Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
Caleb
Ashley is inside of her house, collecting things to spend the night when I get the phone call from Chicago. I’m loath to take my eyes off her silhouette where it moves in the bedroom she’s supposed to share with that bastard, but I locate my phone in the console of my truck, answering with urgency when I see the name.
“What do you have for me?”
A few minutes later, I hang up just in time for Ashley to walk out of the house, her overnight bag in hand. I almost break my neck getting out of the truck to carry it for her, as it should be. I don’t care if she’s only walking twenty yards, I transport her bag in one hand and hold her hand in the other, opening the passenger door and making sure she’s buckled in and cozy before I close it.
This woman is one in a billion.
Her man better damn well act like it.
And after that phone call?
Her man is exactly what I’m going to be. Officially.
You have no idea what’s waiting for you at home, Waylon.
Hint: it ain’t going to be your wife.
As far as I’m concerned, Ashley is already my wife. I can’t even glance at her from the driver’s side without my heart slamming against my jugular. She’s a phenomenon. An explosion of characteristics, some of which she’s still discovering herself. She’s tough, brave, funny, beautiful, sweet, mean, a little kinky—
Still got a fire smoldering in my belly after the shit she said to me. Jesus.
The flames are never going to extinguish around her, because she fans them simply by smiling. By shifting that gorgeous backside in her seat. Blinking. Breathing. Existing. Just when I think this obsession can’t run any deeper, another cavern opens up inside of me and a deeper kind of crazy floods in.
“Could I write for a little while when we get to your place?” she says, looking over at me, the new sparkle in her eyes nearly stealing my concentration. “I feel…inspired. Like I could design an entirely new fictional world.” Her laughter is totally unfettered. Musical and free. “Anything seems possible.”
“You don’t have to ask me for permission, angel,” I say, stopping at a red light. “If you want to write, write.”
I’m not prepared for Ashley to launch herself across the truck, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I’m so happy.”
Can she feel my heart going eight hundred miles an hour? I press a hard kiss to her temple, then her mouth. “This is how it’s going to stay,” I promise gruffly, winding our tongues together until there’s a polite tap of the horn behind us. “Just like this.”
She melts back into her seat, a furrow slowly forming between her brows. “How, Caleb? He’s going to be back tomorrow. I can’t just…stay with you, as much as I want that. He still holds the cards when it comes to my family. The farm.”
I keep my eyes on the road. “Do you trust me, Ash—”
“Yes,” she says, no hesitation.
“Thank you,” I say, reaching over to massage her upper thigh. “If he wants to take you away from me, he better bring a fucking army. It’s not happening.” I ride my hand higher and grip her cunt, allowing possessiveness to spread like wildfire inside of me. “He’ll never have you.” Red mists my vision. “And he’ll never have this.”
“No.” She opens her thighs to accommodate more of my hand. “Only you.”
I mold her pussy roughly. “Because you chose to give it to me.”
“Yes,” she whimpers.
One more squeeze, then I pat her mound gently. “Good girl.”
Ashley
The next day, I stand in front of the full-length mirror, and I barely recognize myself.
My eyes are no longer haunted, surrounded by anxious white lines.
My hair is down, wavy and a little messy, because Caleb can’t stop himself from kissing me every time we pass each other in the house or in the office. He sinks those skillful fingers into my hair and robs me of reason, my feet swept clean off the ground.
I’m wearing a flowing, strapless periwinkle dress with a smock top that hugs my breasts. I’m barefoot. My expression is clear and I have a sense of fulfilment that boggles the mind, considering it only took three days to achieve it.
What could I feel in a month?
A year?
One thing I know for sure is I’ll still love Caleb a year from now.
A millennium from now.
I’ll still trust him.
Which is why I turn now and walk through the house slowly, toward his office where my husband has freshly arrived. Only a moment ago, his truck pulled into the lane outside the office and he climbed out, spitting carelessly into the grass and scratched his crotch as I watched from Caleb’s bedroom window.
What a donkey.
Outside Caleb’s office now, I pause with my hand on the doorknob to examine what I’m feeling. Not fear. Not dread. Only…triumph.
With that, I push the door open and walk into the office like I own the place, stopping beside Caleb where he leans against his desk, spine straight and proud, watching Waylon without blinking, a muscle ticking in his cheek. I brush my knuckle against the outside of Caleb’s thigh, just to have a connection, because not touching him is impossible, and I look my tormentor—my family’s tormentor—right in the eye.
“Hello, Waylon.”
His gaze widens almost comically, taking in my transformation. He gawks at my unbound hair, the healthy color in my face, my permanently swollen mouth, my uncharacteristic attire, the skin I now refuse to hide, if only so Caleb can touch it.
“Ashley?” he sputters, his attention flying to Caleb. “I barely recognize you.”
“I do,” I say. “I finally recognize the woman looking back at me in the mirror.”
“Take a good look, Waylon.” Without taking his eyes off my husband, Caleb holds out his hand and I take it without hesitation, letting him guide me in front of him. Less than five feet away from Waylon, Caleb pulls me back into his warmth, urging me up onto my toes so my backside finds the groove of his lap, the pads of his middle fingers slowly dragging up the outsides of my arms, making me shiver hotly. “This is what a woman looks like when she’s been given her power back. When she’s been given safety and allowed to flourish on her own terms. This is what a woman looks like when she’s happy and satisfied. Fulfilled inside and out.”
Waylon gulps. “Look, I thought about this while I was gone and…” He waves a hand around. “I don’t want to know how you fixed the girl, I just want to pick her up and take her home, so I can get to the benefiting part.”
Caleb’s chest tenses against my back. “Oh, is that what you’d like to do?”
“Yup,” Waylon stands.
“Sit the fuck down,” Caleb growls.
Waylon sits like a scolded child, red blanketing his face.
It’s everything I can do not to turn and kiss Caleb, the way my body yearns for me to do every moment of the day now. Ceaselessly.
“You think only of how you’ll benefit,” Caleb says, and I can tell he’s barely holding on to his temper. “What about her?” He gently spears his fingers into my hair and takes hold, tilting my head to the right and perching his open mouth on the curve of my neck, shooting lustful sparks every which way in my tummy. “I spent three days doing exhaustive research on this sweet angel’s needs. You don’t want to know my findings?”
“N-n-no. Like I said—”
“I heard what you said,” Caleb enunciates. “You’re going to listen anyway. This session is only getting started.”
I’m not startled when Caleb picks me up and carries me over to the other side of his desk, turns me around to face him—away from Waylon—planting me on the hard, cool wood of the furniture. Three days ago, I never would have turned my back on Waylon for fear of him striking or grabbing me before I could evade him, but with Caleb’s hard body crowding into the V of my thighs, I feel nothing but breathless excitement.
A positivity that he’s watching my back.
A giddy kind of anticipation that blooms when he slides the hem of my dress over my knees, smoothing the cotton all the way to my hips, exposing my naked sex to him. Only him, not Waylon. My husband’s point of view is my back, my spread thighs…and our therapists hands slipping out of view to clutch my bottom, jerking me to the very edge of the desk and up against his lap, causing a sob of his name to erupt from my mouth.
This situation might seem immoral and wrong to some people.
To me, it’s closure.
“She loves to be kissed, your wife.” One hand stays on my backside, the other tosses his necktie over one shoulder to get it out of the way, then cradles the back of my neck, his thumb erasing any remaining tension with sure, thorough strokes. “She’s a dreamer, hence her love of writing. She needs time to anticipate, to think about what’s going to happen. To let the moment build and come to life. She needs time to feel her body’s response. And my God…” He leans back slightly to visibly marvel at the juncture of my thighs. “She responds like such a good girl.”
I’ve started to breathe harder and harder throughout Caleb’s speech, need sweeping deeper, further into my loins. Enough to make me quake openly on the desk in front of my lover, my flesh undoubtedly soaked under his watchful eye, my nerve endings on high alert. All of me on high alert.
Any part of me that might have thought this moment would be scary or feel incorrect has been silenced. If the man in front of me is the wrong thing and Waylon is right, the world itself is backwards.
The hell with some vows I was forced to recite.
Caleb leans down, momentarily taking his cautious attention off Waylon, his mouth settling over mine, his lids drifting down as if drugged while we kiss, my lips opening dutifully, gratefully, thrills racing through my blood as Caleb’s mouth fucks mine, my core squeezing and releasing in perfect rhythm with his tongue, my legs parting further, the mewls in my throat music in an otherwise silent room.
“I’ve had enough of this,” Waylon shouts.
There’s a dominant glint in Caleb’s eye when he reluctantly breaks the kiss, his hands finding my thighs, thumbs gliding up along the soft inner flesh. “She hasn’t, though, Waylon. She hasn’t had enough.” He kisses my forehead. “I haven’t fucked you yet this morning, have I, angel? Kissed you until you were restless and stopped, so you would be nice and ready for Daddy when it was time. Now is the time.”
The couch creaks sharply behind me. “What the hell did you call yourself?”
I look back over my shoulder. “He called himself the name I gave him.” I don’t look away. My eye contact is clear and unflinching, even when I hear Caleb’s zipper come down, the jostling of his belt. I watch in satisfaction as the color drains from Waylon’s face, leaving him ashen. I allow him to watch my eyes go molten when the smooth tip of Caleb’s shaft drags through my moist sex. “Daddy,” I whisper.
Caleb tucks himself home and drives deep, snarling a curse as our hips mash together. “Fuck.” He slams a fist on the table, his hips jolting forward to pin me. Grind. “I never get used to how goddamn tight your wife is.”
“Fuck you,” Waylon seethes.
Caleb ignores the outburst, his lower body flexing, reversing and plunging deep again with a satisfied grunt. “Normally, I’d lick her little pussy first, but the sounds she makes when I give her head are for my ears alone.” He shakes his head, the pattern of his thrusts accelerating, the desk groaning underneath me. “You missed out, Waylon. You should be jealous as fuck.”
There’s a loud creak and I sense Waylon has surged to his feet. “What the hell do you mean ‘for your ears alone’? And I missed out? I’m her husband!”
“Oh, didn’t I mention?” Caleb grits through his teeth, his body on top of mine now, my back arched over the desk while he pounds me, no mercy, exactly the way I’ve discovered I like it. Hard, relentless and passionate. No space to think, just slake the desire, become one with my body and my needs. “I’m not giving her back,” Caleb finishes.
“ What? ” Waylon shouts.
“Big mistake letting me anywhere near this angel.” He licks up the entire right side of my face, looking my husband in eye as his balls rap loudly off the underside of my bottom. Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap. “Only a man who’d never experienced Ashley could think it’s possible to give her up.”
Waylon is wheezing, stomping his feet. “Oh, she’s going to come home today and give me the same treatment she’s giving you right now. Mark my words. Or I’ll put her family out on the street.”
“First of all…” Caleb says thickly, beginning to pant, sweat dotting his upper lip. “You haven’t been paying attention. She’s only giving me this treatment because I treated her right first, you spineless coward. That’s how it’s fucking done.”
“Yes,” I breathe, well aware that I’m looking at him with pure hero worship.
That’s what he is. A hero. A real man.
“Does that feel good, little girl?” Caleb asks, going for broke now, his breath shallow.
“It feels so good,” I gasp. “So good.”
And I know him like the back of my hand and I know he’s getting close to climaxing. His blue eyes are glassy, his shaft barely fitting now, it’s so heavy and swollen. He’s going to come inside of me, right there is front of my husband. The darkest, most secret urges I’ve discovered over the last few days are running loose inside of me and I’m rolling my hips forward, getting filled harder for my efforts, my whimpers getting louder, out of my control. So good. It feels so right and so good.
Look at me. Look how I’ve harnessed my free will.
Witness how you can’t hold me back anymore .
“Second of all…” Caleb begins, trailing off, his jaw slackening, thanks to me getting close to orgasm too, my inner walls beginning to throb and tighten around him, my back arching like a wire is being bent inside my spine, thighs starting to tremble. “Hold on,” he says hoarsely, “I’ll explain the rest in a minute, Waylon. I just need to creampie your wife.”
“Fuck you!”
“I’d say ‘fuck you ‘back, but I’m going to make her come, instead. In a way you’ll never be able to do. How about that?” Caleb pounds forward to the hilt and we both lose our grip on the tension, electricity snapping as that now familiar painful relief ebbs and flows along with the fluids from our bodies, our sexes locked together in an unholy spasm while I cry out, my thigh muscles jumping, Caleb letting loose a string of curses in my ear, his come audibly dripping onto the desk. “Such a Daddy’s girl,” he says into my neck, his tone raw. As raw and perfect as I feel.
Reclaimed by myself and Caleb, by choice.
Renewed.
Understood.
But still not quite at peace.
Not yet, at least.
Caleb
I sense Ashley’s tension rising again as I reluctantly pull out of her and zip up, but I cup her jaw and give her a firm kiss to remind her everything is going to be fine.
Better than fine.
“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Waylon is complaining, pacing in front of the desk.
“Frankly, I can’t believe you did, either,” I say, covering my future wife back up with her dress. Sliding her off the desk and into my arms, holding her while she comes down from her orgasm, swaying her gently, my fingers stroking up and down her beautiful spine. “You should have cherished her like the treasure she is, Waylon. But it’s too late now, isn’t it?”
“Nope.” He smiles with teeth, making me want to deck him right in his weasel face. “She’s legally bound to me.”
“That might be true. For now.” I drop one hand to my upper desk drawer, retrieving the printed paperwork that was emailed to me last night. Paperwork that contains facts I spent the day verifying. “But the only reason she married you was to keep her family’s land.” I pause to make sure he’s paying attention. “And that land was never really yours to hold over their heads, was it, ol’ Waylon?”
He goes still, his left eye ticking. “I’m sorry?”
“You are. But staying on track…” I lean down and kiss Ashley’s cheek, then her sweet lips, knowing she’s still in need of soothing, pampering. Her well-being comes before everything. “Your father mortgaged that land with false information. He got the loan based on a bunch of lies and the bank was very interested in hearing the details.” I flip through the pages, before picking up the whole packet and tossing it at him. “Your father is wanted for fraud in two states. That’s why he put your name on the deed. But again, seeing how the application was a bunch of lies, that land is in the process of returning to its rightful owner. Ashley’s parents. You have no hold over them or my future wife anymore.”
Waylon is shrinking. Growing smaller in front of my very eyes.
Which is saying a lot. He was a tiny man to begin with.
Ashley is looking up at me with burgeoning hope, tears pooling in those beloved green eyes and I can only pray she looks at me like this for the rest of our lives.
“We…we’ll f-fight it.”
“You’ll lose.” I stroke Ashley’s hair, gratified beyond words when she snuggles up against me, wrapping her arms around my waist, crying with happiness. “And that’s only the first set of papers you can expect, Waylon. The next ones will be divorce papers. You’re going to sign them. Fast , motherfucker.” I let him see the painful murder I’m planning, letting the malice deepen in my eyes until he starts to shake like a leaf. “Or I’ll bury you alive on her goddamn land. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” he blurts, turning in a disoriented circle, then bolting for the door. “I…I’ll s-sign them. Whatever you want.”
The door slams a second later, leaving us alone.
Ashley pulls back, her face streaked with tears. “Caleb. Caleb…” She swipes at the moisture, her expression a war between disbelief and joy. “You did it. You…I can’t believe…I’m free. I’m free of him. My family is going to be fine. All because of you.”
“No. I’m not taking credit when you were the brave one who sacrificed yourself to save your family. Who was brave and resolute in the face of violence.” I flatten her to my chest, kissing the crown of her head. “I’m only here to make sure you never have to do either of those things ever again.”
She looks up at me, her beautiful face finally, finally one hundred percent free of worry. “I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you, too, angel,” I say, hoarse.
A twinkle of humor lights up her features. “What was your plan if you didn’t find any fraud or wrongdoing?”
“We were going to be halfway to Europe right now.”
She giggles and it’s a dreamy sound I plan to hear often. As often as possible. “I would have run with you. As fast as I could. I still would.”
I pick her up in my arms and carry her into the house, moaning when her legs slide around my hips like second skin, the top of her dress tugging down, so I can see the ripe slopes of her breasts. “No need to run, Ashley,” I manage, pinning her to the closest wall and claiming her mouth in a kiss that leaves us both shaken. “You’re home.”