Breaking His Rules Read online

  There was such tenderness in the moment. I pulled her closer as her quaking subsided.

  “Ashton,” she said softly, and shifted so she was lying nearly on top of me, her warm face on my chest and hand stroking my skin.

  “Yes?” I responded, kissing the top of her head.

  “Next time, can you do that in a Batman mask?”

  “Fuck yes.” I laughed, pulling her closer, as if it were possible.

  We both allowed the laughter to consume us until my sides ached. Terra raised her head and pressed her soft lips to mine. “You’ve earned the pancakes tonight. Where the hell did you learn to do that?”

  “I’ve lived a storied life. Let’s just leave it at that, love.”

  I must have answered well, because she kissed me again and took her time standing up. “I need to get a robe. I have some jogging pants that are really, really big that I keep for my comfort clothes. Would you like to borrow them? I must warn you, they have sheep on them.”

  “I’ll be fine in my boxers and tank, thank you very much. We’ll save them for a time when I’m feeling sheepish.” I laughed again and sat upright on the couch.

  “Funny ass. I’ll be right back.”

  When she left, I picked my pants up, pulled on my boxers, and headed off to the bathroom to clean myself up. The more time I spent at her place, the more it reminded me of something out of House & Garden. Soft pale greens and blues contrasted over every wall and ornate paintings lined the hallway on the way to the guest bathroom. Thankfully, she had some towels that were obliviously for use, other than the decorative ones hanging from various hooks, complementing the soft rose coloring of the bathroom.

  We’d shower together later, I decided as I cleaned up just enough to put my clothes back on. By the time I returned, she was on the couch in a long white satin gown. She was positively glowing, and I wasn’t sure whether it was the orgasm or me that put the smile on her face.

  “Your house is amazing. Really beautiful.”

  Terra held out a glass of wine to me and nodded. “Thank you. Again, I can’t take the credit. When I moved in here, I had a friend of mine decorate. She’s an incredible interior designer squandering her talents by running a credit union.”

  I walked over to her, her eyes running over my body as I moved closer to her. My cock had not completely gone down, but that was merely because I was around her. “Thank you,” I said, taking the glass and drinking the rest of my wine. It was the first time I’d made it through a glass of anything alcoholic all night.

  “No, you’ve got that wrong. Thank you,” she said, a devious smile on her lips.

  “The pleasure was all mine.” Before I took a seat beside her, I kissed her luscious mouth. I pulled away and set the glass on the table, but when I turned back, she was still leaning forward, as if she wanted…needed more. Obliging her, I took her again, my mouth crushing hers. I was almost on top of her when she pulled away.

  “So, no pancakes?”

  “Fuck the pancakes.”

  She laughed, but didn’t kiss me again. Instead, she pushed me back onto the couch and got onto her knees in front of me. “I’ve got something better than that in mind…”

  “Yeah, fuck those pancakes,” I said again, either because I was stricken stupid by her sensual mouth so close to my cock or because I’d never eat pancakes again if it meant having a woman so beautiful, funny, and kind between my legs and in my life.

  She freed my instantaneously hard penis from the confines of my boxers again, and with both hands on my shaft, pulled me into her mouth. The suction on my head took my breath and I had to fight to keep my hips squarely on the seating. She must have known because she took a hand and pressed it into my chest while her head bobbed up and down, up and down, making me disappear deep inside her over and over again.

  Right then and there, I knew if I died I would leave the earth a happy, happy man.

  * * *

  —

  I was tangled in her web, warm all over. The difference was, it was coming from inside of me. I watched as she lay in my arms leisurely twirling a lock of her hair. “What are you thinking about?”

  She looked to me, as if she’d been so comfortable she’d forgotten she wasn’t alone. “Oh…nothing. I just have to go visit my aunt tomorrow and then stop by to see Gloria. I need to let her know I haven’t cut my wrists or anything. You know, she’s a touch of a mama bear. It’s okay, because I am, too.”

  “What time are you going?” I asked. Why was I asking? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I was worried over the asshole coming back to visit her again. Which was crazy. He was locked up. She was going to get a restraining order. He’d have to be insane to come round bothering her again.

  “Probably later. Auntie Sonja has taken to church bingo on Wednesday afternoon. That or her yoga classes. She was never really one to sit around the house. Even at seventy-three, she’s still getting around, and sassy at that.” She laughed.

  “How about I go with you? I leave work around five. As long as the traffic isn’t too bad, I could meet you here at close to six.”

  Terra sat up this time to look at me. “Ashton, I don’t know if we’re at the stage to meet each other’s family.” Her brow was furrowed again. She did that when she was concerned.

  “Friends don’t meet friends’ family? You should tell Gary’s mother to stop sending me her famous lasagna then,” I said.

  Her lips puckered as if she were on to me. “I don’t need anyone to protect me. I have a concealed weapon permit. And I actually know how to use it.”

  The image of the black bag in her bedroom flitted across my mind. “But if it’s all the way in your dresser, how will you get to it? Besides, I have concerns about you feeling the need to arm yourself when going to your aunt’s house.”

  “I know when to carry, Ash. I’ve lived in Detroit for a while now. Like my whole life. I have a talent for heading off trouble.” She laid her head down on my arm again, leaving her mane of hair to spill over the pillows.

  “Okay, well it would make me feel better then. Unless…you’re nervous about your aunt meeting me. I am a problem child after all,” I said, not even kidding, though I couldn’t be as bad as her ex-husband.

  She coughed out a laugh. “You do have a thing for older women. I should keep my eye on you around her. She’s pretty damned spicy,” she said, nudging me and tucking in closer against my body.

  “No, you don’t have to worry there. I don’t think I could handle an older version of you. I can barely keep up with your wit, let alone someone more seasoned than you.”

  “Fine. You can come. But don’t feel like you have to pretend to be more than we are. I know how you feel about relationships.”

  “And I know how you feel about them…”

  For some reason, the air grew quiet. I had more to say, but couldn’t manage to get the words out. There was nothing uncomfortable about her lying in my arms as the hours ticked away on the clock. I had no idea when the sun would rise, but I also wasn’t antsy about its arrival. Or I could tell her that if the world were burning down right now, I would hesitate to go get a fire extinguisher because it would mean leaving her lying there alone while I was gone. I could tell her that I hadn’t even thought about my rules in I don’t know how long, save her reminding me to tread lightly. I could tell her all those things, but none of them would work their way out of my mouth. Then it struck me. “Did I earn a nickname?”

  “Hmm…”

  “You call me Ash.”

  “I…” She stalled out for a moment as if the realization hit her. “I guess you did.”

  “I’ll be here at six,” I whispered into her curls.

  “Okay,” she said, planting a light kiss on my arm.

  When we awakened the next morning, the sun was up. Another first for Terra and me.

  Chapter 16<
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  Terra

  We arrived at my aunt’s house on the east side of Detroit a little after seven. It was a small bungalow with tall wrought iron fencing all the way around. She’d left the gate open for me and the house looked warm and toasty in the dying light of the sun.

  We drove my car so I could store it in her garage and get the good old reliable Wrangler. As much as I loved my new toy, it was no match for Michigan winters. So away it would go before the streets turned to ice. Ashton and I had just finished putting the cover on it in Aunt Sonja’s garage when I heard the familiar sound of her voice drifting in.

  “Terra,” she called again, and I stepped out to find her coming off the back porch. She wore a pretty gray dress with stylish low-heeled boots. Her white locks were neatly tucked into a bun on the back of her head and she had on an apron, obviously cooking dinner for us. She walked toward us, her pale brown cheeks slightly reddened by a light blush she loved wearing. “Sweetheart, look at you. You look like a living doll. Come inside, the hawk is out.” She greeted me nearly the same every time. In the summer, it was “You’ll catch a heatstroke,” in the late fall, it was the hawk. In other words, the cold winds were blowing.

  “All right, Auntie. But wait, I want you to meet Ashton. He’s a friend of mine I told you about this morning.”

  Her brow quirked, and I didn’t know what exactly it meant. She either loved him or hated him. She was like that. I waited as he extended a hand to her. “Hello there, Ms. Sonja,” he greeted her, just like I’d coached him in the car. Ma’am would have gotten him killed, and anything else was unheard of when greeting my aunt.

  “Well, now. Ashton, you said, right?” she replied, taking his hand. I sucked in air to see what would happen next, since it was still too early to tell whether she hated him on sight. “We don’t shake hands around here. We hug. Come on in, son.” Pulling him in, she wrapped her arm around his waist and gave him a squeeze.

  Whew. She liked him. Her actions also forced a warm spike into my heart. She’d never, ever hugged Marcus. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Sonja,” Ashton said into her ear as he leaned into her.

  My aunt released him and patted his biceps, maybe a little too hard. She’d lived in the South for a while before returning to Michigan, sometime before my parents died. She brought back some pretty Southern customs. Like taking your shoes off when you came into the house. We all took them off at the side of the back door and walked into the kitchen, where something that smelled magical was cooking. “What are you making?” I went to grab a pot and she caught my hand with a playful slap.

  “Wash your hands, young lady, and come in here and help me set the table. I made smothered pork chops with fried corn, cabbage, and rice. You go on in there and wash your hands, too, Ashton. Then come back and have a seat at the table. ’Preciate you, now,” she chided. I let Ash go first, since he was a guest.

  The tone in her voice must have let Ash know she wasn’t kidding, either. Southern charm with a touch of do what I said. “Absolutely, Ms. Sonja.”

  I loved her meals. She had been laboring over them from the time I was a youth. Her husband, my Uncle Henry, had passed on when I was sixteen, but she never stopped cooking enough for an army. Fortunately, I’d seen Ashton eat, so I knew he wouldn’t let her down. She tried so hard to teach me to cook, but the only thing that took was my mom’s pancakes. Maybe because they felt like something I could keep from a loved one who’d left too soon.

  I went back into the kitchen after washing my hands to find Ashton seated at the table like a perfectly mannered gentleman who hadn’t gone down on me before allowing us to leave my condo earlier. “Comfortable?” I scolded. Another Southern trait of days gone by, serving dinner to men, that stung at my feminism.

  “Oh yes, positively.”

  Before I could land a pop on his shoulder, I heard my aunt again. “Terra. Come in here and get Ashton some of this iced tea.” It was never too cold outside for sweet tea.

  “Coming,” I said, making a face at Ash behind my aunt’s back. He stuck his tongue out at me, the buster that he was.

  I gave him a glass of tea. Then made his plate. Got him some pepper and then some of the special cha-cha, a relish dish from Georgia, from my aunt’s fridge. He must have liked it all, because after dinner his plate was clean. When I was done with dishes, oh my god—I hated acting old-school Southern—we sat around her fireplace in the living room and listened to her tell us about her day.

  “Well, you know, I never liked Terra’s ex-husband. He was a bastard from the gate,” she said, surprising us midsentence after a particularly long-winded complaint about the number of times the collection plate was passed in church last Sunday.

  “Oh, Auntie Son—”

  She raised a hand and stopped me in my tracks. Residual effect from my youth. “But I do know people. I can spot a stupid man from the moment I lay eyes on him. I can spot a decent one, too. One of the benefits of being just three years younger than Jesus. You know…I met my Henry, and the moment I saw him, I turned around to your great-aunt Denise and said to her, ‘I’m marrying that man.’ Yes, I did. A year later, I was his wife. We’d still be together if it wasn’t for his cancer. That was the one thing our love couldn’t beat. You know, it still didn’t win, because I love him just as much today as I did the day I married him. I do.” She leaned back in her chair after taking a sip of tea. “That means that I have a talent for knowing good people when I meet them. And you, young man, have a good heart. Even though your hair is way too long. You know, you young men never did value a good haircut.”

  And that was the end of it. She’d given her consent for Ashton to be in our lives. Of course, she would never presume to tell me who I could and could not date, but her consent meant that I could freely bring him to her house. As in, I wouldn’t have to pay someone to cut her grass if I had someone capable enough in my life. Or shovel her snow. She never wanted Marcus doing that stuff. She just didn’t trust him. Something in her spirit had warned her off him. I should have listened to her spirit instead of my own. It had forced a wedge between us. I’d purposefully stayed away from her during those years with Marcus, only to return when I’d dumped him and lost the 175 pounds of bad husband. “Yes, Ms. Sonja. I should perhaps think of getting one. It’s been a while and I’m starting to look like a scamp.”

  She smiled warmly at him taking her advice. “Well no, Ashton. You are a good-looking young man. You just need to take a little off along the collar and you’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll do that,” he agreed.

  I didn’t add anything to the conversation. Part of me was amazed that she’d liked him, and the other part was amazed with him. He was working hard to be on his best behavior. In my heart, that little girl was back, and she whispered that he wanted my aunt to like him so I’d like him more. I pushed her away again and locked down the extra emotion. Ashton and I had agreed to do what we felt was right and take it all slowly. The problem was every part of me seemed to gang up on my sanity.

  * * *

  —

  We left my aunt’s house and were leaving Soar after seeing Gloria and helping her shut down. She was pleased to see that I hadn’t actually fallen into the depths of depression, per the usual routine.

  “I’m glad you guys could come by and keep me company,” she said. She was nearly effervescent, and I’d have to double back and check on her activities from her night with Gary.

  “Anytime, honey,” I said, placing the last of the wineglasses behind the bar. She’d sent her bartender home early. Once I was done, I walked over to her and Ashton, who’d just finished sweeping the floor with a dust mop.

  “So…what happened with Marcus?”

  Gloria gently broached the question and looked from me to Ash. “I don’t know. I think he’s probably still in jail.”

  “Well, hopefully there wasn’t overcrowding fro
m the weekend. Sometimes they let people out quickly on personal bonds,” Ashton added.

  A bundle of nerves quickly formed in the base of my stomach. “They don’t let drug addicts out on personal bond, do they?” I was woefully ignorant of the ways of the justice system and had honestly been hopeful I wouldn’t have to deal with him for a while.

  “Well, you should get a restraining order to keep him away, but unfortunately, the criminal justice system isn’t as strict on nonfelonious crimes. They technically only arrested him on a minor assault charge. Unless he was in trouble seriously before, he could get released because of things like overcrowding,” he explained.

  “It’s fine, Terra. I’m sure Ashton is right.” Gloria came into the lobby area and had a seat at the table and I took the one next to her.

  I couldn’t help the trepidation that crept in on me, though. He probably was right. Marcus hadn’t been that brave in the past. Whatever was going on with him would have needed to be a matter of life or death for him to try anything else.

  And even that didn’t stop the shadow of worry from crowding in on my brief moment of happiness.

  * * *

  —

  Back at my place, I watched as Ashton pulled decorative pillows from my bed and neatly set them on the bench at the foot of my bed before climbing onto the bed. Right next to the bag he’d brought with him from work. That bag said a lot of things to me. One, that he was spending the night for the second time in two days. Two, he had taken a step closer to growing more comfortable with me. And finally, I was about to enter friends-with-benefits territory. It wasn’t quite as scary as boyfriend territory, and a couple of days prior, I would have thrown him and his things out of the door.

  But now…Now that he’d protected me from my ex, gotten crowned okay by my Auntie Sonja, and seemed to have Gloria smitten with him as well, I was good with moving a step closer to Ash. And maybe our talk about being open to new experiences with each other hadn’t hurt, either. It felt like all the games you have to play when you first met people were no longer driving a wedge between us. I felt something for Ash, but there was time to find out what that was, barring anything crazy happening.