Chapter 16 Ash
Ash
I've been in the guest room for two hours trying to be a functional adult.
My laptop is open on the bed and I've submitted my time-off request for the next week, which my manager will approve because I work part-time at a feed supply warehouse and they barely notice when I'm there, let alone when I'm not.
I haven't missed any shifts since I've only been gone six days, but the schedule for next week had my name on three of them and I need to deal with that before anything else because dealing with small practical things makes me feel like a person who has a life outside this ranch even if that life is getting harder to picture by the hour.
A buzz steals my attention, my face scrunching up when I realize it’s just my phone. It has been buzzing on the nightstand all day. I've been hitting the side button to silence it without looking, which has worked fine while I've been busy getting taken apart by various members of this household.
But now, I'm alone and the laptop is closed and the house is quiet because everyone is at dinner and I told Boone I'd be there in a minute.
My phone is sitting there with several unread messages and I pick it up because apparently six days of being wanted isn't enough to override two years of training.
I should have never fucking picked up my phone.
4:17 PM Hey, we need to talk. Call me back.
4:30 PM I know you're ignoring me. That's really mature, Ash.
6:12 PM You'll come back. You always do.
6:27 PM No one else is going to want you. You know that, right? You're not the kind of person people keep.
The last message was almost an hour ago but now there’s a missed call from Marcus.
It starts to ring in my hand, my ex calling a second time because he’s just so sure I’ll fall in line.
I should decline it. I should turn the phone off and go eat dinner and let Boone fuck me into the bed so I can fall asleep.
Instead I answer, because apparently I'm an idiot.
"Ash." His voice is flat. "Finally."
"Marcus, I don't want to talk to you."
"Where are you?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me. I came home and the apartment was empty. Your stuff is there, but you're not and nobody knows where you went." I hear him shift, the particular quality of his breathing that means he's pacing. "Which is interesting, because you don't have anywhere to go."
I suck in my bottom lip between my teeth, quickly searching for an answer. "I'm staying with a friend."
"You don't have friends, Ash." He says it the way he says everything that's designed to gut me, casually, like he's reading off a grocery list. The problem is that he’s right. I have people I’ll go out for a coffee with, but no one who would let me stay like Boone has.
"You have me. And whatever tantrum you're throwing because of a fight in the car, it's embarrassing. "
"It wasn't a fight. You left me on the side of the road."
"You asked to get out."
"Because you told me to!" A week ago, I would have cleared my throat and apologized. Now, I’m just getting agitated that he keeps trying to fight the reality of what happened.
"See, this is what you do. You rewrite everything so you're the victim.
I gave you a choice and you made it and now you're punishing me and I'm done being patient.
" His voice starts climbing, not shouting yet but building toward it.
I curl into myself a little bit, bracing myself for the next step. "Come home."
"No."
"Come home, Ash."
"No. I don't want to come back. I told you I didn't want this anymore, Marcus, I told you—"
"You don't get to decide that!" He shouts. A tremor runs through my body as I grip the phone a little tighter, panic building in my chest. "We are not over until I say we're over. You don't just disappear and start some new life like the last two years didn't happen. You owe me."
"I don't owe you anything."
"We'll see."
The line goes dead. I sit on the guest bed with my phone in my hands and my heart slamming against my ribs.
I can feel the warmth that's been living in my chest for six days pulling back from the edges, making room for something cold and familiar.
He's right, says the part of me Marcus built.
This is temporary. You're temporary. You've always been temporary.
A heavy puff of air falls from my lips as I try to avoid the sob making its way up my throat. I’m not going to let him ruin this thing I have here with Boone and the guys. The panic continues to creep in, messing with my head, desperately trying to ignite my flight response.
Three seconds later, I make my way down the hallway and toward Boone’s voice, unsurprised to find him in the office. Boone is at his desk with reading glasses low on his nose, going over paperwork, and he looks up when my shadow crosses the doorway.
"Ash?" He takes the glasses off. "You okay? We saved you a plate."
I cross the room and drop to my knees in front of his chair and press my face against his thigh.
My hands are shaking against his jeans but I can’t speak because if I open my mouth what comes out is going to be the sound Marcus put inside me, the scared, small sound of a man who just got reminded he's nothing.
Boone's hand comes to my hair. His other hand finds the back of my neck and he holds me against his leg, letting me calm on my own. After a minute, his thumb moves under my chin and tilts my face up.
"I’m assuming Marcus reached out to you," he says.
I nod.
"What did he say?"
"That I'll come back because I always do." My voice comes out small as I swallow back that sob still trying to get out. "That no one else will want me. That we're not over until he says."
Boone's jaw tightens, that quiet structural anger I'm learning to read. His thumb traces my cheekbone as he holds my eyes, but doesn't give me a speech about my worth. Just a few words that mean everything in the world.
“I will always want you, Dove. Always.” His fingers continue to card through my hair before gently pulling back so I meet his gaze again. “What do you need, Ash?”
I try to just sag against him, that jittery feeling not completely going away but he doesn’t let me. He holds my gaze, waiting for my words. I swallow nervously, my eyes dipping to the slight bulge in his pants before returning to his face. “I don’t want to think for a little bit. Please.”
Boone hums, a small smile spreading across his lips.
“As much as I’d love to bend you over this desk and fuck you, your sweet little ass needs a break, Dove.
” I almost whine in protest, my cheeks flaming as I swallow back that sound before he just chuckles.
“But you have a perfectly good mouth should you choose to use it.”
He releases his grip on my hair and places his hands on his thighs before spreading his legs. His cock thickens a little more in his pants, Boone’s eyes darkening with desire. I just stare, waiting for Boone to take charge.
He doesn’t.
“Boone...”
“Take what you need, Dove. Either use your words or your hands, but I’m not going to do this for you.
” He leans forward a little as my brows furrow, embarrassment starting to cloud my vision.
“Ash, look at me. There you are. These two weeks aren’t just about having fun and taking you apart and watching you fall so beautifully.
That’s definitely a perk, but I also want to build your confidence and watch you ask for things, and demand what you want.
When I said that we were yours, I meant it. ”
I sit back on my calves, trying to force my fingers to follow what I want.
It’s terrifying, this handsome man splayed out for me, waiting for me.
Slowly, I reach up to his belt and undo it, before unzipping his pants.
Then, I dip into his boxers and unearth his cock, my breath catching in my throat.
Boone lets out a hiss of pleasure as I lean forward to run my tongue along the tip before sucking just the head into my mouth. A moan vibrates through me, immediate relief at having his taste in my mouth taking over.
“That’s it, Dove. Show me exactly what you want.” Boone says, his hand moving through my hair again. "You're safe, Ash. You're right here with me."
I take him deeper, my fingers wrapping around the base where I can’t reach with my mouth.
"Marcus is wrong," he purrs. "About everything.
He's wrong that you'll go back and he's wrong that nobody wants you and he's wrong that he gets to decide when you're done.
" His thumb traces behind my ear as his voice keeps me grounded while I work him with my mouth.
"You're wanted in this house by every person in it, and that's not going to change because a man who left you on the side of a road decided to pick up a phone. "
"Hey, Sunshine, your plate's getting cold, and Cass is eyeing your cornbr—"
Teague's boots stop in the doorway. There’s a beat of silence. Then the sound of him settling his shoulder against the frame.
"Well," he says. "Okay then."
I start to pull off, but Boone's hand tightens in my hair, keeping me there. "He can eat afterward," Boone says over my head. "Marcus called him."
The silence from the doorway changes quality. I hear Teague push off the frame, his boots crossing the floor. "How bad?" Teague asks, his voice dropping the warmth and moving something harder underneath.
They’re talking like I’m not here while sucking off Boone and some part of me really likes that.
"Bad enough that he came straight here and went to his knees without a word."
Teague's hand lands on my back between my shoulder blades. He crouches behind me, his mouth inches from my ear.
"Ash, stand up for me, Sunshine."
I pull off Boone and stand on shaking legs, Teague's hands moving to my hips, steadying me. Boone is still in the chair, his jeans open, watching my face with those amber eyes. Teague's chest is warm against my back as his hands slide around to the front of my jeans and pop the button.