Until Ashlyn Read online

  “You’re right. You don’t like to argue. You just like to boss me around, tell me what to do, and then get pissed when I don’t listen. Even better,” I huff, standing carefully, making sure to keep the pressure off my foot, and then I grab one of the crutches leaning against my bedside table.

  “You got four stitches in your foot this morning, four stitches that need time to heal properly. I’m not bossing you around. I’m concerned about your wellbeing.”

  “Fine, I won’t work tomorrow, but only because I don’t want to,” I grumble, making sure he knows it’s not his choice but mine.

  “Good,” he mutters, then looks at the crutch under my arm and frowns. “Where are you going?”

  “The bathroom then the living room, so we can eat there.”

  “We could eat in here.” He nods to the bed, but I shake my head.

  “No eating in my bed.”

  “No eating in your bed?” He raises a brow, and I really wish I didn’t find him so attractive, especially when I’m annoyed with him.

  “I don’t like to sleep on crumbs.”

  Smiling, he takes a step closer to me and places a kiss to my forehead, muttering there, “I’ll meet you in the living room with the menu.”

  “I know what I want. Should I text it to you?” I ask, grabbing my cell.

  “I think I can remember.”

  “Okay. Peanut noodles, fried dumplings, egg rolls, hot and sour soup, ginger—”

  “I’ll wait for you to come out to call,” he cuts me off, smiling. “Do you want me to help you into the bathroom?”

  “Nope, I got it.” I limp, using my crutch, and head for the bathroom, ignoring the fact that he follows behind me until I’m inside and have shut the door. Once I’m done taking care of business, I wash my hands and open the door, not at all surprised that he’s standing outside the door waiting on me. “I told you I’m okay.”

  “I know I just wanted to make sure.” He shrugs taking my crutch from me, leaning it against the wall next to the bathroom, before scooping me up into his arms.

  “I can walk,” I halfheartedly inform him while wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “You can walk tomorrow when I’m not home to carry you,” he says, carrying me to the couch in the living room where he settles me against his side as he places the order for Chinese food.

  Unloading the bag of Chinese food the delivery guy dropped off twenty minutes later, I watch Dillon come back with plates and forks, taking a seat next to me on the couch.

  “Are you going to really eat all of that?” he asks, and I turn to look at him and nod.

  “Not all of it right now, but yes. Between tonight and tomorrow for breakfast, none of it will go to waste.”

  “I’ve never seen a woman eat as much as you do,” he states, and my hand lingers over my styrofoam dish containing peanut noodles.

  “Is that bad?”

  “No, I like that you eat. I like that you’re not afraid to eat in front of me.”

  “Oh.” I move my hand to his container of beef and broccoli and brown rice, and hand it to him, holding his stare as he takes it from me. “I work out,” I inform him, not sure why I feel the need to tell him that, but I’m suddenly uncomfortable with his comment.

  Setting his container of food on the table, he leans forward and takes hold of my chin. “You’re beautiful, Ashlyn. You could weigh a hundred pounds more and you’d still be gorgeous. I’d still be attracted to you.”

  Studying him, I can see he’s being sincere, and those stupid butterflies take flight once more as my body leans into his touch.

  I’ve never needed a man to tell me I’m beautiful, to pay for my meals, open doors, or take care of me, but having him do those things is playing havoc with my emotions and making me pray this thing between us works out.

  “What are you thinking right now?” he questions softly.

  That I’m stupidly falling in love with you.

  “I don’t know,” I lie, looking into his beautiful eyes and wondering what he’s thinking.

  “Hmm,” he hums, leaning in and touching his mouth to mine briefly. “Let’s eat before all your food is cold.”

  “Okay,” I agree, but instead of doing the smart thing, I lean forward and press my mouth to his, sweeping my tongue across his lips. The instant I do, his hold on my chin tightens, his free hand slides into my hair, and he takes over the kiss, sweeping his tongue into my mouth. I don’t know how long we make out, but by the time we get around to eating, our food is cold.

  *

  “Go back to bed,” Dillon bosses as I lean against the front door.

  Rolling my eyes at that, I grumble, “I already told you I would.” I just catch his lips tip up, which annoys the hell out of me. He knows he’s won. Then again, he’s won for the last week. I haven’t worked all week long, and today is my last day at home. My foot is much better. I can put weight on it without wincing, and I don’t need to take the pills I was prescribed anymore to deal with the pain.

  “I have to stop at my place when I get off work to pick some stuff up. Do you want me to bring dinner home?”

  Home. Okay, that word makes those pesky butterflies take flight again, but I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s calling this home since he’s been here with me every night.

  “Um, I may try to cook,” I murmur, watching a familiar car pull into my second driveway.

  “I’ll check in on you today, before then.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay,” he repeats softly, dipping his face and brushing his lips over mine once, twice, then a third time, sliding his tongue across my lips, making me moan. I latch on to his dress shirt, and his hand on my ass squeezes. I have no idea how much longer I will be able to hold down the no sex rule. Every time he touches me, my whole body begs for more, and it’s not helping that we are sharing a bed and he walks around half naked most of the time.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” he speaks against my mouth, giving my ass another squeeze before sauntering off down the steps to his car. Watching his ass in dark slacks, his broad shoulders covered in a burgundy dress shirt, and his confident gait, I hold my breath. I definitely won’t be able to hold out much longer.

  “Um… what the hell was that?” Michelle, my very best friend in the whole wide world, asks from the sidewalk with her hands on her hips and her brows arched. I totally forgot about seeing her car pull in a moment ago. She’s been away with her boyfriend, Luka, visiting his family in Colorado, and we haven’t really talked since she’s been gone.

  “Um…”

  “Do not ‘um’ me, woman. Are you insane? That was Dillon the Dick, with his tongue down your throat and hands on your ass.” She swivels her head, watching Dillon back his shiny black Mercedes out of the drive and onto the road. “You have some explaining to do,” she hisses, tossing her long red hair over her shoulder while stomping toward me on her wedge-covered feet, and I cringe.

  I can’t lie to her. I don’t even want to lie to my parents about this. As she forces me back into the house, I let her in and close the door before turning to face her.

  “Spill it now. Obviously, your relationship with him has changed.”

  “I may have married him in Vegas,” I say quietly, and she blinks.

  “What?” She presses her hand against the wall dramatically, like she needs it to hold her up. “Did you just say you married him in Vegas?”

  “Maybe.” I shrug, and she slides down the wall to the floor and rolls to her back.

  “I knew this would happen. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.” She laughs, kicking her legs up and down like a toddler throwing a fit.

  “When you’re done, I’ll be in the kitchen,” I mutter, moving around her and down the hall toward the kitchen so I can put some food out for Leo, who has been in hiding all morning.

  Coming around the corner a second later, she climbs up on one of the barstools and grabs a banana from my fruit dish—which had always been empty until Dillon started staying here. “Please tell me he has a big penis.”

  “How are you my best friend?” I scoop out Leo’s food into a dish and set it on the ground in his spot.

  Taking a bite of her banana, she chews and swallows then points the uneaten portion at me. “As your best friend, I need to know you are married to a man who has a big penis.”

  “You don’t seem to think it’s a big deal that I married him.”

  “You guys have been pussy-footing around each other forever. I knew it would happen.” She shrugs. “Now answer my question.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes what?” She smirks, and I roll my eyes.

  “Yes, he has a big penis. Are you happy?”

  “Not really, since his super-sized penis and hotness isn’t mine, but I’m happy for you.”

  “Are you really?” I whisper, and her brown eyes soften.

  “Very. He’s the only man I know who’s ever made you feel any kind of emotion besides your family. Any other guy, you couldn’t care less what they think. To me, that says a lot.”

  “It’s way too fast.”

  “Yeah.” She nods. “I mean, I thought you two would end up together, but I had no idea you’d marry him before actually dating him.”

  “I didn’t plan it.”

  “I bet not, Miss ADD, but then again, some of the best things in life are unplanned.”

  “I guess we’ll find out. So how was your trip with Luka?”

  “Amazing,” she breathes, resting her chin in the palm of her hands and I blink.

  “Is that… Is that what I think it is?” I whisper, pointing at the giant rock on her finger.

  “This little thing?” She holds up her hand, then screams, “I’m getting married!”

  “Oh, my God, you finally said yes!” I shout, launching myself across the island and grabbing her hand. “Holy shit, he did good.” I study the large princess-cut diamond surrounded by smaller sapphires. It’s perfect for her.

  “If you like it, then you better put a ring on it.” She giggles, and I laugh right along with her.

  “You’re getting married.” Tears fill my eyes, and I move around the island, wrapping her in a hug. No one deserves happy more than she does. No one.

  “Will you be my maid of honor?”

  “If you even think of asking anyone else, I’ll kill you.”

  “I would never.” She rocks me back and forth then pulls away. “I’m pissed I didn’t get to be at your wedding.”

  “I don’t even really remember it, honestly.” I laugh, and she shakes her head then her eyes widen.

  “Does your dad know you got married?”

  “No one except Jax knows. I have no idea how I’m going to tell them,” I sigh, letting her go.

  “Oh, God, I do not envy you right now. Your dad is going to lose his mind when he finds out his baby got married.” She’s right; my dad will lose his mind. He’s always been protective of me and has hated every guy I’ve ever dated.

  “I know,” I huff, moving to sit on the stool next to hers. “Dillon told my mom that he and I are dating. I don’t know if my mom just hasn’t told my dad or what, but he hasn’t asked me about it when we’ve talked.”

  “Knowing your mom and dad, she’s told him and he’s trying to figure out how he feels about it. He likes Dillon. They always talk whenever your family invites him to functions. He respects him.”

  Sheesh, how could I forget that? Since almost the moment Dillon came into my life, he’s been at all of my family gatherings, and he and my dad do get along. They are always off chatting when they are together. It used to annoy me, but now I’m wondering if it is something that will work in my favor.

  “You’re right.”

  “I’m always right, and once again, I was right about you and Dillon. I told you he had the hot’s for you.”

  She did tell me that all the damn time, and I always ignored it, never even wanting to think it was possibly true. “Whatever. So are you not working today?”

  “I have a few showings this afternoon, and a closing at five. Why are you not at work?”

  “This.” I lift my foot and her face scrunches up. The wound is healed, but the stitches are still in place, and the bruising has turned an ugly shade of yellow.

  “What the hell happened?”

  “Jax got in a fight with Dillon. They broke my lamp, and when I tried to break them up, I sliced my foot open.”

  “Have we not spoken in the past week?” She frowns, and I shrug.

  “We have, but not much.”

  “Apparently.”

  “So I’m guessing what Jenna said about Dillon’s ex was true?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know.” I drop my head to the countertop. I completely forgot that a few months ago, Michelle told me Jenna, a mutual friend who works at the airport, helped the she-bitch from hell get on a flight back to New York after Dillon broke up with her. At the time, I didn’t believe it since Dillon never mentioned it and Jenna tends to lie about everything.

  “It will be okay.” She rubs my back, and I turn my forehand on the counter to look at her.

  “He told me that he has to explain to me about their relationship.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Every time he’s tried to bring it up, I’ve lost my mind. Like, literally… lost my mind. Even the mention of her name pisses me off and makes me see red.”

  “Jealousy.”

  “Yeah, and I’ve never felt that emotion before, so I don’t know how to deal with it.”

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  “It’s not something I want to get used to. I don’t like feeling like that.”

  “So talk to him.”

  Snorting, I lift my head. “Yeah, at some point I’ll grow some balls and hear him out. I just don’t know when that will be.”

  “Don’t let it go too long. If you want this to work with him, you need to know she’s out of his life and hear why she was in it in the first place, when they obviously didn’t suit each other.”

  “You don’t think they did?” I question, running my hand over the cold countertop.

  “No, he’s nice, and she makes the ice queen seem tame. I only saw them together a few times, and I definitely never saw him touch her like I saw him touch you this morning.”

  “I never saw him touch her either,” I mutter, wondering what the hell that’s about.

  “Just ask him about it.”

  “I will,” I agree.

  “I should go.” She hops down off the stool. “I need to pick up some groceries and take them home before I have to meet my first client.”

  “Sure.” I follow her down the hall toward the front door.

  “We should do dinner with the guys this weekend.”

  “I’ll talk to Dillon,” I concur, giving her a hug before stepping back and opening the door.

  “Call me. Love you.”

  “Love you too.” I wait, watching her get into her car, then shut the door and head back to living room, where I plop down on the couch and wonder if I will have the guts to talk to Dillon before it’s too late.

  Chapter 4

  Ashlyn

  Being careful not to cut myself, I sing, “Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear. Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair. Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn’t very fuzzy, was he?” and listen to the sound of my voice bounce off the walls around me. It’s been ten days since I was able to enjoy a normal shower, and I’m loving every second of it. Humming the end, I scream as the shower curtain is ripped open and Dillon’s eyes scan over me, leaving me frozen in place.

  “Babe, seriously?” He laughs, and my brain kicks in as I scramble off the bench I was sitting on while shaving my vagina and attempt to cover myself, smearing shaving cream everywhere in the process.

  “Oh, my God! What are you doing? You can’t just come in here!” I screech, bending at the waist in an attempt to hide as much of myself as I can.

  “I think the real question is why do you have a theme song for shaving your vagina? And��—he holds up his hand, pointing at his finger and the band there—“you’re my wife. I can do whatever the fuck I want when it comes to you.”

  “Get out!” I shout, knowing it’s pointless to argue, since every time I do, he goes over the top on me and forces me to admit we are married.

  “I need a shower.” He lifts his hands behind his head and pulls off his shirt.

  Squeezing my eyes closed, I growl, “You are not getting in here with me.” Feeling my core tighten at just the thought, I can’t take much more of this self-induced torture. Every time he’s close to me, it makes it hard not to give in to my body and jump him.

  “Why are your eyes closed?” I feel his heat at my back and his teeth nip the skin of my neck as he slides his hands around me, pulling me flush against him.

  His arousal bumps against me, and I beg silently for mercy. “Dillon.”

  “Hmm?” he breathes against my neck, coasting his fingers down my stomach. “Are you smooth now?” God, I don’t know. I can’t even remember how much shaving I got done before he interrupted me, but I think I at least got myself cleaned up enough so it’s no longer a jungle down there. “Are you wet?”

  “I’m in the shower, so yes,” I state, trying to sound mad, but the moan that escapes proves I’m a liar.

  His free hand moves up to tweak my nipple, sending a bolt of pleasure through me. “I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself.” He nips my earlobe then licks down the column of my throat, biting my shoulder while his fingers slide between my folds and over my clit, causing my hips to jerk forward. I’m lost in him. Completely lost in him—his mouth on my neck, his hand at my breast, his fingers between my legs. I will give him anything he wants right now, as long as he doesn’t stop what he’s doing.

  “Oh, God,” I moan as one finger slides inside of me.

  “Not God.” He nips my neck hard, thrusting two fingers deep. “Your husband.”

  My head falls back against his shoulder as I ride his fingers. I knew I missed his touch, but didn’t know how much until right now. His thumb rolls over my clit and his hand at my breast squeezes.

  “You’re close.”

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