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My shoulders fell down. A heavy weight pressed on my chest. “Yeah. Okay.” Maybe he was right. A shower would make me feel better. Clean clothes. Comfy clothes.
I was so tired.
He came back from the closet, in his sweats from the other night and a T-shirt. It wasn’t fair, how good he could look. “Use my shower.”
I nodded, still feeling like an idiot, but moved past him.
I was beyond worrying about things like clothes. Knowing Ashton, and I was getting to know him, he’d find some new ones for me while I was in the shower and have them ready for me. Or he’d put a robe out while he ordered someone else to go and buy me some. I was beyond thinking of the details, so I stepped into his bathroom. His very spacious and gorgeous bathroom, with a clear glass wall that separated the shower from the rest of the room. It was partitioned off so the shower was deep back.
I turned the shower on, stripped my clothes off, and went under the spray.
I drew in a breath, my head hanging forward, feeling the water beat down on me. Trailed down my back. All the grime, dirt, tears, blood, everything that I hadn’t cleaned earlier was running to the drain now. It felt good. Refreshing. That’s what I needed. A fresh start. A new start.
Then, suddenly, a body was behind me.
I started to yelp, but he moved in. My body recognized his, and I sagged in relief. Ashton.
He reached past me, taking the shampoo, and lathered it into my hair, massaging my head, still pressed up behind me. His mouth was to my ear as he began to rub his hands over me. He was washing me. “You think I enjoyed getting a call from Detective Worthing?” His hand moved down my body. “Finding out that you called him instead of me?”
He moved all the way, half lifting me in his arms and moving me to the wall, pressing me against it.
He continued moving his hands over me.
“I had to go to his home, because that’s where he had taken you. To another man’s place? I had to ask permission to come and talk to you. You think I enjoyed that?” His hand smoothed down, sliding between my legs, and I felt him at my entrance. He circled me, teasing. “I’d come to terms with how I was beginning to care for you and then bam, I’m asking another man to talk to my woman?”
My heart spiked. He had—his finger slid inside of me, grinding deep. All the way.
I gasped, my head swimming, as a second finger thrust in. He pulled them out, sliding back in, and he kept thrusting, his mouth nipping at my ear.
“You have an issue, you wait and discuss it with me. You don’t bolt. Ever. They could’ve taken you.” His whole body was vibrating on those words. “You think I’m still the guy who wants to use you as bait? We’re past that. Long past. They shot at you. Another man had a gun to your head. How many fucking times do you need to get that you don’t leave my side? Everything changed the second a gun was put to your head. Everything did. You. Me. Us. This.” He wrapped a firm arm around my stomach and hoisted me in the air, kicking my legs apart. His fingers pulled out, and his dick surged inside.
I let out a sound at the fullness of him, but then he was moving, and this man was made to fuck me. My soul was purring. In and out. He was riding me, moving up, his hand gripping my thigh, holding me in place so he could pound into me.
He grated against my ear, “I asked if you wanted me to let you go, because for a moment tonight, I thought maybe it would be better for you. Safer for you. I am who I am. I am what I do. Make no mistake, I am the bad guy.” He kept thrusting inside of me, slowing as he grated out, “And I asked you if you wanted to be free, and the look on your face—” He shuddered behind me. “I can’t do it. I can’t let you go. You’ve become the reason. You’re no longer the woman I’m going to use to end this war. You’re the reason for this war because if anyone hurts you, touches you, I’ll kill them. Are you hearing me? All of them.
“I am sick of hearing that another gun was pointed at you, shot at you, or getting calls from another man that you went to instead of me. You only wanted sex between us? Too fucking bad.” His mouth closed over my ear, his teeth grazing my lobe as he shoved so far up, he could’ve been in my stomach. “Mine, Molly. Do you know what that means?”
