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His eyes refocused, seeing me again.
Pain flooded there. It was raw and real and visceral, and I gasped. A surge of need to take it away flooded me.
Anything. I had to help.
“Ashton. Your mother—”
“Hated me,” he clipped out.
“What?” I froze. “What did you say?” I reached up, catching him with both of my hands, but he blinked, and it was gone. That small window, so fleeting. It closed up, though he remained where he was. He stood, holding me, touching me, as I was framing his face—he could’ve been on the other side of the room.
I slid a hand down to his chest, tamping down on the throb that filled the inside of my entire chest cavity for him. “Not that I’m really complaining, but the whole hand on my neck, and your thumb doing these magical things to me, and you know, feeling your hips down here and being backed against a wall . . . I mean, a girl can have so many fantasies before one is needing to come true. So could you, um, could you either do something or step back?”
“Do something?” His eyes went back to mine, holding me in place.
My throat swelled up. “Right. Or step back.” But I pressed against him, ignoring the emotional distance, because he was locked back in. He was seeing me, not her. He was feeling me, not her.
“Step back?” He frowned, his thumb moving over my mouth again. His eyebrows pinched together, and he began to bend down, folding over me even more.
Oh man. I was feeling him between my legs, and I said, a faint plea, though I wasn’t feeling it in a faint way, “Please.”
His eyes flared, and I tensed because I had no idea what he was going to do, but then a whole new intensity exploded from him, and he was reaching for me. “Ashton!”
A female’s voice began shrieking from inside the house.
He went rigid over me.
A door crashed open behind us, and that same voice shrieked again: “Ashton!”
I—fuck it.
I reached up and stood up, and I fused my mouth to his.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ASHTON
I ripped myself away from Molly, my whole body trembling because holy fuck, the need to tear down her leggings, throw her up against the wall, and sink my dick deep inside of her was tearing through me at a breakneck speed.
She tore something down inside of me. Something I needed, the last bit of restraint with her.
She didn’t just tear it down. She took a battering ram to it, and I was shaken, taking her in. Only her in. I was ignoring the emotions clawing through me.
Only Molly. I could only feel Molly.
I was also going to murder Remmi West because I knew who’d just stormed her way in.
“What are you doing here?” I had to get ahold of myself, but I half growled at Trace’s sister.
She was coming in, hoop earrings. Leather jacket. Her dark hair swept up, piled high, and she was wearing her usual black pants. Trace’s sister liked to dress the Mafia-princess stereotype, but today there was no faux fur jacket.
Remmi ignored me, her neck craning so she could see Molly. “Who’s that?” She pointed at her.
I pushed her hand down. “None of your business. What are you doing here, and how did you get here?”
“She came with me.” Marco stepped around her, coming into the room, and he was eyeing Molly too.
I cursed, raking a hand over my head as I squared off against my cousin. He was family. Of course he’d know about the compound, but Remmi?
“What are you doing here?”
Marco’s eyes narrowed before he turned back to me. “Trace called. Said he couldn’t get ahold of you, and it was imperative. I thought this was the one place you’d go where you wouldn’t answer his call, and since Remmi had just landed at the airport, I picked her up and brought her here to see if you were here, and you are.” He motioned to me.
I stared at him. Hard.
He grinned back. “Relax. I know you got this place cell jammed, and I shared with Remmi this place is secret to even her family.”
Remmi smiled at me. “Oh yeah. I wore a blindfold, headphones, and a bag over my head. I felt very Ozark-like. It was awesome, but really . . .” She approached Molly. “Who are you?”
I cursed, moving forward.
Molly was about to answer, but I stepped in between her and Remmi. “She’s no one.”
Remmi’s head moved back, her eyes widening a tiny bit.
She was Trace’s sister, but in many ways, she was also mine. When he couldn’t handle her or take care of her, I stepped in. Hell. I stepped in a lot of times even before he was given a chance to be her brother. That was me, taking care of the fires before they turned into infernos, and her being here was the start of another one that would rage out of control.
