Chapter 18 #2
I’d make her coffee and some toast, then call Dave to come pick her up, seeing as Maca seemed to have decided that Milo was for he and my sister’s own personal use. So, fuck them too. They could all go fuck themselves.
“Why’ve you been so nice to me?”
I jumped at the sound of Ashley’s voice as she leaned against the doorway, watching me pour hot water from the kettle into the coffee mugs I’d set out.
Yeah, me. I was making a girl coffee after a night of not even getting a shag, or a blowie, or even a hand job. You couldn’t make this shit up. Un-fucking-believable!
“What?” My response came out a little harsher than I intended, and I hated that she flinched at my tone. She was still wearing my T-shirt and boxers, and had her hair up in what looked like a birds nest on top of her head. It was the sexiest fucking birds nest I’d ever seen.
I slid my hands into the pockets of my joggers and held onto my hardening dick so that she couldn’t see it. “Ew, are you playing with your dick through your pocket?”
This girl seriously had no filter.
I blushed. I actually felt my cheeks burn as she stood there with a sexy as fuck smirk on her face. I’m Marley Layton. I don’t fucking blush.
Ever.
“What? No. I was, I just … my dick fucking likes you, all right. It has a mind of its own when you’re around,” I admitted while standing there, glowing like the Ready Brek kid.
“And playing with it helps?” she asked.
“I’m not playing with my fucking dick. I was trying to hold it down so that you wouldn’t see that I’ve got a big fat boner going on.”
I watched as she folded her arms across her chest.
Her perfect, perfect tits moved under my T-shirt and my disobedient dick twitched in my hand. I closed my eyes for a few seconds and tried not to think about how they looked when I showered her earlier this morning.
I failed. They were all I could picture.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she said quietly.
I opened my eyes and watched as she moved toward and then past me. She went to the fridge and pulled out the milk.
“What question?” I asked as she put the milk down on the work top and started opening cupboard doors. “What are you looking for?”
“The sugar,” she replied in a tone that implied I should know that.
“Here.” I opened the cupboard above the kettle and got it down for her.
“Tupperware? Oh, Rock Star, that bit of info would do your bad boy reputation no good if it were to get out. Did you go to a party yourself to buy it?” she asked while putting two heaped spoonful’s of the golden granules into her cup, offering one up to me.
“One, please, and no, I didn’t go to a Tupper-fucking-ware party. My mum came around and organised everything in here and brought us cutlery, plates, cups, and other shit. Anything else you wanna have a dig at me about?”
She stared down at our coffees as she stirred each one in turn.
“You gonna answer my question, or just keep avoiding it?” she asked without looking back up at me.
“What was the question?” I know full well what the question was, but I didn’t have an answer that I was willing to admit to just yet―not to her or myself.
“Why’ve you been so nice to me―looked after me?” She turned and met my gaze head on.
“Because I like you, a lot.” I didn’t hesitate to answer, yet I couldn’t believe I just said that. I was adamant that I was gonna say nothing, and then I just blurted it out.
This girl.
This fucking girl was tying me up in knots.
Me. This didn’t happen to me.
“You don’t even know me,” she said bluntly with a defiant edge to her tone.
“We just spent a night together. I cleaned up your puke. I think I know you well enough.”
“And despite that, you still reckon you like me?”
“No, Ashley.” I didn’t miss the fact that she flinched again, just slightly before I got a chance to continue. A little zing of pain hit my heart, like an electric shock, at the thought that I might’ve hurt her feelings.
“I don’t reckon I like you. I know that I do. Despite the puke in my car, in my bathroom, and on my clothes. Despite you taking the piss out of my endless hard-on and my Tupper-fucking-ware, I like you. Fuck knows why, but I do and so does my dick.”
Her response? She dragged her teeth backwards and forwards over her bottom lip and I almost came in my pants like a thirteen-year-old boy, right there in my kitchen.
“I’m still not shagging you.” Was her only reply before taking a sip of her coffee, then smiling at me sweetly.
“Yeah, I heard you the first time, and all the other times you’ve told me,” I sighed out, trying to sound defeated, hoping to garner some sympathy from her.
“What is it exactly you’ve got against me?
” I questioned. I was actually curious now.
I’d turned women down, occasionally. Well, no, that was a lie.
I nearly always said yes, unless they were grabby.
I don’t like grabby, aggressive women. I’ve always worried they might go a bit psycho on me, but anyway, this?
Having a girl blatantly knock me back? That was new ground for me, and I was a little unsure how to approach the situation.
On the one hand, I liked her, and I would like very much to sink my dick balls deep inside her.
Just her mouth, would in fact, do at this point.
But, on the other hand, I loved that she wasn’t intimidated by who I was and didn’t appear to be interested in shagging me just for the bragging rights.
She didn’t seem like she was expecting something permanent from me, convincing herself that she might be ‘the one’ to tame me and make me settle down.
She seemed too independent for that shit.
“I don’t have anything against you. I just have a little bit more respect for myself than to shag someone on the night that I meet them, especially when they happen to be my boss’ son.”
I heard her belly rumble as she finished talking and moved to get some eggs out of the fridge.
I was actually about to make this girl some breakfast. I shook my head at the prospect and felt like I should call Maca or my brothers to have them explain my actions because I had no clue what was going on with me.
“So, if you didn’t work for my mum and sister, I might have been in with a chance?” I asked.
“I don’t shag on the first night. Unfortunately for you, the fact that I work for your mum and sister means that I won’t shag you on any night.”
“What if I took you out tonight? Or next week? Do you shag on the second or third night?” I said jokingly.
Totally not joking.
Once again, something passed across her face and eyes.
“Marley,” she said my name as though she was letting out a long breath or a sigh, and I felt all girly as my insides jumped about and my balls felt all tingly, in a most ungirly way.
“Ashley,” I said in the same manner and a small smile played at the corner of her mouth.
“You should do that more often,” I told her while reaching into the drawer for a frying pan.
“Say your name?”
“Saying my name is good, but you smiling is even better.”
Fuck, I was even making myself cringe. Could I have sounded any more wankerish?
She smiled again and my charm sank to new depths. “See? That was beautiful.”
“You’re so full of shit.”
I shook my head in frustration. I’m not winning with my words, so let’s see what I could do with my culinary skills. “You want some breakfast?”
“You don’t want me to leave?” she asked with raised eyebrows, obviously surprised that I wanted her to stay.
I was bloody surprised I wanted her stay, but I did.
She was hungry and that made me want to feed her.
I didn’t like the idea of her being hungry; hated it, in fact.
Just like last night, I needed to look after her.
I had no idea what any of it meant, I just knew that I was about to cook this girl breakfast for two reasons.
One, so she’d no longer be hungry, and two, so that she’d stay a bit longer.
“If I wanted you to leave, I wouldn’t be offering to cook you breakfast. I’m not a bullshitter, Ashley. I tend to say what I mean.”
“Yeah, I tend to get into trouble for that,” she said quietly while staring at her toes―her cute toes with purple nail varnish on them.
My eyes travelled from her toes and up her legs, from her legs to her body, that happened to be hidden away under my T-shirt.
Eventually, my eyes hit her face and I was surprised to see her watching me.
I abandoned the frying pan and stepped right into her space.
She smelled of my shampoo and body wash.
Thoughts of her naked as I washed her invaded every single space in my head and I took her face into my hands.
“You,” I let out a long breathe. “You are so fucking gorgeous.”
Her eyes instantly filled with tears.
What the fuck?
She shook her head slightly. “Don’t, Marley. Please don’t,” she whispered, attempting to look down, but I gripped her face tighter, refusing to let her break eye contact with me.
“Don’t what? What did I do?” I asked her, feeling totally confused.
“Don’t say shit like that to me. Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot.
I know I don’t talk nice like your mum and your sister.
I know that I sound common and I know what people say about my family.
” She swallowed and her jaw trembled. The sight of her struggling actually caused a physical pain in my chest.
“Ash, sweetheart, I seriously―”