“Get out.” I’m shaking with rage, at myself as much as him. “I said, get out!”
But Ash doesn’t move. He looks at me calmly. “JJ, you know me,” he says softly. “You know I would never do this to hurt you.”
“I used to know you,” I mutter, hollow. “But this guy, right here? He’s a stranger.”
A hot, disheveled stranger who’s still more magnetic than any other man I’ve known. I clench my hands into fists to keep from reaching for him, falling back into bed, and showing him everything I’ve learned since the last time we fucked, three years ago.
Except he already knows. He’s seen every part of me, betrayed me a hundred times over.
How could he do this to me?
“I trusted you,” I whisper, the words falling broken from my lips.
Ash looks pained.
“When I didn’t know your identity, I still trusted you. You took care of me. You made me feel safe. But you broke that trust here tonight. You broke us.”
I force the next words out, my heart breaking as I say them.
“I don’t ever want to see you again.”
Ash stares back, his expression unreadable. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, and I hate it that I even care. This man has betrayed me worse than anyone, and it still hurts me to see the shadow of pain in his eyes.
I snatch my purse from him and exit the bedroom, heading through the suite towards the exit.
Suddenly, his hand is on my arm, pulling me back around. “Don’t go.”
I look up. My breath catches. He’s looking at me intensely. Desire and desperation in his eyes.
How dare he?
He steps forward, slowly pushing me back against the wall. I should shove back, walk out of here and leave him behind forever, but for some reason, I can’t move.
His heat rolls through me. His scent hits like a drug. And most of all, the sheer overwhelming presence of him keeps me pinned in place. Strong. Determined.
Hungry.
My eyes flutter shut and I breathe him in.
I hate him.
“Please…” I whisper, and even I don’t know what I’m asking. For him to let me go, or turn me around and fuck me right here up against the wall, like the very first time.
Ash dips his head closer, until I can feel his breath, hot on my cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice rasping. “I’ll let you go. But this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”
He drags his thumb softly across my lips. The feeling goes straight between my thighs. He presses harder, easing my lips apart and sliding his thumb into my mouth.
It takes everything I have not to moan out loud.
It’s crazy how my body responds to him. Even after everything, my instincts are still screaming to surrender. To suck his finger in and then fall to my knees and suck him.
He knows. His eyes flash dark. He steps in closer, and presses his body hard against mine.
I shudder. I can feel his cock pushing hard through our clothes. Thick and long, and my pussy clenches just remembering how he felt, pounding me relentlessly, splitting me wide open, filling me up.
So fucking good.
“I’ll give you some time,” he repeats, sliding his thumb out of my mouth. “But I’m not giving up. Because no matter how mad you are right now, we both know that you loved this, JJ. Every fucking minute of it.”
My eyes fly open, in time to see his stare. Blazing. Arrogant.
Before I can protest, his lips crash down on mine, claiming me in a passionate kiss.
Fuck him.
I fight the desire surging through my body, but it’s too strong. I want to fight him off. Push him away. I feel his tongue in my mouth, his hands trying to distract me, intense and hard.
Fuck me for letting him do this.
Ash devours me, merciless, until finally, the kiss turns tender. Soft and sweet, heart-breakingly slow. He pulls away, caressing my cheek.
He betrayed me, used me, and after all that, he still thinks he can have me. Like I’ll roll over and forgive him for this without a second thought.
“No, you won’t.” I manage to pull myself together and push him away from me. “I don’t need time. We’re over. Send one of your staff to deal with the lawsuit, fly back to England, I don’t fucking care. I’m never speaking to you again.”
With a final glare, I reach the door and pull it open. But just as I’m stepping into the hallway, so close to leaving him behind forever, his voice comes, loud and direct.
“Admit it,” he says. “You hoped it would be me.”
CHAPTER TWO
JUSTINE
Ash tries calling, dozens of times, but I ignore them all and delete his texts unread. He wants to meet and explain, talk for real this time, now that I’ve had a chance to calm down.
But I don’t feel calm. I don’t feel anything but betrayed. I’ve never felt this shitty in my life. I don’t know what to do with myself. When I try to read a book or watch TV, I can’t concentrate on what’s going on right in front of me. I’m fucking miserable.
So I come up with a plan. I will allow myself exactly three days of utter misery and high-quality wallowing, and then I’m going to forget this every happened. Forget this asshole ever meant anything to me.
Every time I think about what I did, what I begged him to do to me, my stomach twists.
It’s like I’ve been under a spell of lust since opening that first invitation, and now that spell is shattered. I’m wide awake, but I wish I wasn’t. Because now that I don’t have that intoxicating cocktail of desire and adrenaline surging in my veins, there’s nothing to distract me from my broken heart.
Because he was right.
Those parting words, designed to torment me, are doing just that.
I wanted my mystery man to be Ash. I wanted it to be him so bad.
We’ve been connecting more and more; that day at the racetrack, our private meetings. It felt like the missing years disappeared, and we were right back to being us again. Friends. Maybe even more…
Until he revealed he’d been in LA for months and never even contacted you, I remind myself bitterly. He cut you out of his life, then picked you back up like some dumb toy to play with. He used you, don’t ever forget it.
But why?
The question haunts me as I spiral full-force into wallowing mode. Ice cream, trashy rom-coms, I’ve got it all covered: slumped on the couch in my sweatpants at 2 in the afternoon. I have vacation due from work, and I’m in no hurry to get back to LA in the state I’m in. Better to get every last piece of heartache out of my system before I fly home and do my victory walk through those gleaming office doors.
Maybe then I’ll give a damn about winning my case, instead of feeling like I lost everything that matters to me.
My phone rings, just as I’m considering another ice cream run to the deli on the corner.
My heart stops.
I check the caller ID and let out a sigh of relief. Not Ashton. Just the office.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Justine.” It’s one of the partners, Peyton, sounding smooth as ever. “I know you’re taking a few days off, but I wanted to congratulate you on the Venture case. It’s a big win, in all the papers.”
“Thanks.” I try to sound upbeat. A month ago I’d have been over the moon at a personal call from one of the partners, but right now, I just feel numb.
“A very nice result,” he adds, like he’s calculating the firm’s percentage. Since my client Adam couldn’t afford to pay our regular retainer, he arranged to give the firm a tiny cut of future revenues. But when you’re talking about potential billions, that tiny cut gets big real fast. “In fact, we’re having our bi-annual meeting on Monday to discuss promotions and raises. I don’t want to put the cart before the horse,” he adds with a chuckle. “But it’s safe to say, your name will be mentioned.”