Tagged & Ashed (The Sterling Shore Series #2) (16 page)

I nod, and then I head through the doors quickly before I fall apart.  As it all catches up to me, I slide down the wall and sob silently in the dark.

***

Tag

Staring down at Trip, I think of all the times I’ve almost begged Ash to be with me.  Now, I want it even more.  I want to raise her son like he’s my own, and I want to love her.  I still don’t know if I’m capable, but considering I’ve spent almost a year without fucking anyone but her, I’m pretty sure I’m through with my days of womanizing.

I can’t even think of another woman like that, and that can only mean I’m better than my dad.  Maybe I can be that guy she needs after all.

She walks out, and I can tell she’s been crying.  I’m sure the day has overwhelmed her.  Being shot at has to be pretty fucking terrifying.  When I find this bastard, he’ll pray I shoot him.  The things I plan to do might send me to prison for a while.

“You hungry?” I ask, and she shakes her head.

I frown as I stare at her body withering away.

"You need to eat," I mutter before glancing toward the kitchen.  “Betty,” I call, and the short, black-haired lady bobs in quickly with a ready-to-please smile.  “Will you get Ms. Branderwood something to eat, please?”

She nods vehemently, and then she disappears back into the kitchen.  I pick up the remote beside me while cradling Trip a little closer to my body, and I turn on all the lights of the house to cast a better glow.

“Better?” I ask as Ash sits down in the chair across from me.

“Yeah.”

“He can sleep in my room, if you want.  I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

Her eyes water more, and I want to ask her to sleep in my room, too.  I’d love to feel her body wrapped around mine, but it wouldn’t be right to do to her right now.  She’s too vulnerable.

“That’s okay.  He sleeps pretty good, so he can just stay with me.”

“Can I ask where his father is and why he isn’t here checking on his son after a shot that could have killed either of you?”

She takes a deep breath, as though she’s trying not to fall apart.  I shouldn’t be pressing this, but I have to.  That asshole should show some fucking concern for his son and the mother of his son.

“He’s… it’s just… well, he isn’t part of Trip’s life.  He’s sort of… well, we didn’t both have to change the way we lived for one mistake.  I love Trip.  To me, he’s not a mistake anymore.  Now he’s real.  Now he’s the best thing in my life, but his dad, well, his dad isn’t ready to be a dad - his words, not mine.”

“You think he’s ready to be a dad?” I ask curiously.

It almost feels like she cares about this son of a bitch, and it hurts like hell.

“I think he would be an incredible father, but until he’s ready, this is the best thing for Trip and for me.”

Taking a deep breath, I reposition the sleeping child in my arms.  His lips bubble again, and I can’t help but smile.  I feel so close to this little one, and I’m sure it’s because of what I feel for his mother.

“Do you miss his dad?” I ask, my heart stinging as the suspense fills the room.

Her eyes stare unwavering into mine.

“Very much.  He doesn’t do relationships though, and honestly, I don't think he ever will.  Like I said, this is the best thing for both of us.”

Apparently I’m not the only jerk she involved herself with.  That day she asked for dinner, I should have said yes.  All of this would have gone differently if I had just said yes.  Now she’s hung up on someone else.

I’ll just have to remind her what she felt for me.

Chapter Ten

Sexual Tension at Home

Ashiara

Having to watch Tag feeding Trip is making me want to tell him he’s his son more and more.  We’ve been here for three weeks, and in that time, Tag has changed diapers, made bottles, got up in the middle of the night to take care of the fussy spells, and rocked him to sleep numerous times.

He deserves to know he’s his dad, and I’m sick of hiding the truth.  Whether he knows it or not, he’d be a great father - he already is.

“I have to go to work for a few hours.  I have a lot of meetings today.  You need anything while I’m out?”

You.  Just you.  That’s all I can fucking think about.

“No.  I’m fine,” I lie while accidentally staring at his crotch area.

He slips Trip into my arms, and I lean back, trying to compose myself.

“You want anything special for dinner tonight?”

You!  Just you!

“I’m easy,” I roll out with some innuendo.

He smirks, but he doesn’t push the matter.

“What about supplies?  Do you need anything… um… feminine?”

I don’t need anything feminine.  I need something masculine - you!

“No,” I laugh.  “I’ve got everything I need, and if I didn’t, I’d let a girl take care of that, not you.”

“Why not me?” he asks with a near pout.

“Because you get squeamish just using the word
feminine.
  I wouldn’t dare ask you to pick up something like that,” I say through my chuckles while standing up.

He follows behind me, and I look over my shoulder to see him running a hand through his hair.

“You should be able to ask me for anything.  I don’t want you feeling like you can’t”

Fine, then I’ll take… YOU!

“Why is this bothering you?” I tease.  “I tell you what, the next time I need something
feminine,
I’ll be sure to let you know.”

He rolls his eyes while letting a grin free, and he tugs at my side while pulling me to him so he can kiss the top of Trip’s head.

My heart stops.  Seeing him show his son affection without knowing he’s his son is enough to make me almost fall apart.  I definitely have to tell him.

“I want to talk to you about something later,” he murmurs softly.

“I have something to talk to you about, too,” I almost whisper as our eyes fall prey to each other’s.

Can I do this?  Can I tell him?

“I need to do some work, too,” I utter in an attempt to break the stare down.

He follows behind me, and my stomach tightens in knots.  I’ve fought the urge to throw myself at him since I got here.

“Trip’s nameless father, does he at least offer financial support?” he asks, a little seriousness and a touch of anger in his tone.

“No, but not because he wouldn’t.  I’ve never asked for anything.  I make enough to get by just fine.  I don’t need anything from him.”

***

Tag

He should be giving her money.  What asshole has a kid and doesn’t offer at least some payment to help raise him in his absence?

“You know, Kinset still needs a web design, if you’re interested.  It was postponed due to some other projects, but we're getting back to it now.  The money would be really, really good.”

She smiles lightly while laying Trip down in his crib.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?  Find an excellent web designer for my latest company?” I ask innocently.

“I’ve seen your various websites for your various companies.  It’s obvious you know some very talented designers.  I don’t need a handout.  I feel bad enough staying here.”

She feels bad about staying here?

“You don’t like it here?” I ask, my tone sounding more wounded than I meant for it to.

“That’s not what I meant.  So far, you’ve paid for all the groceries, and you’ve even bought stuff for Trip and me.  You haven’t let me give you any money for our staying here, and I prefer to pay my way.”

I take a step toward her, my heart beating furiously in my chest as I brush her hair from her shoulder.

“I’m not taking your money.  You’re my guest.  Believe it or not, I actually know how to be a gentleman.  Besides, you need to worry about other things.  Now, about the Kinset account, will you take it - make me an excellent website?”

Her hands slide up to run through her hair as she stares at me, and her bottom lip slides between her teeth. 

“Yeah.”

“Great,” I murmur with a smile.  “I’ll give you the details when I get back home.  In the meantime, feel free to enjoy yourself.  I want you comfortable here.  I’ll feel bad if you feel bad.”

She smiles while releasing her hair, and I grin when I see a little tattoo sneaking out from her waist as she bends over.

“What the hell is this?” I chuckle out while raising her shirt up to see it better.

She jerks it down, her cheeks blushing, and then she shakes her head.

“I got drunk one night after the wedding, and well… I got a tattoo.”

“Let me see it,” I murmur while trying to move her hand out of my way.

She swats at me while giggling, and I start chasing her as she rushes by me.

“Please stop,” she laughs when I catch her.

My arms slide around her waist as I hold her still, and she struggles uselessly against my clutches.

“I’ll stop when I see it, and I
will
see it.”

She squeals a little as I pick her up, and she laughs harder as she bucks in my arms.

“You’re not getting free until I see it,” I taunt, my grin burning because it’s so big.

“Please don’t.  It’s so stupid.”

My cock hurts it’s so hard right now.  I haven’t had sex in so long, and this past week has been brutal.  Now I’m holding her, and I want to feel her from the inside so badly it’s painful.

I smile
mischievously as I drop her to my bed, and then I hold both of her hands with my one as I flip her over and pull her shirt up.

She bucks violently while squealing and laughing, and I straddle her ass to hold her still enough for me to see.  When she bucks again, her ass presses against my erect cock, and my free hand grabs her hip reflexively, accidentally tugging her ass to my center again.

Her breaths stop, her laughter ceases, and then I feel her ass arch as she intentionally presses it against my cock once more.

Keeping her hands held above her head, my free hand slides up her curved ass and feels all of its perfection.  She lets out a moan, and that’s my undoing.

I no longer care about the tattoo.  I feel her desire for me as her hips grind against me as my hand releases hers to fully grip her hips.

I run my fingers along her denim to her heated center, and she moans again, forcing me to lose my mind for a second as I flip her over to face me.

I stare into those stormy blue eyes, and a tear falls free from her grasp as she stares up at me.

“Please tell me I can touch you,” I murmur softly, as my hand slides up her leg and stops just before I reach the button to her jeans.

“Please tell me you want to,” she utters, and with that, I’m lost.

My lips crush hers as I fall between her legs, and then I pull back to rip her jeans off.  She gasps as my hand rubs across her sex, and then her breath leaves as my finger slips through the side of her underwear and finds her hot, wet haven.

***

Ashiara

Is this happening?  I’ve dreamt about this for months.  Is it real now?  Am I just delirious?

His tongue daringly plays with mine as his hard erection begs to be freed from his pants.  I rub my hand over the fabric, feeling him as he moans into my mouth.

“I have to have you,” he breathes.

“Then take me,” I mutter back, my heart pounding so hard I’m worried it’s trying to escape.

I want him.  I want this torturous game of look-but-don’t-touch to end.

I can be like this.  I can handle being his without a commitment.  I’ll be his anytime he wants me, and I’ll love him silently when he moves on.

His lips slide down my stomach to the top of my underwear, and then his teeth scrape over me as he peels away the lace with them.

My breaths instantly become pants, and his lips find that spot that has belonged to him since the day I met him.  His daring tongue flicks against me, and then the worst possible spoiler blares from the monitor beside his bed.

Trip cries loudly, and we both leap up.  I’m left clambering around for my pants as Tag rushes out to go collect the little interrupter.

Once I’m zipped up, I rush in to see Tag smiling as he holds Trip in his arms, cooing him out of his fit.  I smile as I lean against the doorframe and watch the father holding his son.

“I think it’s time for a diaper, and unfortunately, I have to get to my meetings.  Please tell me we can finish this later,” he strains out with anguish.

I take a deep, steadying breath as I nod.

“Definitely later.”

He
smiles as he comes over to me, and his hand wraps around my waist as he pulls my lips to his.

“I think my conversation might go a little better now,” he murmurs against my lips.

He puts Trip in my arms, and then he kisses my smiling lips again before walking away to pick up his tie from the chair.

I watch as he waves, and I force a smile.  I don’t know what he plans to say, but I hope he listens to what I have to say without freaking out or hating me.