“How do you feel?” he softly asks, bringing my hand into his and pressing his lips gently to my knuckles.
“I feel good. I stopped drinking pretty early on. I don’t know about your mom though. She was pretty worse for wear when we came home last night. We left her passed out on the sofa with a trashcan beside her just in case she hurled. She was so drunk,” I chuckle, remembering the mischief she kept finding herself in. One particular memory I have includes her getting up on the tables with one of Mia’s cousins and dancing to ‘Blurred Lines’ by Robin Thicke. She was wild, that’s for sure.
“She seems okay this morning. She’s downstairs making breakfast.”
My eyes narrow on Ashton, shocked. “Are you serious? She drank enough to float a battleship last night! How is she even walking, let alone making breakfast?”
His laugh fills the room. “What can I say? She’s a college chick at heart.”
“You can say that again. You don’t even want to know the things she did last night.”
“Knowing my mother, I can imagine exactly what she got up to … and as her son, I beg you to never tell me,” he almost pleads with a horrified glare, and I bury my head into his neck with a high-pitched giggle. After a few moments of silence, I position myself on my side with my head resting against his shoulder, his fingertips working through the strands of my hair, causing delightful shivers to tingle across my naked skin.
“So this is your old bedroom, huh?” I ask looking around at the dark blue walls, with band posters adorning the walls and numerous sports trophies lined up along a shelf, detailing his love for football, soccer and basketball.
“It sure is.”
“I wonder how many girls you’ve had up here,” I say with an intrigued smirk before my smile falters at the thought of Riley in here. Just the mere thought makes the orange juice I devoured moments ago begin to regurgitate in my stomach. How I’m jealous of a girl who was in Ashton’s life eighteen years ago is beyond me. But, it’s Riley ... I’ve had a bad taste in my mouth ever since I met her. I managed to put my dislike for her to the back of my mind last night with the help of alcohol, but I still have two days of her presence to put up with. How is it possible to form such dislike for a woman after only a day of knowing her?
“As a matter of fact, you’re the first girl I’ve ever had in here.”
I blink with surprise, pivoting my head to get a better look at him. “Are you kidding me? You’ve never had a girl up here? Not even a girl from college on spring break?” I ask him incredulously. How is that even possible? I’ve seen pictures of him when he was younger. He had heartbreaker written all over him. Hell ... he still does.
“Nope, my mom would have shit a brick if I had brought a girl up here. The mom you got to see last night, is different to the mom I had when I was growing up. She had three boys. She had to be strict. And chicks in the bedroom were a no-go.” He smiles fondly, without a trace of bitterness in his voice. Although I can’t imagine sixteen-year-old Ashton would have been happy with such strict rules.
“Not even with the door open?”
“No, not even then. She was still convinced we’d get up to no good, or I’d impregnate a girl. When we used to argue with her, even just to have a girl come over to watch a movie, she used to say, ‘It takes thirty-three seconds to walk from the living room to your bedroom and in those thirty-three seconds anything can happen. It only took thirty-three seconds to conceive you’. Then with a glare that said ‘do you get where I’m going with this?’ she’d walk away, and well ... that was the end of the conversation. I mean, anything that ends with the visual of your mom and dad doing it, is enough to shut any kid up.”
I giggle into the crux of his neck, loving Alana even more. I would have loved to have a mom like her: one that actually cared. I didn’t have rules to follow or curfews to abide by and when most kids would have loved that freedom, I craved the authority. I needed someone who could have protected me from the creatures that lurked in the dark … creatures that came in the form of my brother.
But that was another lifetime. Now I have a daughter of my own to protect; and I will do it by protecting her the same way Alana protected her boys.
“We might not have done anything under her roof, but her warnings were never a good enough deterrent though. I just got creative … and that’s why I lost my virginity at summer camp. But my mom was wrong though.”
“How so?”
“I lost my virginity expecting it to last a whole thirty-three seconds, but it lasted less than fifteen.”
“Wow,” I choke out with laughter. “You must have rocked that girl’s world.” The moment I say it I have to fight back the jealousy that begins to churn in my stomach again, the orange juice leaving an acidic taste in my mouth when I realize the girl he lost his virginity to is the same girl I’ve taken a dislike to—Riley. I mean, he did say he had quite a few firsts with her. But then I quickly push it away again, when I realize I’m being ridiculous for being jealous of a relationship Ashton had when he was fifteen years old. What the hell is wrong with me? Seriously, I need to get a grip of myself. These insecurities seem to be running away with me.
“You jealous of my virtue?” he asks with a raised eyebrow, amused, obviously sensing my burning—extremely irrational—jealousy.
“No ... I just …” My mouth turns up in a smirk when he suddenly has me on my back, crawling over me like a lion on the prowl.
“You just what?” he asks in a seductive drawl that almost makes me lose my train of thought. Almost.
“I just hate the thought of some other woman’s hands on you.” I smooth my hands over his shoulders, feeling the muscles against my fingers shudder at the sensual contact as I show—in fine detail—whose hands should only be allowed to touch him. Then to add to the touch, I whisper, “My hands should be the only hands to touch you. You’re mine …” The territorial words shock me a little. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt so incredibly protective of someone other than Lily. However, it’s more than a motherly instinct. It’s an irrational, alpha-chick, wanting-to-stake-my-claim type of protectiveness. I’m naturally insecure—I always have been—but this is the first time I’ve ever felt insecure about my relationship with Ashton.
His green eyes darken in an instant, and my legs automatically open up to him, feeling his hardness pressed up against me. “I am, huh?” he questions playfully.
“Uh huh,” I coyly reply with a smile.
“My woman staking claim on what is rightfully hers … that’s hot, baby.” I giggle as his mouth zones in on my neck, sucking against the sweet spot that he knows drives me utterly insane. He pulls away a moment later; the playfulness in his eyes now serious.
“I said this yesterday, and I’ll say this again. You don’t ever need to be jealous. Yes, I’ve been with other women, but their touch has never had the same effect on me like your touch has. Your touch is like lightening, fireworks and electricity all rolled into one. Just one touch from you is enough to set my body alight. No one has ever come close to making me feel like that. Ever. Only you.” The seriousness fades and is quickly replaced with extreme lust. His eyes never once leave mine as his fingers begin an upward journey along my arms—causing shivers to erupt along my bare skin—until he’s captured my hands within his, locking them above my head.
“How about I show you how much you make me feel?”
A gasp falls from my lips as his erection presses heavily against my bare pussy that is now pooling with desire, no doubt soaking the material of his shorts. I wrap my legs around his waist and grind my hips against his, causing a deep growl to escape his beautiful plump lips—lips I want to utterly devour. “Let’s see if this bad boy can last longer than thirty-three seconds, huh?” He waggles his eyebrows as he lets go of my hands, making me giggle but it turns into a sighed moan the moment the weight of his bare cock presses against me—freed from the restraints of his shorts—before he sinks deep inside of me, proving he can last a hell of a lot longer than thirty-three seconds.