Realization dawns. Oh crap. “You’ve been fighting again?”
He shrugs.
Annoyed, I push past him and drop the bag with the food on the coffee table. “Who did you beat up?”
He closes the door and follows me into the living room, a corner of his mouth lifting in an amused smirk. “Worried about him?”
Is he dense? I’m worried about Ash, but I’m also upset. On top of my mother’s words against him and my defending of him, he’s gone and done what I said he wouldn’t: he’s been fighting. He’s gone back to his old ways.
“Why are you fighting again?” I ask.
“Because I like the pain,” he growls, and it’s so not funny.
“I brought food,” I say, so angry that I consider turning around and leaving.
“That why you came?” He eyes the bag on the table, then his gaze returns to me, sliding over me, hot like fire.
I need to go, I know that. If he refuses to stay out of bar fights, then there’s nothing for us to talk about. My last boyfriend was like that and I don’t need a repeat of that relationship.
But I hesitate. “I’m here because I thought you wanted to talk. My mom left. I didn’t know she was coming. Sorry about all that.”
“Your mom doesn’t like me.” He says it quietly, and it’s such an understatement after all the acid she threw at him I have to smile.
“She doesn’t know you. If she did, she’d like you.”
“So you like me, then?” The half smile is back, and it’s hard to remain angry at him.
“If you haven’t guessed that much, you’re dumber than you look.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” he says, peering into the bag with the food. “That you like me, I mean. Not the dumb part.”
I don’t want to smile. I’m still mad at him, dammit! So I turn toward the kitchen to grab some water and hide my face. “When is Zane back?”
“Tomorrow.”
Ash’s voice makes me pause at the kitchen door. He sounds unhappy. Which is odd. “And Erin?”
“And Erin,” Ash says, and suddenly he’s right behind me, startling me. His hand trails down my back, sending shivers through me, and his breath caresses my neck. “What are you really doing here, Auds?”
I
open my mouth but nothing comes out.
“Didn’t your mom tell you not to hang out with me?” he goes on, his hand slipping around my waist, resting at the top of my leggings. “That I’m bad for you. That I get into fights. You shouldn’t be here. Or do you like going against the rules?”
I need him to touch me. I suck in a sharp breath when his fingers dip under the waistband of my leggings, brushing the top of my panties.
“We should talk,” I manage as his fingertips move further down, slipping under my panties.
“I don’t wanna talk right now,” he whispers, his lips branding the back of my neck, while his fingers stroke me, pushing inside me.
Oh god. “Ash...”
His other hand caresses my arm, then moves to my breast. I hiss in a breath when his thumb brushes over the hardening peak, while his other hand strokes me from the inside. Sparks of pleasure shoot through me; my blood runs hot in my veins.
I’m coming apart so fast my mind is spinning.
He presses against my back, his arousal hard and thick, and the feel of it pushes me over the edge. I shudder and moan, rocking on his hand, the world dissolving into mind-blowing pleasure.