Breaking His Rules Page 8

  “I am…I am inside you,” I replied, moving my fingers and thumb deeper, harder against her slickness.

  Panting wildly, she breathed, “Your dick…I want to feel it inside my pussy.” As she said the words, her body strained against mine as if my cock could be willed into the exact position she desired. I loved it. This fantastic woman was on the edge of the world and taking me with her.

  “Your wish, love,” I whispered against her mouth. Pulling away from her, I practically ripped the condom wrapper in half to place it on my swollen cock. I was so ready for her, despite our earlier activities, it was already weeping and fighting against the internal battle for control. I stuck my tongue inside her and felt her thighs collapse around my head. She was riding my face and I dove inside her wetness as far as I could go with my mouth.

  “Ashton,” she cried out.

  “Not yet,” I said, pulling away, then kissing and biting my way up her body. She was panting, body tense and her back arched as if she were searching for her center.

  I leaned in, knees bent and touching the cold bars of the railing until my cock was at her entry. “Oh my god,” she cried out, a hoarse and strained sound that seemed to rip from her chest.

  I sank inside her, sheathing myself with her body, and felt the explosion of heat and contractions deep inside her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and caught up to the wild movements she’d given herself over to.

  In the darkness, we created our own music and dance to the beat of our bodies. I held tight, her restraints pinning her arms and legs as we found our groove, our place in the world with each other. I bent lower to kiss her neck, to taste her sweet flesh and run my teeth along her soft skin. Her moans and wails were a mix of treble and bass, the finest music in my ears.

  I cursed the restraints for preventing me from turning her around, from raising her legs over my shoulders, and we both began to thrash against them, the fabric creaking, protesting our moves. They gave enough for me to position myself deeper, my body scooping lower to hit the place inside her that forced a tremor from both of us.

  “That was it, Terra. Come for me…come with me,” I demanded.

  “Yes, Ash…fuck me,” she said, the timbre of her voice lower, almost foreign and urgent.

  The force of my thrust was enough to ring out on the railing, the thrum of the wrought iron underscoring our hushed cries and groans.

  “That’s it,” I growled as her body seemed to convulse around my cock. I held her waist as I slammed out the start of my release. I held on to her for fear that she would fly away, that she would miss the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had. The guttural moans tore from my body and she yelled my name while thrashing and bucking against me.

  As I spilled the last of my energy and soul inside Terra, I called out to the heavens, because only some greater force could have taken us to such a place of majesty

  We slowed and I held on to her, more for her, but a part of me didn’t want to let go of that feeling. It was consuming and could not have been more powerful if accompanied by lightning. As she sagged against me, I began to untie her wrists. Raising both of them to my mouth, I kissed where the hosiery bound her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered in a sleepy voice.

  “Oh, it’s been my greatest pleasure,” I murmured, and released her wrists and allowed the fabric to slide down her body. I gently pulled out of her, but hadn’t actually wanted to be free from her. She felt comfortable and sure, as if she were a part of my own body. Untying the binds at her feet, I ran kisses over each ankle as I removed the fabric. I didn’t bother picking up the hosiery from the balcony, instead focusing on getting her back to the bed. Once there, I laid her on her side and slid in behind her and wrapped my arms around her. I folded her into me and then, well, I wondered why I didn’t care which rule I was breaking.

  * * *

  —

  I watched her as she made us very early morning breakfast. I was crazy hungry, and she was preparing pancakes. Okay, so technically I wasn’t officially breaking any of my rules yet. It was four o’clock in the morning and we’d had a full evening of sex. The only thing that stopped me was being out of condoms. I needed the sustenance, dammit. She had no cheese. No fruit. But she did have wine. So be it. Wine and pancakes it was. She’d said she wasn’t big on cooking, but had always loved her mother’s start-from-scratch recipes for things. This was after she’d told me about being brought up by her aunt when her parents died in a car crash. And I’d told her about my mother’s battle with cancer. Not about my father, though.

  Fuck. So the rules in my playbook were actually rubbish. But the sun had not yet risen. Still safe, right? Had to be. There was no way I was anything other than charmed by her cavalier attitude toward sex and the delightful smell that wafted about her kitchen. She hadn’t even started cooking yet and the scent of vanilla and cinnamon had taken over.

  The rules are the rules, Ashton…you jackass. The mental reminder rang out as if it were a warning siren inside my head.

  “Syrup or jam?”

  “Who the hell has jam on pancakes? What kind of monsters do you hang out with?” I asked on a laugh.

  Terra was wearing a silky pink robe, a short one that showed off her long, shapely legs. She had a nightgown on beneath it that skimmed the top of her breasts and showed off her ass when she bent over. It was sexy as hell.

  “I heard English people liked weird shit. Sue me. See if I try to be culturally respectful again.”

  “I haven’t been there since I was eight. I just like the accent and never tried to change it. I would never desecrate the sacred ground that is pancakes with something like jam. Now, there is one ingredient that I could tell you about, but you aren’t ready for insider secrets.”

  “You are so crazy. Here, man,” she said as she approached with a heavenly plate of carbohydrate-laden goodness with butter expertly melted first instead of square globs lying on top. She must have been some kind of pancake connoisseur. I loved carbs. I watched her saunter across the vast stainless steel bastion that was her kitchen. I’d taken a seat at the marble-topped island so I could watch her as she cooked. And talk to her. Okay, also, when she stirred the batter, her tits jiggled, and it was strangely erotic.

  “Do you know how sexy it is for a woman to bring me unhealthy food in a robe that doesn’t actually cover a damn thing?”

  “What is it with men watching women do domestic shit, like that’s all we’re good for?”

  “There you go again. Your immediate response is a question. It’s kind of a deflection. Are you seeking therapy for that?”

  “I’ve got too many other things to talk to a therapist about. For instance, welcoming strange men back to my home and making them pancakes in the middle of the night. Could be daddy issues?”

  “Or a healthy carbohydrate fetish. To which I am not opposed, since I’m the recipient of said carbs.”

  “Oh ho, listen to you. User. And I bet you’ll be running like thirty miles tomorrow to work that off your immaculate body.”

  “Forty. At least. What about you? Can’t be eating at least a thousand calories every night and looking like that.”

  “I only do this with randoms about once a month. You know, I’m classy like that.”

  With a smile, she sat the plate down with a bottle of Mrs. Butterworth’s beside it before retreating to the stove to make her own plate. She came back and sat beside me, her naked thigh touching my own. Down, Ollie. No way was I heading out to get more condoms in the middle of the night.

  I took the opportunity to glance around her open-floor plan of her condo. Her furniture was definitely upscale, muted gray tones mixed in with larger chocolate-colored leather pieces. She was for sure wealthy. Not something she’d let on when we’d first met. Hell, I didn’t even know how old she was. It didn’t matter, I guess, but she was the first woman who was equally
as secretive. Kind of surprising. Maybe the appropriate word was refreshing.

  “Good?”

  I took another bite and turned to face her. “Almost as good as you are,” I teased.

  She was midbite and tossed me a smirk between chewing. “Boy, we are completely out of condoms. Looks like the end of the road for that.” She’d put her curly hair up into a ponytail, which shifted back and forth as she shook her head at me. Cute AF.

  In an instant, a consuming pang hit me in the chest. I had been pleased when she’d called off work instead of leaving me with a hard cock, longing for her sex and needing a cold shower. Both of those things together let me know I needed to rein in my shit. Clearly I had indigestion.

  “Okay. I’ll behave. I’m going to be dead at work as it is.” I laughed.

  She didn’t. “I guess after we eat you’ll have to take off.”

  I waited, unsure of what to say. Was she kicking me out? I’d never actually had a woman say that to me before, so what was it? Yeah, she was kicking me out. Okay. “Yeah, I guess I should. I can’t afford to miss a day. I don’t have a Hellcat type of income,” I said. I laughed again, the air somehow sucked from the room. Light. Airy. Like a spring day. This definitely was not. Defo.

  “Yeah, well. You know, I was being indulgent. It is my birthday after all. Well, was my birthday. Last Sunday.”

  I was taken aback for a moment. Kind of stunned. Why hadn’t she said anything? Then again, why would she? I was a random, as she’d called me. “Oh shit. The day we met? Well, happy birthday. Maybe if I’d known we could have—”

  “No, don’t be silly. I got what I wanted for my birthday. I’m fully sated. Dancing, pancakes, and sex. Who could ask for more?” She smiled, but the light didn’t reach her eyes. Not like it had before at Mauricio’s and on the balcony. Fuck, I’d never look at a balcony the same way again.

  I took another bite. Chewed the sticky-sweet goodness and thought on how to make this better somehow. Even if I never saw her again, I wanted to end on a high note. She was, after all, a stunning woman. Stunning to look at, stunning in bed, her personality, her pancakes, everything. “Well, we could go on a date tomorrow if you’re free.” What in the actual fuck? I wondered for a moment who was to blame. Had to be Ollie. Damn him.

  She was quiet, though. Really quiet. Too quiet to have just been asked on another date. After a beat, or ten, I heard it. “Um…well, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean, what would the golden girls think if I monopolized all your time?”

  Cold bucket of water dumped on my head. I mean, she was actually turning me down? For serious? “Oh, okay. Yeah…you’re probably right. I do have to get to the geriatric home for bingo tomorrow.”

  “Ha, yeah. Funny,” she said.

  I finished those goddamn delicious pancakes before another word. “Well, you’re right. I do…I do need to take off. This was wonderful, actually, Terra. I mean…”

  “Yeah, okay, honey. I get it. You like my pancakes. Go get dressed before you have to miss a day of work. Don’t want you on welfare. Who’d pay for that Mercedes?”

  She’d taken aim and fired, the bullet landing right on target. She was throwing me out. I stood, and with a bow, dragged my sorry ass up the stairs to put on my clothes. Flicking on the light, I found one sock and my pants…where was my shirt? I hunted around the room for a moment, feeling like a fool for some reason. Oh yeah, front door. I tied my shoes and headed back down the stairs. She was still sitting at the island, finishing off her food.

  I had no words. If I said anything, I would have probably asked her how the hell she could turn me down for a date. Turned. Me. Down. It had never happened before. Perhaps I kept thinking about it because it was so fucking unbelievable. It left me feeling a bit squishy inside.

  Instead, I walked over to her and put my fingers beneath her chin to lift her head before absolutely seizing her mouth. I sucked the syrup and all from her lips, fucking her mouth before releasing her in splendid fashion. Now. Turn that shit down, baby.

  She didn’t say anything. Just sat there with her eyes wide, and I prayed to the good lord above that she was fucking drenched between her legs. “Good morning, Terra.”

  With that, I turned away, collected my shirt and jacket, then walked out the back door, all the while praying she wouldn’t open that garage door and would change her mind about the date. But why?

  When I stepped through the door and got to my car, I heard the motor for the door whine. Then the clinking started of the garage lifting. She’d actually done it. Let me leave without so much as a word.

  Who was this woman? Obviously, insane. She really did need therapy. I was a catch after all. No one threw me out. She’d given me a nickname, for Christ’s sake. The feeling in my gut demanded I conquer her, break down the wall she’d hoisted around her. Then again, none of what pooled in my stomach was within my personal prescription. None of it would support the lifestyle I’d carefully constructed. It was more ego than anything else. And my ego could be just as demanding as my cock.

  Fuck that shit. I got into my car and peeled off. Goodbye for real, Terra, I thought as I turned the corner and made my way back to Jefferson Avenue. She was good in bed, and that was that. No sense in letting my cock drive me toward a woman who couldn’t even be bothered to tell me up front that she didn’t want to be bothered.

  By the time I got on the main drag, I’d resolved to forget about her before I made it across town to my condo. No more Terra.

  * * *

  —

  Except she was still on my mind near the end of the workday. So much so, I’d taken leave of my sanity and called her. She didn’t answer, which put me in even more of a sour mood. Not only that, I was breaking my no contact on Friday or Saturday rule. Dammit all to hell.

  The drab beige of Frontier Pharmaceuticals corporate offices provided no distraction, either. My ego was working overtime to regain my status of never being shown the door. Go see her, it chided me, and all I wanted was for the sadistic bastard, as me as it could be, to shut the fuck up.

  “ ’Sup, partner?” Gary Shide walked up behind me, loud as ever. Like all of us really. Salespeople were like that. Always with the retorts, always the quick banter.

  “What’s good, mate? Just got back seconds ago. Shitload of interest in Rhobatrin today.”

  Gary nodded, his smirk announcing the quip that was bound to follow. “Opioid constipation relief. Stimulating,” he said before copping a squat adjacent to me in my cube. Our open-air seating didn’t allow for any private spaces.

  “Next time you’re all backed up from your opioids, you’ll come begging.”

  “Highly doubt it. Listen, though, man,” he said. I knew it was serious, so I took a seat. Last time he’d started a sentence like that, I’d had to sell some stock to get him out of trouble. He looked earnest for sure. Oh man, trouble was brewing. “I need some help. You see, this girl is giving me a hard time about a hookup and her friend—”

  “Nope.” I didn’t say any more, sure I didn’t need to.

  Gary leaned back, raised his arms in what seemed to be exasperation, then ran his hands over his face before popping back up and giving me the stare down again. “I need an assist. I’ve tried everyone. She really wants to go to this club and she won’t go without her girlfriend.”

  I leaned back, raising my head to the ceiling and trying to avoid the pleading expression of my blue-suited friend with the receding hairline. “You know I hate that shit. I don’t do clubs, on a weekend no less. I hate going out with couples because I’m strongly opposed to monogamy and I’m sleepy as shit tonight.”

  “But it’s not tonight. It’s Tuesday.”

  “No, bro. Get Maxwell.”

  “He’s engaged.”

  “When? How? He was a bigger slut than all of us,” I said, suddenly giving Gary all my attention.r />
  “Right? So, some chick got her hooks into him and he can’t fight the feeling, I don’t know. Who the fuck cares? The point is, I’m stuck. Been trying to get this girl for months, and now that I have the chance, she’s thrown a flag on the play if I can’t get her friend a date.”

  “I’ve told you before. I even wrote it down. High-maintenance is way too much work. Get yourself a woman who wants the same thing as you. You’ll hurt her less,” I said hypocritically. I mean, I was the one who was sitting there obsessing over a woman I’d seen twice in my entire life.

  “You haven’t seen Gloria. Oh my god. and she’s beautiful. She’s worth the trouble.”

  “This is a recipe for disaster. If she’s interested in someone who wants more, is it fair to…lead her on? Like, are you interested in the same things she’s interested in? Long-lasting relationships and all?”

  “First, not every woman is looking for her husband, dude. What kind of 1940s thinking is that? Anyway, I’m in it for the long haul. However long it takes. Because…because I like her.”

  “Another Maxwell in the making,” I said, swiveling away from him in my chair. I needed to add the sales figures into SalesDay, our software, before the boss checked for our monthly quota. I didn’t have time to skive off with Gary. “You don’t want to try Alec Johnston? He’s probably available…”

  We both turned in Johnston’s direction across the room from us and watched as he munched on ramen noodles straight out of the pack. He was a tech guy. Too smart to bother with trying to make food taste good. Or even edible. I glanced back to Gary, who slowly shook his head. Negative on Johnston.

  “Whateve, man, look…I’ll give you my suite tickets for the Lions game.”

  “Really? Bugger off, mate. The Lions don’t wanna see the Lions.”

  “All right. Suite tickets for the next concert of your choice. Stocked with booze and food.”

  That got my attention. I turned in my chair once more. “Any concert?”