Something for the Pain
Copyright © 2015 Victoria Ashley
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means such as electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Cover by
Cover It Designs
Model
Robert Simmons
Photographer
Eric David Battershell
Edited by
Charisse Spiers
Interior Design and Formatting by
Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable
Table of Contents
Something for the Pain
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Books by Victoria Ashley
ZIPPING UP THE FLY OF my favorite denims, I hop into my truck while apologizing to Jade. Things were just starting to get heated when I heard my phone go off and saw that it was Tripp. I tried my hardest to ignore it, but every time she calls I let my heart do the talking . . . even when I am naked and rock hard.
Shit! That is going to hurt later.
When I answered, she had asked me to meet her at our favorite bar. She said it was important, which leads to why I am now sitting in my truck with a pissed off Jade throwing my shirt at my head.
“Who does that, huh?” Slipping on her stilettos, she leans in and grips the top of my window as I toss my shirt into the passenger seat. She lets out a deep breath and looks away, embarrassed. “No man in his right mind leaves during sex to go see another woman. What makes you think this opportunity is going to come up again? Do you just assume that you’ll get another chance?” She turns back to face me again while brushing her black hair behind her ear. “Well do you, Alex? Huh?”
I shove my key into the ignition and watch her chest as it quickly rises and falls. She sounds angry, but her eyes are full of want and need as they scan over my tatted chest and arms. Her body is still craving my touch and wanting more; it’s clear as fucking day. From the way her body was reacting to mine in the bedroom, there is no doubt in my mind that if I wanted this to happen again, it would. The question is, do I want it to happen again?
“Look, Jade. I already explained this to you. When a friend calls and says they need me . . . I go. Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve known Tripp since I was eight. If she needs me, there is nothing that is going to stop me from going.” I bring my eyes down to her breasts and lick my lips. As turned on as I may be, my head overrules my dick when it comes to Tripp. “Not even some very dirty sex.” I turn the key, starting up the engine and a small growl escapes from her throat. “Save the growling for the bedroom.”
Running her tongue over her perfectly bleached teeth, she takes a step back and places her hands to her hips as I pull out of her driveway. There is no doubt that she is pissed to the max, but she’ll get over it. They always do. This isn’t the first time I have left during the middle of sex to take care of Tripp. It won’t be the last time either. In the past I’ve left elevator sex, office sex, bathroom stall sex . . . basically sex in any place you can think of. This is the norm for us. This is how we’ve always been, how we function.
When I arrive at Blue’s, I jump out of my truck, slip my shirt over my head, and yank the back door open. It’s pretty close to empty, so I spot Tripp immediately after I step inside. She’s already seated in the far left side; our usual spot.
Her eyes lock with mine, and seeing them light up is all the confirmation I need to know that I made the right decision by coming. It’s always the right decision when it comes to her.