Fixing Ashley (6 page)

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Authors: Melissa Gardener

BOOK: Fixing Ashley
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My face falls and eyes narrow at the stranger standing on the other side of the threshold. Here I am hoping to see a short, curvy brunette, yet there stands a tall, bulky man with greasy hair, wearing a bad suit.

“Can I help you?” Eyes narrowed, I stand my full height; protective of this house and the woman who entrusted me with it.

The man smiles sadly and extends his hand. “Richard Evans. I ahh...you the guy Ashley hired to do the renovations?”

I shake his hand and nod, feeling weary. “Yeah, I’m sorry, who are you?”

He lets go of my hand and looks past me. Without answering my questions, he says, “It looks great. Good job.”

My mouth goes dry and I stand there like an idiot looking at his retreating figure walking down the porch and to his fancy car.

Just before sliding into the driver’s seat, he taps the roof of the car and turns to me. “I hope you can make her happy.” He then scans the driveway, his eyes not staying on one thing for long. “This was her dream.” With those final words, he gets into his car and I watch the tail lights retreat down the driveway.

That was a pointless visit and I wonder exactly who this guy is. Evans isn’t that common of a last name around here, which sort of makes me wonder if he’s Ashley’s dreaded ex-husband. Either way, his little visit leaves me feeling awkward and fills my mind with a myriad of questions.

Is this Ashley’s house? If so, why didn’t she ever tell me? It would make so much sense. My mind reels at the little hints she’s given me over the weeks and I think there is a larger picture here than the small tidbits I’ve been given.

I’m a smart man, but I’m also a tired one. This has been an emotionally draining few weeks, and even if I want to believe any of those thoughts, I want to hear her tell me with her own words what’s going on here.

Unfortunately, it seems that’s not going to happen today.

Once I get home, I call Ashley to let her know the house is ready. She doesn't answer her phone, so after the third try, I end up leaving a message telling her to come tomorrow if she wants her keys and to do a final walk-through. Otherwise she’ll have to take it as it is.

I’m so done with this project and everything involving it, making falling asleep a difficult task.

. . .

 

Friday morning, I stretch out of bed and do a silent prayer I see her today. I hope she gets her shit together; I’m worried about how this whole project will end if she doesn’t show up.

When I get to the house, I sweep the floors and clean some of the windows. It’s not part of my job description, but I won’t leave until she’s here, even if that means staying through the night.

She’ll have to come see this place at some point.

That also means she’ll have to face me, too.

 

 

Chapter 6

 

I’m sitting on the back porch, nursing a can of Coke when I hear the back door of the house open. Knowing who it is, I don’t turn around. I can’t. I’ve been waiting all day for her. I’ve been out here for the last two hours watching the sun set over the lake and praying I somehow get to make this right with her.

“Devon?” Her voice is soft, so different from the confident girl from a month ago. Things are different now between us. I know it and so does she.

I set my can on one of the steps and stand from my spot. Turning toward her, I take in her appearance. Her face is gaunt and her eyes tired and glassy. Furrowing my brows, I ask, “Are you okay, Ashley?”

She nods and takes a tentative step toward me. “Yeah—” she looks to the ground “—I’m sorry.” She continues after a deep breath. “I should have come this week. I should have called you.” She looks up, her eyes meeting mine. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Devon.”

I’m not sure if she’s talking about the house, the other night when I crossed the line or me in general, so I don’t comment on it. I just want to get this over with and move on.

As if the torture of having her right here isn’t enough, she’s wearing fitted blue jeans that hug her hips perfectly and a T-shirt that makes her tits look spectacular. If it weren’t for the sadness in her eyes, she’d look better than ever.

I scoff. “Good. Can we just do this? Please.” My voice comes out as pained and abrupt, but I don’t care. She’s rendered me a fucking pussy.

A coward.

Too scared to do shit about my feelings for her. I’ve never been scared of a woman before. Not while I was
with
Carole. Hell, not even when I broke up with her.

But this tiny girl in front of me—this woman—she scares me in so many ways, I don’t even know which way is up when she’s around.

Nodding, Ashley turns and walks inside the house, holding the door open for me. “The outside looks great, by the way. It’s exactly how I envisioned it.” Her words sound sincere, but she says it without so much as a glance in my direction.

I take off my boots by the door, and follow her farther inside the house.

Walking through the kitchen she looks around, assessing the trim and details I’ve diligently worked on perfecting so everything resembles her sketches.

Wordlessly, she takes the stairs, and I follow her into each room where all she does is look around in awe. Her eyes are bright and there is a spark there hidden deep that I can’t quite make out. It’s almost as if every room we visit brings her back; as though they are making her whole again.

Once in a while she mumbles something unintelligible under her breath, before looking at me out the corner of her eye. I don’t understand any of it, but I don’t say a word. I won’t. I’m so thrilled to see her this way, with this light, I can’t help but look at her; at the beauty that is her. I’m mesmerized and I see her here, in this house. I see it.

We come back downstairs and walk around each room, saving the large living room for last.

She looks up at the fireplace, assessing the custom shelves and mantle, then turns to me grinning. “I can’t believe you did this; the detail is exceptional.”

Her smile confuses me because I don’t know what to make of it. She’s like Jekyll right now and Hyde was the one I had started this tour with. But it’s infectious, this grin and so I give her a soft smile in return. “It’s my job,” I admit simply with a shrug.

She shakes her head and takes a few tentative steps toward me. “No, that’s not...I mean...look at it. Don’t you see?” The light in those eyes, they take me in. Sinking deep, I know I’m drowning.

Tilting my head to the side, I search her face. “What do you mean?” I see it, I do, but she needs to tell me.

She shakes her head, her smile blinding now, before launching herself into my arms and hugging me. “Thank you, Devon. This is perfect.”

Confused, and a little—or a lot—turned on, I hug her back. I may or may not rub myself a little on her thigh. Just a bit. It’s the eyes and the body and the girl.

“Ehmm, you’re welcome?” I breathe her in, burying my nose in her hair and holding her for what seems like forever. I take whatever I can get. My arms around her and hers around me, I relax and breathe as if it’s my last breath.

I feel her nose skim softly against my throat, making my breath falter and a soft groan fall from my lips. I close my eyes and hold her even tighter, not wanting this to end.

“Did you still want to kiss me?” she whispers, her warm breath making me shiver.

Swallowing, I nod into her hair and pull back slightly to look at her face. There aren't any more signs of sadness, all I see there is joy and lust.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” I gently take her face between the palms of my hands and stroke her cheeks with my thumbs. I won’t do it without asking this time. I won’t put myself in that place again. Not unless she says yes. Not unless she wants it as much as I do.

She nods slowly as her tongue peeks out of her parted lips, moistening them. As if she weren’t enough of a temptation, she fists the sides of my flannel and pulls herself impossibly closer to me. I know she can feel how hard I am. She does this to me. She turns me on and inside-out without even trying.

And dammit, I haven’t even kissed her yet.

Her warm breath washes over my face as I lower my lips to hers in a tentative kiss. She whimpers at the contact, and my breathing goes completely erratic as our kiss quickly escalates into a hot, passionate mess. She’s warm and sweet and everything I remember from the other night, but more this time because she wants it.

Taking her bottom lip between my lips, I suck on it lightly and trace it with my tongue as she takes my top lip between hers. She then opens her mouth to me, her tongue meeting mine as her hands roam up my chest and settle into my hair. I groan and pull her close, my hands going up and down her back, fingers digging into her skin.

We kiss and kiss, frantically touching each other, but I’m trying to be a gentleman about it, keeping my hands safely on Ashley’s hips, while she does the complete opposite and rubs herself against my obvious hard-on.

I’m not sure how it happens, but my hands end up cupping her tits while my mouth descends on her collarbones, licking and nipping with my teeth. “Fuck, you taste good.” Like sin and sweets and all girl.

Her hands are on my belt buckle and she’s fidgeting with it, brushing her fingers against the tip of my cock as she pulls at the waist of my pants.

This is going too fast too soon, but I can’t stop her. Taking her lead, I finger the edge of her shirt and pull it up, exposing her slender waist. I feel a little lost as her hands leave my pants and she takes it upon herself to shed her shirt by pulling it over her head.

And that’s when the haze sort of blurs out and reality rears its ugly head. “Shit Ashley, are you sure about this?”

Biting her bottom lip, she pants as her eyes roam my body, and then she finally speaks, her voice coming out low and raspy. “Devon...you are the blindest man.” She shakes her head. “I’ve been doing my best to...stay away from you. I’m not...wasn’t. God—” She fingers her hair, then brings her hand to my jaw, letting her fingers scratch at the stubble. “I didn’t think I could be with someone so soon...and I want this, whatever it is. Us.”

Threading my fingers in her hair, I lean down and brush a kiss against her lips, once, twice. “You do realize we can’t do this only once, because Ashley I don’t think I could ever get enough of you.” The thought of only getting this one chance to be with her this way makes my heart ache.

Her smile is blinding as her eyes twinkle with happiness. This is the first time I see her so free around me, and I never want to see her any other way. “Then don’t stop.” Her hands return to my belt, and even though this is certainly not the right place, and it’s probably not the right time, I kiss her with everything I have.

Clothes are quickly discarded, but not as frantically as before. I take my time letting my hands roam over all her curves and kissing every piece of exposed skin. This is everything I have been dreaming, wanting, coveting in these past weeks while making this house into something she’d be proud of. She is everything.

We’re in our underwear, and as awkward as it is, I’m glad the carpet is thick and plush as I lay her back and kiss her. I’ve never disrespected a customer this way, but since the boss is with me, I suppose I can make an exception.

Her hands are in my underwear, stroking me, and I’m trying to get her bra unhooked. Seemingly, I’ve reverted back to a helpless virgin as I struggle with the damn hook. “Jesus, what is wrong with this thing,” I mumble against Ashley’s skin, making her laugh.

She pushes me off her and sits up, then proceeds to unhook it. “It’s not that hard, Devon,” she teases then pulls off the offending garment, throwing it in my face, giggling the whole time.

She’s a devil-woman and I like it.

“Oh, yes it is
that hard
...and you’re going to pay for that.” I crawl on all fours toward her until I’m settled between her thighs with my mouth attached to her tits. I lick and suck and tease until her giggles turn into moans as her hands go back to my dick.

Leaning on my elbow, I palm her sex over her lacy underwear, feeling the heat of her. Her hips rotate to meet my hand as I brush a fingertip up and down her pussy, feeling the wetness seep through the lace, clearly driving her to the brink.

“Take them off, please,” she pleads, and kisses my shoulder, neck, and any piece of skin she can get her mouth on. She sucks on the skin of my collarbone and gently bites at my Adam’s apple getting me lost in her touch. Her breathing comes in quick little pants when I hook both sides of her delicate panties and slide them down her legs.

As I settle back between her thighs, I let her lower my boxers, first with deft fingers and then with her toes.

“Condom?” I ask, my forehead resting against her chest, breathing erratically as her hands skim up and down my back. I need to gain some sort of control before I come all over her. If that happens, it’ll be game over and I’m pretty sure I won’t get a second chance.

“I have some in my purse,” she replies, and I look up at her, quirking an eyebrow in question, making her snicker. “What? I’m a safety girl. Besides, I’ve had...fantasies about you, Mr. James.” First off, the fact she’s quoting
Pretty Woman
should probably not be what I’m thinking of right now, and second, I doubt her fantasies come anywhere close to the ones I’ve had about her.

“Oh, my God, Ashley,” I groan out against her skin and suck a taut nipple into my mouth, my dick brushing up against her slick flesh. “Feel what you do to me? That’s no laughing matter.”

She giggles and groans, making her tits jiggle as she moves under me. “Don’t judge me. Nobody’s touched me in over a year, and actually I bought the condoms this afternoon.”

I bring myself eye-to-eye with her and search her face, taking note of her smile, the twinkle in her eyes and the dark brown tangled halo of hair around her head. She’s so beautiful, it takes my breath away.

“So, you were expecting this?” I tilt my head to the side, my eyes never leaving hers as I sit up.

She reaches toward her purse and takes out a little black box. “I wasn’t
expecting
this,” she explains, taking one of the condoms out of the box. “But I was planning on asking you out.” She crawls over to me on her knees and I help her lay down once again. It all feels so weird and normal; as though we’ve done this a hundred times before. Only, if we had, I’d remember every damn time. Each would be engraved in my memory for me to look back on every chance I get.

“You were? And what if I would have said no?” I challenge, kneeling between her parted legs. Like hell I would have said no. At this point, I’d probably follow her to Hell and back, just to make sure she’s okay.

She shrugs. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead, to be honest.” Her hands are in my hair and she’s tickling my neck, and I can tell she’s a little nervous by the way she bites her lip and shifts her hips.

I look down her body and see all of her exposed to me. Her vulnerability is apparent and this says so much. She trusts me, I know. I see it. I guess that’s one thing I didn’t screw up on this job. One of many things, actually.

Opening the little foil packet, I sheath myself in latex and lower my body over hers, cradling her head between my forearms. “I’ve been thinking about this since the first time I heard your voice,” I confess, softly kissing her. Her lips are warm and supple as they move with mine.

The low keening noise coming from the back of her throat is the sexiest noise I’ve ever heard. It turns me on like nothing else ever has. I want to hear all her noises and hope I’m the last person who ever does.

The carpet sort of burns my elbows and knees, but as I line myself up with her, and push myself into her heat, everything around us disappears. She’s warm and tight around me, as she grinds her hips, meeting mine thrust for thrust.

The fire we had earlier returns, as we both work toward our mutual release. She feels so good, and I tell her repeatedly as she gives herself over to me. Those noises of hers get louder and her mouth forms this little “O” as she breathes.

Drawing her hips closer to mine, I grab onto her legs and wrap them higher around me, reaching deeper inside her with every push and pull of my hips.

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