confidence to dress his wounds and then it would be done.

She heard the slapping of the water and she imagined him naked in it. Her temples pulsated rapidly and she massaged them to ease it down.

“Christy?” he called out. “Are you there?”

“Yep,” she croaked. She rolled her eyes. She sure wasn’t doing a good job of hiding how hot she was feeling for him right now. “Yes,” she repeated it out louder and firmer.

“I can’t reach for my back. My arm hurts. Do you…?”

She opened the door immediately. He was in pain and the mere thought of that hurt her.

“Where?” she asked hastily. “Where do you hurt?”

“I…” he started with puzzlement. “My arm’s a little stiff. I guess I swung it a little too hard at Marshall.”

“Show me,” she said, looking concernedly at his arm.

“Here and my ribs,” he said, pointing at it.

She could tell from the discoloration that it was bruised. “Does it hurt a lot? Do you need a doctor?”

“No, no. I don’t think it’s broken or anything. Nothing a heat patch won’t fix.”

She scowled and picked up the bar of soap. “Serves you right,” she grumbled as she ran the soap over his back. “There was no need for you to get into a fight with Marshall. The issue aside, the entire fiasco was totally inappropriate. You both are grown men, behaving like children. And to make a scene like that before our son and our guests… what were you thinking?”

He lowered his head and smiled. She had said
our
son and
our
guests. Those words entwined with the touch of her hands on his flesh, filling him with sexual heat. The little wench, in her concern over him, had forgotten completely that he was stark naked in the bath.

His cock stirred. It was hard and ready to take her and he prayed silently she wouldn’t see how much he wanted her right now. He put his hands over it, covering it.

But as she reached to soap the other side of his back, she slipped slightly and he immediately grasped onto her waist to steady her.

Her gaze fell down to his stiff cock and she felt her clitoris throb with pleasure. She bit her lower lip.

“Uh… I’m sure you can take it from here,” she stammered.

“If you don’t mind, washing my hair?” he asked quickly, not willing to see her go. “My arms hurt when I lift them up.”

She stalled near the tub and then slowly sat back down on its edge again. She soaped his hair, running her fingers gently through them, taking her time. She loved the feel of it glide through them. And then she tenderly massaged his scalp with her finger-tips.

Ashton closed his eyes, his head bent down, his lips pursed tightly as he tried hard to stifle the moan of goddamned pleasure in his throat. He was going to cum right there in the bath-tub, which was not at all what he wanted. He wanted to be inside her when he did. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. Not even with Naomi. This was different. This came from his heart and affected every part of his being.

She unhooked the hand shower and began washing his hair slowly. Her fingers continued to work at his scalp and her little movements caused pleasurable tremors in his body.

She cleaned his back, rubbing her palm gently over his skin. Ashton thought he would finally lose all control if she didn’t stop anytime soon. And thankfully she did.

She replaced the hand shower and then turned around.

“I’ll be outside,” she muttered.

He rose out of the bath tub before she could leave, covering his hardened member with his towel.

“Christy,” he said. “You might want to help dry me up.”

She blushed and then nodded. “Wrap yourself up and I’ll get another towel to dry you with.”

She clutched her fingers and pulled one crisp white towel from the closet and turned back towards the bathroom.

He was tucking the ends of his towel into his side. He glanced up at her, his hair wet and dripping.

Her eyes ran down to the little tent in his towel and she flustered.

“It’s the water… um… the cold,” he muttered. “It’ll be fine as soon as I warm up again.”

“Could you sit on the edge of the tub?” she asked. “You’re a little tall for me.”

He did as she asked, sitting up straight with his head held high. She neared nervously to his side and began drying his back and then moved to the other side to do the same.

Sometime in the midst of drying him, he had widened his legs and she had unconsciously moved between them and into him to dry his hair.

His eyes met directly with her breasts and he longed to touch them, to nuzzle his face in its valley. His hands clung onto her legs and she froze.

She closed her eyes as she felt them climb up her thighs. She reluctantly clutched his hands before they could travel further up, beneath her skirt. No matter how much she loved it, she couldn’t be stupid. Not again. Not this time.