“My name is Ashlyn Hart. I’m a photographer, but I don’t usually do things like this,” she says. I swear there is a hint of a purr in her voice.
“Oh, really?” I ask, brushing back a flaming red lock of her still damp hair from her eyes. She’s not wearing any makeup; it’s a refreshing change from the women I am usually around. There’s a lot going on behind those green eyes, too, which is another rarity.
“Really,” she states, but now her words are breathier. Even with the oversized hoodie, I can see her pulse quickening in the rising and falling of her chest.
“I suppose next you’re going to tell me that you never do things like this,” I say, unzipping the hoodie and letting it fall off her shoulders. Beneath it is nothing more than a black tank top. I don’t think she is even wearing a bra.
“And I suppose you’re going to tell me that just because you have a six-pack, you’re still as relevant and capable as the models half your age. If you’d let me publish those photos, I could have helped you prove that,” she tosses at me.
I study her hard before a smirk crawls across my lips. “First of all, I don’t need your help to show the world I am relevant. I think it’s obvious, don’t you? And secondly, there’s more than six. You’ve stared at my abs long enough, and I know you can count. And last but not least,” I say, tipping her chin up to look directly into my eyes, “I am very capable of anything your pretty little head can come up with…and more.”
My words seem to have loosened her stubborn jaw just enough that her lips part.
Is that an invitation to cover them with mine?
Chapter 3
Ashlyn
I wassurprised when he pressed his lips to mine, but I didn’t resist him at all.
I don’t think a single cell in my body opposed.
It’s hard work pretending to be tough, stubborn, and unafraid when you’re in the house of a man like Zane. His body alone is enough to make you forget what you were saying, and possibly, who you are.
So when Zane pulls me against him, my body naturally responds. My back arches, my nipples grow hard against his warm chest, and I naturally rise to my tiptoes to allow the kiss to go deeper.
His tongue finds mine, teasing it softly without being pushy. He nibbles on my lip, coaxing a small, involuntary moan from my mouth into his.
He smiles against my lips.
“You really never do this?” he asks.
“Which part?” I ask, and it earns me a raspy chuckle.
“All of it.”
“I’m not a virgin if that’s what you’re asking,” I say, biting my lip before going on with the next part. “But I’ve also never been with anyone that really knew what they were doing.”
It’s a terrible thing to say about my ex. He tried his best; I think. But he had nothing on the guy standing in front of me. No one has. It’s enough to have me asking, Mitchell who?
“Well, you are in luck, sweetheart,” Zane says with a smirk on his face. “Because while I don’t usually do things like this either, I’m feeling pretty confident right now.”
I smile, but it fades, and I pull back. “Wait, what do you mean you don’t usually do things like this? No offense, but you come off as a guy who has been…who has a lot of experience…who has no issue with…”
He chuckles again.
“I mean, I don’t usually hook up with photographers,” he says, and I feel the heat rise to my cheeks.
“Oh. Right.”
“But I can definitely make an exception because I’m not used to photographers being as sexy as you…”
This time, I am the one with the smirk crawling across my lips. I press them back to his and the rest comes naturally.
He picks me up and carries me over to the couch, laying me back before grabbing my leggings by the waistband and peeling them off of me. It’s no easy feat considering they’re wet, but thanks to every flexing muscle in this man’s upper body, he has no trouble with it at all.
A moment later, he sends them flying before he crawls on top of me, kissing me again before working his way south. His lips brush my neck and collarbone, and the hair of his perfectly manicured face tickles the skin behind my ears.
