Chapter Five
Ash
"Fuck," I grunt, one hand planted against the wall of the shower. My other is in a tight fist around my cock, stroking. Loralei's face flashes behind my eyes, and I grip myself tighter.
She'd probably kill me if she knew what I was doing right now, but I can't help it.
Every time she looks up at me through her lashes, I want to haul her onto my lap to see if she tastes as good as she smells.
I want to hear her make that same fucking sound she made earlier—before she ran off to the bathroom like she was fleeing for her life.
I'm an asshole for telling her that we're stranded. I know I am. But she was ready to walk out of my life, and I panicked. I need to keep her here a little while longer. Just long enough to…what? Convince her to give me a chance? Figure out what the fuck is happening to me? I don't know.
All I know for sure is that today is the most fun I've had in a long time.
She's the first person who has looked at me like a person in even longer.
She hasn't asked a single question about the band, my career, who I know, what it's like to be a celebrity, or any of that. She looks at me like I'm just a man.
I forgot what that was like. I forgot how it felt to sit beside a beautiful woman and just be a normal fucking dude.
And Christ, she is so pretty. Every damn time I look at her, I feel stupid. Anyone can grind at the gym until they have the perfect body. They can hire whatever surgeon they want to perform whatever miracles they want. None of that will ever make you glow from the inside the way she does.
It won't change the light in your eyes or the unguarded way you laugh, or the sweet way you smile, either. There's just this softness about her, this realness, that's rare. It's so fucking perfect.
"Loralei," I groan, my thumb running over the head of my cock when her big doe eyes flash behind my eyes. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, the sound of her laughter echoing in my head. My stomach muscles contract, my balls drawing up.
I come with a groan, my seed spilling down my hand and spraying across the shower wall. I grunt, locking my legs to keep myself upright. My heart pounds, every muscle in my body going loose at the same time.
"Fucking hell," I pant, my head drooping forward. I watch as my cum swirls down the drain, my cock softening. For long moments, I just stand there, trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing.
I'm too young for a midlife crisis. But maybe that's exactly what this is. I ran away from every responsibility I've ever had to a cabin in the middle of nowhere. I lied to Loralei just to keep her here. To what end? What do I really expect to happen here?
My whole life is paparazzi, stadium shows, and a never-ending parade of parties, public appearances, commitments and obligations. Hers is her books. I saw the way her entire face lit up when she talked about the library. That's where she belongs. It's what makes her happy.
My world would make her miserable. But some part of me wants to slot myself into her life like I have a right. I don't. I'm just the motherfucker who nearly ran her over.
For her sake, maybe that's all I should be.
"Dammit," I mutter, grabbing the soap to scrub up as frustration churns through me. I don't want to be a story she tells years from now. I don't want to be the rockstar she thought she was stranded with once upon a time. I want her to know me—really know me. And I want to know her, too.
It makes no fucking sense, but I want some piece of her to belong to me, some piece no one else has. And maybe I want her to have some piece of me that no one else has, either. I want to carry some part of her with me when I leave here.
And eventually, I have to leave here. I can't hide forever.
Truthfully, I'm not even sure why I came. I just knew if I didn't leave, I was going to snap. I was staring at a bottle of whiskey, thinking how nice it'd be to drown myself in it. That's a problem. A big fucking problem.
I don't want to be the guy who trips down that path. I've been there once, nearly lost everything because I let myself get so out of control, and I swore I wouldn't do it again.
So…I called the band, told them I was taking a hiatus, rented the cabin, and left. Now that I'm here, I feel calmer, less like I'm one sleepless night from throwing everything away just so I don't have to carry the shit any longer.
Loralei has a lot to do with that. Doesn't matter if I just met her. She excites me in a way nothing has in a long goddamn time. That means something. At least, it should.
I turn off the shower and grab a towel, wrapping it around my waist before I step out onto the fluffy rug. The mirror is fogged over, steam still swirling around the small bathroom. For a moment, I just stand there silently, trying to hear her moving around in the cabin, but it's quiet. Too quiet.
Did she slip out while I was showering?
A bolt of anxiety shoots through me at the thought.
I rip the towel off, stepping into a pair of sweats. I barely even drag the towel through my hair to dry it before I'm stepping out into the hall, eager to make sure she didn't disappear into the night while I was showering.
"Loralei?"
No answer.
I peek into the bedroom across the hall, but she isn't in there.
The light is still on in the living room, so I stalk that way, only to freeze in the doorway when I see her curled up on the end of the sofa nearest the fireplace.
She's got her feet tucked up underneath her, her head resting on one hand.
There's a book in the other, her eyes scanning across the page.
She's so absorbed in what she's reading, she doesn't even notice me watching her. I stare shamelessly, just drinking her in. Every few seconds, her lips move like she's mouthing lines to herself. After a minute or two, her cheeks turn pink, and she shifts restlessly, her thighs pressing together.
Interesting.
"What are you reading?"
She startles, her eyes darting to mine. The guilty expression on her face is fucking cute. So is the way she tries to hide her book behind her back, like if I can't see it, it doesn't exist. "Nothing," she lies. "I thought you were in the shower."
"Finished five minutes ago, baby." I prowl toward her, more intrigued than ever about what the fuck she's reading. "You were lost in your book. What's it about?"
"What book? I don't know what you're talking about." Her cheeks are bright pink now, her eyes darting from mine like if she doesn't look at me, she can keep living in her own version of reality where, apparently, there is no book, and I didn't just catch her reading something dirty.
"Uh-huh," I smirk, stopping in front of her. "So…I just imagined you getting all hot and bothered over whatever you were reading?"
"Yes."
"And I suppose I'm just imagining the paperback sticking out from behind you right now, too?"
She makes an adorable little squeaking sound, trying to shove the book beneath the cushion of the couch to hide it entirely. I'm quicker than she is, though. Mostly because I'm a curious motherfucker now.
What turns her on? What makes her thighs clench and her panties wet? I'm dying to know.
I bat her hand out of the way, snagging the book. I hold it up in front of me, reading the first line that comes into focus. "Get on your hands and knees and show me that pretty little p—"
"Give it back!" Loralei squeals, launching herself off the sofa. She hits me like a meteor, all flailing limbs and indignant squeaks, trying like hell to wrestle the book from my hands.
I turn slightly, but her leg catches the back of my knee. We go down like falling dominoes. I drop the book, grabbing onto her instead. Somehow, I manage to twist, but not enough to ensure she lands on top of me.
We land in a heap on the rug beside the coffee table, with me sprawled halfway on top of her, most of my weight on my arms.
She gasps beneath me, going completely still.
I mean to roll off her before I squish her. Really, I do. But she's so fucking soft, and she smells like vanilla and woodsmoke.
I freeze instead, a surge of desire firing through every nerve ending simultaneously.
Her body shudders slightly, and I feel her breasts against my chest. Fucking hell, I feel her everywhere, the burning heat of her pussy nestled right against my cock, her breath against my lips, her legs tangled with mine.
"Ash."
I groan, burying my face in her throat to breathe her in. At least, that's what I tell myself I'm doing. But my tongue dances down the tendon in the side of her throat, my teeth scraping her skin.
She whimpers, her hands fisting into my shirt. Her fingertips graze my skin, and rational thought spirals away.
"Tell me to stop," I rasp, dangerously close to doing something I can't take back, something neither of us can take back.
I want to do it, so fucking badly I can't think straight.
I don't want her to tell me to stop. I don't want to let her up.
I want to stay right here, with her cunt against my cock until she's soaking me through her sweats.
"D-don't," she gasps, her head falling back. "God, Ash. Don't stop."
I don't. I can't. She's beneath me, begging me, and I can't fucking stop. I growl her name, my teeth raking down the side of her throat. One hand slides down her side, yanking her leg up over my hip to open her up to me.
She cries out softly, rocking into me.
Christ, she's so hot, so sweet.
I grind my cock against her, sucking and biting at the soft skin of her throat. "Jesus, Loralei," I hum against her skin, kissing my way to her mouth. "You feel perfect beneath me, baby."
"Ash. Ash, please!"
One small hand claws at my side. The other slides into my hair, pulling insistently, trying to get my mouth on hers. I give us both what we want, slanting my mouth down over hers.
The way she sobs against my lips is heaven. So is the way she rocks against me in response, grinding her cunt against the head of my cock in search of relief.