Chapter 20 Ashton
ASHTON
Allie’s heavy-lidded eyes blink down at me, her chest heaving.
She’s coming down again. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wasn’t done with her.
As hard and painful as my cock is, straining against these stupid baseball pants, I ignore it.
I’ve become addicted to watching her orgasm, and I can’t seem to stop.
Four times, I’ve made her come on my tongue and fingers.
I told her I’m not interested in denying her. No, the exact opposite. I want to make her fall apart over and over again.
It’s working, though. She’s calmed down since I first carried her in here.
Her anger wasn’t unwarranted. Brittany was making bullshit calls all night, but only when it was Allie on the mound.
What she doesn’t know is that it had nothing to do with her.
No, I’m pretty sure it had everything to do with the fact that I slept with Brittany one drunken night over a year ago, and then turned her down when she asked me on a date.
I could tell she recognized me right away, and then made it her mission for us to lose.
In my defense, I was upfront with her from the beginning.
It was a casual hook-up, and she agreed at the time.
I guess she had a change of heart. Allie doesn’t need to know all that, though.
All she needs to know is that if someone hurts her, I’ll make it better.
“Ashton,” she pants as I part her freshly closed legs for the fifth time. “I can’t.”
“One more,” I tell her gently. “I want you to come on my cock this time.”
She lifts her head, and God, this woman looks like every wet dream I’ve ever had was fed into a computer algorithm and this is the result it spit out.
Her shirt is shoved up to her neck, exposing her breasts, her rose-colored nipples slightly reddened from when I’d pinched and twisted them.
Her tangled hair matches mine, messy and finger-raked.
I let her move her hands from the bench after the first time.
She vacillated between pulling at my hair and her own.
Then there’s her pussy. Pink and swollen and drenched with her arousal.
Her cheeks are flushed crimson and her lips have faint bite marks from where her teeth sank into them.
She looks well and truly fucked, and I haven’t even gotten inside her yet.
“Ashton,” she whines.
“Yeah, baby?”
Shit. Shit.
That just slipped out.
“Do it,” she says.
She didn’t notice.
“Do what?” I ask innocently, mocking her as I slide my pants and underwear down just under my ass.
“You said one more…”
She trails off. “What?” I ask again, and because I suddenly have the confidence of Denzel Washington in Training Day, I add, “What do you need, baby?”
“You,” she says simply. “I need you.”
That’s all it takes for my heart to leap out of my chest, walk over to her, and rest at her feet. Of course, that’s also when it dawns on me that I don’t have a condom. She doesn’t have anything. I carried her in here with nothing but the clothes on her back.
“Allie, trust me, that was the plan, but I don’t—”
“I’m on the pill,” she says quickly. “And I—it’s been a while. Like a while. Other than last night, of course. I’m okay with it if you are.”
“Me too,” I admit. “Other than last night.”
The truth is I haven’t even touched another woman since before that night on the beach after the gala.
“Are you sure?” I check.
“I’m sure.”
I don’t bother taking my pants the rest of the way down, lining myself up with her opening and slowly pressing in, watching as her pussy adjusts to my size.
She lets out a gasp. Doesn’t feel so micro now, does it?
I overheard her conversation in the office bathroom when she first started working at the paper.
It made me laugh, but it also made hope soar in my chest. What if she was saying that not just to embarrass me, but because she didn’t want another woman asking me out?
She also seemed angry about Cara coming to my office this past week.
I push further in and she moans a curse.
As soon as I’m fully seated, I let out a sigh of relief.
Being inside her with nothing between us is euphoric in a way I’ve never experienced.
It makes me both envious and sorry for the man I was seconds ago.
Envious because he will get to experience it for the first time and sorry because he doesn’t know what pure bliss feels like yet.
“Ashton, you have to move,” she pleads.
I start thrusting slowly, every movement making the bench squeak and scrape against the wall.
She whimpers, and I increase my movements, fucking her into the wood panel behind the bench.
It doesn’t take much for me to get close.
I’ve been hard as granite this whole time, watching Allie come over and over again on my hand and face.
Knowing I won’t last much longer, I reach down and rub figure eights on her clit with my thumb in the way I know drives her crazy.
“Fuck, Ash,” she calls out, and I almost come right then from hearing my nickname on her lips.
She called me Ash.
“C’mon, Allie,” I rasp. “Give me one more.”
And for the fifth time tonight, she does just that, tipping her head back as her body tightens and she convulses around me, her pussy gripping my cock like a vise. I follow right after, spilling into her as she continues to spasm around me.
We stay still for a moment, our breathing evening out as we come down. Then I slip out of her and pull up my pants, tucking myself back in. I look down at the mess I’ve made of her and glance around the shed for something to clean her up.
“It’s okay,” she whispers, reading my mind. She looks at the floor and spots her panties bunched up in the corner. She starts to get dressed while I watch in utter amazement. She’s going to walk out of here with my cum dripping out of her. How the hell did I let her walk away last time?
When we’re both somewhat back to normal, I pick up all the tennis balls, place them back in the basket, and put it back on the shelf. Turning back around, I notice an expression on her face I can’t quite read.
“Allie,” I start, but she quiets me with a hand on my face.
“I’m attracted to you, Ashton. Trust me, it pains me to admit it, but it’s the truth.
We’re sexually compatible. There’s no denying that.
” She moves her hand down to her side, flicking a speck of dust from her leggings.
“If this becomes a thing, are you going to be okay with it just being physical?”
There it is. She’s drawing a line in the sand. She’s willing to have a physical relationship with me, but that’s it.
“Yes,” I say. Lie.
“I don’t do relationships.”
“I don’t need a label.” Another lie.
“Are you sure you’re not going to want more because the other day you said—”
“I’m sure.” The lies taste bitter on my tongue, but I swallow them down one by one.
“Just hooking up.”
“Just hooking up,” I echo.
“Okay,” she says as she walks around me to the door of the shed.
“Allie,” I call after her, and she looks back, her eyes doing that questioning thing they do. “It has to be exclusive, though. For as long as we’re doing this. Even if it’s only physical. That’s my only condition.”
She cocks her head to the side, thinking it over. “No sex with other people. I can live with that.”
“No anything with other people. No dating until we decide this—whatever it is—is done.” My heart prickles at the thought, but I want to be specific about what I’m willing to do.
She doesn’t want to be my girlfriend. I can deal with that.
For now. But there’s no way I can watch her go out with other men.
“Fine.”
“And I’m walking you to your car. It’s late and it got dark.”
She goes to argue, but I hold a finger up to her mouth. “Or do I have to remind you how I can control you with just one word?”
She snaps her mouth shut, a faint blush creeping up her cheek. Was that really all I had to do to get her to shut up? A few orgasms? If so, I’ll gladly repeat what we just did every day.
Allie doesn’t say anything, but she also doesn’t push me away while I trail behind her as she walks to her car. The sun is long gone, as we make our way to the parking lot. The field is empty, not a trace of the game that was played hours ago.
We get to her car and that’s when I realize that we didn’t even kiss.
We haven’t since that day in my office before she got sick.
When I pushed her away. When I admitted to the feelings I had months ago.
The feelings I still have, but will shove down deep if it means I get to be with her, even casually.
I want to kiss her, but I won’t. Not now. Not like this.
She throws me a half-smile as she opens her car door. “Goodnight, Rich Boy. Thank you for the—” She pauses. “Thanks for getting me out of my head for a little while.”
“Anytime.” She gets in and I close her door, watching her taillights disappear around the corner through the smoke from her exhaust. I look down and notice the hat I’m still holding. I remembered to grab it before we left the shed, but I forgot to give it back to her.
I run my fingers over the drawing on the front. That’s when it hits me. This woman who throws punches during a recreational softball game while wearing her lucky pizza hat? Yeah, there’s no recovering from her.