Read Ash to Steele Online

Authors: Karen-Anne Stewart

Ash to Steele (14 page)

   “So, you’re not going to speak to me now?” I goad, “that’s perfectly fine with me.”  Starting to hum, I bite back a grin at her defiance.  I knew she was strong by her moving to Boston by herself, especially coming from a small town like hers and knowing no one before she arrived, but her tenacity impresses me.  

   When I take a street leading away from where she lives, she bites her lip, in obvious conflict of whether or not to break her silent spell and speak, or continue to give me the silent treatment.

    “Where are you taking me?” she finally asks, her voice dripping with undiluted contempt.

   “My place.  Well, the place my grandfather bought for the manager of his company, so, technically it’s mine, but only for the time being since I’ve not agreed to take the position permanently, which is why it’s not where I usually reside.”

  Emma spins to look at me so fast I can’t keep from chuckling.  “Your place?  Why are we going there?”

   “My place is closer, and from the looks of you, hypothermia might already be settling in,” I tease, “your lips are blue, and you’re so damn stiff, it looks like I could break you in half.”

   Lengthening her spine further, she turns away from me, still shivering.

   Cranking the heat higher, I glance at her, feeling a twinge of guilt, but not enough to stop playing.  Continuing to hum, I entertainingly watch her state of agitation ignite to new levels.

   “You are not seriously sitting over there humming “Sister Christian” right now?”

   Repressing the strong urge to burst out laughing, I shrug, “Seems fitting.”

   Emma huffs, crossing her arms tighter around her drenched body and turning towards her window. Knowing she can’t see me, I grin as I continue to hum the Night Ranger’s tune.

   No more words are said until I pull up to the imposing gates.  Pressing in the security code, I take the winding drive to the house.  The look in her eyes when she sees the 5000 square foot home next to the Olympic size pool greatly amuses me.  “You’re not in Kansas anymore, huh?” A hearty laugh erupts as I look at her, “Auntie Em, ha! I just thought of that.”

   “So not funny, and I’m not from Kansas, jackass,” she mumbles, wiping the astonished look from her face.

   “Three,” I state calmly, but edge the words with a stern tone.

   “Three, what?” she hisses.

   “Three cuss words which means three strikes, want to keep racking them up?”

   Emma shifts slightly in her seat.  It was a small motion, just enough to show that she’s nervous.

   Trying to sneak a glimpse into her eyes, she catches me and turns away, but not before I see how they are tinted with uncertainty. Feeling a twinge of guilt, I ease up on her, calming my tone, “C’mon, let’s get you inside and dry.”

   “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she proclaims, her surliness thrust full force while her resolve burns cobalt blue as she stares at me defiantly. 

   Feeling stupid for my premature empathy, I decide a little uncertainty never hurt anyone.  Unbuckling her seatbelt, I haul her on top of my lap before opening the door and firmly, but gently, take her arm as I lead her inside. 

   “Let go of me,” she seethes, jerking her arm away once we are inside the door.

   Stepping so close to her, I can feel the warmth of her sweet breath against his neck, pushing me further over the edge into those damning emotions I want no part of…except the anger.  I’ll take the anger.   Glaring at her, my tone is harsh, “You are the most impossible, stubborn brat I’ve ever met in my life.”

   “I’m not a brat, stop calling me that!”

   “You’ve been nothing but a brat since I met you.  You must’ve been a piece of work growing up.  You might have Jess fooled, but you’re not fooling me.”

   “Have you ever considered that maybe it’s you?  I have no issues with anyone else.  You’re the one who is completely self-centered, so wrapped up in your own little world filled with mindless bimbos falling at your feet to do whatever it is you ask of them that you can’t fathom when someone doesn’t automatically undo their bra and spread their legs when you walk into the room.  Just because I find you and your
preferences
offensive, not to mention, disgusting, doesn’t mean I’m a brat!” she yells, her finger coming closer to my face with every word.

   “You know nothing about me, or my preferences, so you can close your mouth and spare me your over-righteous attitude and judgment that I don’t give a shit about!” I yell back.

   “I can imagine what your preferences are, you don’t exactly try to hide them!  And, as far as judgment, it’s been you who has been self-righteous, not me!  You’ve done nothing but judge me because of my father, my upbringing, without even trying to get to know
me
! I’ve had enough of your flippant, smartass,
ignorant
comments, so you can be the one to keep your mouth shut!”

   Holding up four fingers, I take a step even closer.  “Your father may have spoiled you and let that smart mouth slide, but you won’t get by with it with me.  I love Jess, but I’m done with this; I’ve reached my limit with you,” I growl, pushing her finger away from my face.  “The next word to come out of your mouth better be the one I want to hear.”

   “I swear if you are even thinking about suggesting for me to pick a safe word, I’m going to slap the hell out of you right here!”  she snarls, practically spitting fire. 

  
Safe word
?  I bite back the laugh that is rumbling up my throat at her wrong, but very interesting twist of what I actually meant, but I decide to roll with it, “That’s five, and you’ve seem to have forgotten something.  There’s no way you could possibly stand even a remote chance against me, sweetheart.  I’d have you over my knee and at my complete mercy in less than two seconds.”  

   Her eyes bore into me, darker than I’ve ever seen.  Anger is evident, but so is fear.  Cursing myself for pushing it too far, I realize that I’m scaring her and that she had no idea that I didn’t mean it when I threatened to bare her ass and punish her in front of a street full of strangers, I can only imagine what more she thinks I will do to her in a private setting. 
Damn, this has gotten out of hand

   I watch her standing in front of me with those radiant eyes defying me through her fear.  Swearing under my breath, I can’t believe I didn’t see it earlier; she’s not just afraid, she’s really scared.  I don’t blame her.  Why wouldn’t she think me capable of physically harming her when all I’ve done is belittle her, treat her like shit, and humiliate her?  I have to fix this.  

   Her breaths come out in tiny, shallow puffs as she stands stubbornly in front of me, still trembling.  I now know that only part of her shivering is from the cold and the rest is from how she’s scared that I’m going to strike her in some way.  Taking a slow step towards her, she stands her ground, jutting her chin a little higher.  Her bottom lip trembles, although I can tell she’s trying very hard to keep it steady.  I admire the hell out of her for that. 

   The clean, peachy, intoxicating scent of her damp skin permeates the air. The swelling in my soaking wet pants becomes uncomfortably tighter as I watch the water drip from her drenched hair and roll down her long, slender neck to the exposed area just above her chest that I’m dying to touch.  Raising my hand to brush a wet, chestnut tendril from her face, she flinches slightly.  That action slays me, searing deep into my soul.

   “I’m not going to hurt you,” I whisper, hating how harshly I have treated her.

   “That’s not what you said earlier,” she spits out, the words brave, but her eyes losing some of their fiery spark.

   “I only said that to get you out of the rain before you froze to death.  I was just kidding, and I didn’t want to get wet.  I’m sorry if I frightened you.”  I am sorry.  More sorry then I’ve been in a long time.

   Emma’s shoulders lose a fraction of tension as they ease lower.

   Carefully studying her, I see the fear fading, but only a little.  “Besides, I threatened to spank you, not
beat
you.” 

   Emma takes an unsteady step backwards, reacting to another misunderstanding of my intentions.

  
Damn!
  I soften my gaze, needing her to understand that I won’t hurt her, that I would never hurt her. “Look, I like giving a few sensual, playful smacks on the ass like the next guy, but I’m the type of man to deliver pleasure, not inflict pain.” 

   The thought of her leaning over my lap, her breasts pressed against the outside of my thigh, and her naked ass positioned perfectly for my touch while the soft skin of her lower abdomen warms the part of me that needs to be buried deep inside of her, leaves me throbbing excruciatingly.  Gently grabbing a wet lock of her hair, I slowly slide it through my fingers, my eyes locked on hers, which only engulfs me further into a blazing desire. 

   Giving her a reassuring smile, I feel like a bastard for scaring her, “You have my word that I will never hurt you.  Rest assured, your physical well being is perfectly safe with me.  Your virginity, now that’s a different story.”

   Slowly, the fear begins to fade from her eyes as I rub her arms in my hands, trying to get her warm. 

   “Sorry,” I whisper.

   “You already said that,” she responds, her voice much calmer.

   “No. I mean, that’s the word I was looking for from you earlier,” I wink.  “How does a small town, preacher’s daughter know about safe words anyway?” I ask, laughing, “especially one that’s a virgin.”

   “I’m from a small town, not a different planet,” Emma blushes, “we did have television, and I do know how to read?”

   “What exactly have you been reading, Ms. Jones?”

   Her blush deepens, and so does my throbbing.  Looking at her standing in front of me, dripping wet, embarrassed, and vulnerable, the truth hits me square in the gut, taking my breath away.  There is no way in hell I’m going to be able to forget about this woman.  Taking her home will do nothing to rid her presence from my mind.  She’s already imprinted on my soul.  This one is going to be a handful, and I’m ready to take whatever she will give. 

   “You need to get out of your wet clothes,” I tell her, stripping her from her drenched wool coat. 

   The fear in Emma’s eyes returns, but it’s different this time. 

   “I told you, you’re safe with me,” I whisper, tilting her chin with my finger so she’s forced to look at me.

   “I know you won’t hurt me,” she breathes, and I realize that she’s not afraid
of
me; she’s afraid of what she feels
for
me. 

   She’s not the only one.  I’m terrified.

   “I’m sorry I ruined the clothes Dur Acier bought.” Her eyes fill with regret as she glances at the soaked clothing.

   “It’s your dress, Emma.  You earned it, and, no worries, they will dry clean just fine.”

   Her tongue runs nervously across her lips, “If you want to change, then take me home, I’m fine until I get there.”

   “You’re freezing.  You’ll take a shower here.”  Taking her hand, I lead her into the bedroom, feeling how she hesitates at the door before continuing to follow me.  How she doesn’t seem to trust herself around me both excites and humbles me.  Opening the closet, I take a towel from the shelf, “I’ll find something for you to wear home while you’re showering.” 

   “If I fit into your clothing, then I am going to start ordering only salads,” she teases.

   “You’re beautiful, Emma.  Perfect.”  Pulling my eyes away from her, I turn on the bathroom light, “Nothing I have will fit you, but I’m sure I can find something that will work well enough to keep you warm until you’re in your own clothing.”

   Emma gives me a shy smile, “Thank you.”

   “Go, before you get sick,” I nudge her towards the shower before closing the door behind me.  The sound of the water turning on sends a jolt straight through me, engorging me to an almost unbearable state.  I want to join her in the shower, push her against the wall and take her until I have my fill.  Groaning, I step inside the large walk-in closet to see what I have that will work for Emma from the little clothing I keep here.  Shifting through my shirts and the drawers, I decide the only thing that will stay on her slender frame is athletic wear with drawstrings.  I’m not even sure they will stay up, which I’m perfectly fine with, but I’m sure Emma won’t be. 

   Laying the clothing on the bed, I call through the door, telling her that I will be in the shower down the hall so she can come out whenever she’s done.  Thoughts of relieving myself crosses my mind, but it would be a sorry second to Emma, so I do nothing, except suffer.  Stepping under the water, I turn it to almost scalding as I turn my face towards the spray, allowing the water to pour down my face and over the rest of me as I try to figure out what the hell I’m going to do about the woman in my shower.

   Several minutes later, Emma’s standing in the middle of the living room when I step into the hall.  My chest tightens while I watch her as she looks around the room, not yet seeing me.  She looks so lost and fragile even though I now know she’s anything but weak.  My shirt swallows her.  She has it knotted at the side somehow, and my pants hit the floor despite them being rolled a few times at her waist.  Her long chestnut hair cascades in waves, falling more than halfway down her back.

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