Chapter 18 #3
“No, no. Let me finish, Marley. People can think what they’d like to about my family.
Most of it’s true anyway. They’re not good people, and I’m fully aware of that.
I also know that people tar me with the same brush, but I’ll never be like them.
No matter what happens to me, I’ll never stoop to their level.
People can think what they’d like, but here,” she pointed at her head and then her heart, “and in here, I know the truth. Yeah, I like to go out and have a good time. I like a drink and I’ll do the occasional line or smoke a joint, but I’m not a junkie and I’m not a slut. I don’t sleep around.”
She blinked and a lone tear rolled down her pretty little cheek. I knew nothing about her family situation, but I hated that she felt like that, that they’d made her feel like that.
“I’m also not as thick as I sound, and you can tell me that I’m gorgeous till the cows come home, but that won’t get you inside my knickers. I’m not one of your supermodels who can pull a rock star any time she likes. I’m just a shop girl; I’m not in your league.”
I didn’t know what to do or say. I felt panic welling in my chest. I wanted to kiss her so bad―so fucking bad, but I didn’t want her to think that I thought she was easy, or that I was just trying my luck.
My mouth forgets to engage my brain before it starts speaking, and words just start coming out of it.
“Ash, I honestly don’t know anything about your family.
I’ve no idea what their reputation is, and I most certainly would never, not in a million years, judge you on the way you talk.
You’re just a typical Essex bird to me; mouthy, funny, straight to the point, and in your case, sexy as fuck. ” She rolled her eyes, again.
“I’m not bullshitting you, babe, I’ve no need to. Believe what you’d like, but I’m telling you straight up, you are a pretty girl and I would really, really like to kiss you right now.”
I bent my knees slightly so that I could look into her eyes, which were once again cast downward.
“Whatever you may think, Ash, at the end of the day, we’re just you and me; an Essex boy who really wants to kiss an Essex girl.
Just because I do what I do for a living, it doesn’t make me any better than you and I hate, fucking hate you putting yourself down.
You working in a shop is what you do for a living.
Well, me playing in a band is what I do.
They’re just jobs. They don’t make either of us better or worse than the other, and I don’t ever want to hear you say something like that again, you hear me?
” I brushed the tears from her cheeks. I was gonna call Jimmie or my sister later to find out what the fuck had gone on in this girl’s life that caused her to have such low self-esteem, despite the ‘full of confidence’ bullshit and bravado she liked to put on.
I gently kissed the corner of her mouth, then pulled away to gauge her reaction. She slid her arms around my neck, so I slid one of mine around her waist, and one around her neck so that I could hold onto the back of her head. I held her still and moved in to kiss her again.
I placed my mouth gently on hers, barely moving my lips at first. I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips and savoured the combination of coffee, toothpaste and salty tears, which made up the taste of Ashley.
My tongue probed harder and eventually she allowed it access to her mouth.
There was the sound of a groan and I had no idea if it came from me, her, or if it was a joint effort, but it prompted me to slide my hand down to her arse and pull her in tight against me.
My dick was hard and I knew she was able to feel it against her belly.
But I really didn’t give a fuck. I wanted her to know what she did to me.
I needed her to know that I really did think that she was sexy as fuck.
She shocked the shit out of me by lifting her leg and hooking it around my hip. I didn’t hesitate in cupping her arse and lifting her so that she was forced to hook her other leg around me to hold on.
I moved with her wrapped around me and sat her down on the kitchen work top, not breaking our kiss the whole time.
As soon as her bum touched the granite, or marble, or whatever shit it was made from, I slid her forward so that I could continue pressing my dick right between her legs.
I could feel her hot little cunt against the tip of my dick, and didn’t even attempt to stop the “fuck” that slipped out of my mouth against hers.
I moved my hips so that I was rubbing myself against her. The heels of her feet were pressing into my arse cheeks, forcing me harder against her.
“Fuck, Ash. I wanna be inside you. I wanna be inside you so bad, baby.” I spoke without moving my mouth from hers.
“I know, but we can’t. I’m not like that, I don’t do this. I’m not like that, Marley.”
I stopped kissing her and rested my forehead against hers. I didn’t want to pressure her, and I didn’t want to make her feel guilty, so I drew in a few deep breaths.
“I understand, but we need to stop, baby. If I kiss you, then I’m gonna wanna be inside you. You’re too fucking sexy for me not to want you. I’ve got no fucking control around you, Ash.”
I felt her chuckle as I kissed her neck.
“You and me both, Rock Star. You and me both.”
No idea how I managed to do it, but somehow I pried myself from between that little temptresses legs and instead of poking at her eggs with my dick, I scrambled some with a whisk for breakfast, along with toast and more coffee.
By the time we were done and cleaned up, it was after three.
I found her a hoodie and we laid under a blanket, curled up on the sofa, watching videos.
I’d never done this. I’d walked the red carpet with a model, an actress and once, even a princess on my arm, but I’d never laid on the sofa, with a girl’s back pressed into my front and watched a film. If I’d have had any clue as to how good it felt, I would’ve spent most afternoons this way.
We took turns choosing films. Obviously, being the gentleman that I was, I let Ashley choose first and was relieved when she chose Willow and not Beaches out of the choices available. It remained, to this day, ‘our’ film, along with ‘Big,’ and ‘The Land Before Time,’ which we also watched.
Yup, Yup, Yup, we did.
We didn’t talk much. I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box back in those days, but I’d already worked out that Ashley didn’t like to talk about her family, or the fact that she worked for mine, so for the most part, I stayed quiet, just answering any questions she asked me.
Sometime during the evening, my hand had found its way under the T-shirt and hoodie of mine that she wore, and my fingers stroked over her waist and the curve of her hip continuously.
I desperately wanted to move my hand higher and cup hold of her tits, or slide my hand below the waistband of the joggers she wore and feel the heat between her legs.
I’d done a lot of things with a lot of different women in my life, but that, lying on my sofa with her little body pushed against mine and the sensation of her silky skin beneath my fingers was by far one of the most pleasurable moments of my life.
I kissed her neck, which was fast becoming a favourite thing of mine to do to her, loving the way her skin erupted in goose bumps when I did it. I whispered into her ear.
“Please stay here with me tonight?”
She was quiet for a few seconds. I’d felt her breathing halt and then noticed the long breath that she let out.
“No, Marley. I have work in the morning. I need to go home.”
So just after midnight, I packed her off in a taxi. She’d refused point blank to let me drive her home and was too mortified about throwing up in my car last night to let me call Dave, so in the end, I called her a cab.
I gave the driver eighty quid and told him to make sure that he dropped her at her door.
Ash had refused to even give me a phone number to contact her on and told me to just call the shop if I wanted to see her again.
Did I want to see her again?
Yes … No …I had no fucking clue.
My bed smelt of her and I loved it. I held onto the pillow that she’d laid on, but that didn’t help me sleep. Eventually, I watched a porno that I’d picked up in Amsterdam and had a wank into a condom.
It was all about the rock star life for me!
My hand job the night before did nothing to reduce the size of the hard-on I woke up with the following morning. After giving myself another little tug in the shower, I got dressed and drove myself to my brother’s office.
Although Len was still our manager, he no longer worked for the record label.
He’d successfully branched out as a manager and agent for other bands, singers, actors, and models.
He was a shrewd businessman, and had also invested his, mine, and Maca’s money into executively producing a couple of films, and even the albums of a few up-and-coming bands.
It basically meant that we financed the projects and shared in the profits of their success.
So far, Len hadn’t let us down and we had made money on all of our investments.
Jimmie worked alongside Len and they had recently moved into new offices in Canary Wharf, not too far from where Maca and I now lived.
Jim had called yesterday to check that I’d gotten Ashley home safe; to say that she was shocked that Ash was still at my place at seven Sunday night was an understatement, and I actually had to put her on the phone with Jim to prove it.
I tapped my fingers against my legs as I rode up in the lift to speak to my future sister-in-law and tried to think of a way of getting the info that I needed, without Jimmie jumping to conclusions.
The lift opened on the eighth floor and two secretarial looking types stepped in. I pulled the cap I was wearing down a little lower and pushed my sunglasses up my nose.
“Going up?” The redhead in the skin tight skirt asked.