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Ashton’s armis a crescent around me, and I stroke his skin lightly, having woken up long before him. Replaying the events of the past twenty-four hours, the cavewoman in me is elated. Watching Ashton beat Eric was cathartic. I’ve never told Eric just how much he hurt me. I didn’t want him to see my weakness, because the one time I did, he proved to me what a bad idea it was. So all I did was walk away and tell him never to come back again.
It was a loose end. And Ashton tied that shit up in a knot so compact it will never unfurl again. Finally,it’s the end of the Eric saga. So yes, the feral, illogical, and let’s face it, slightly immature young woman inside me is celebrating the payback. Eric’s face looked like my heart did so many times in our relationship.
But… Ashton… something is different. He was quiet last night. He’s never been a man who needs to assert his words, not like Logan, not like me, but the quiet moments weren’t comfortable yesterday like they usually are.
My big spoon stirs behind me, and his morning wood pokes me in the butt. A kiss lands on my back before his groggy, croaky low voice wafts in my ear. “You’re up before me.”
“Yeah.”
“What time is it?”
“Seven-thirty.”
“Shit,” he groans.
“I was just about to wake you. But you were so peaceful.”
Beep. Beep. Beep.Ashton’s phone alarm goes off. He reaches over to the side table behind him, and cold air rushes between us. He turns off the alarm, rolls back into our groove in the mattress, and warms me back up again.
“I don’t want to leave.” He inhales my hair and holds me affectionately but doesn’t make another move.
I’m pretty sure one of two things is supposed to happen now. Either he’s supposed to stick that wood in for a quickie or we should have a little talk before he heads off, because the man has to be back on the road in thirty minutes. I definitely want to bang him, but Ashton is… still different. Just like he was last night.
Because normally by now, I’d be stuffed with nine inches, so he must have something on his mind, too.
Something is wrong. Is it me? Is he hurting from thefight? Sometimes, when my brothers were sick or had an injury from sports, they’d go quiet.
“How is your body feeling after that fight?”
“I’m fine. He only got me once on the side, so I hardly felt it.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. It was stupid.” He wrestles me in his arms. “But worth it.”
I smile, but it’s half-hearted. A woman’s gut is her greatest gift and her worst torture.
Ashton gets out of bed, and his perfect glutes head toward my en suite bathroom. “I wish I didn’t have to go.”
I sit up and pull the duvet up over me. “Me, too…”
He almost gets the door closed before I blurt. “Ashton, get your ass back here.”
He peeks out of a crack in the door, his eyebrows furrowed, but for the first time since the incident on the ice, he has a little smile on his face. “Excuse me? Are you bossing me around?”
I pat the bed beside me, and he comes over, propping himself up on his elbow beside me. I try to stay focused, but his big dick, softer, is sprawled out like a very tempting snake. Still, I don’t want him inside me nearly as much as I want to be inside that head of his right now. I slide my hand down his long, strong body from his shoulder down his arm and rest it on his hip.
“I feel like you have something to say but you aren’t saying it.”
He swipes his fingers over his mouth, staring at the ceiling, thinking, so obvious that I hit the nail on the head. He doesn’t answer, just keeps stroking his boyish lip in thought.
“It’s going to kill me thinking about this all day. Did I do something wrong?”
“No, Joey… never. You’re perfect as always.”
“So why no morning nookie or even snuggle convo? Please don’t say you’re just tired because I won’t believe you.”
He takes some of my hair between his fingers and twirls it. “There isn’t time to unpack it all right now.”
