Tagged & Ashed (The Sterling Shore Series #2) (24 page)

“What’s wrong?” I ask as soon as he pulls the phone down.

“The detective is here.”

Crap.

He turns around just as Troy opens the door, and in walks the stern-faced detective.

“I’m sorry to bother you so late, but we’ve just had something come to light.”

“Did you finally find Rene?  She was supposed to come back from Vegas a while ago.”

“Sorry, we believe someone must have tipped her off because she hasn’t returned home, and she has stopped using her credit cards.”

Tag tilts his head curiously.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because there has been something else come up that I need to speak with Ms. Branderwood about.”

Tag’s arm wraps around me very protectively.  With our celebration officially halted, Tag ushers him into the living area across the way.  He pulls me beside him on the couch as the detective sits across from us.

The others slowly retreat to a hiding place to give us some privacy, though I feel a little deserted.

“What’s this all about, Detective?” Tag asserts, his patience growing thin.

“I’ll be blunt.  Dyllan Mathews was discovered dead six months ago.”

What?

“Dyllan?” I ask, my voice crackling from surprise.

“That’s the guy…” Tag’s voice trails off, avoiding saying,
that’s the married guy you fucked.

“Yeah,” I
murmur wearily, still trying to wrap my mind around everything.

He tu
rns back to the detective.  “Why are you telling us about this now?”

“Because when we asked Ms. Branderwood about her exes, due to the stalking threat, she left out his name.  This is now twice we’ve been left in the dark or lied to.”

“She didn’t tell you about me being Trip’s father because she wanted to tell me first.  If I don’t hold it against her, you sure as hell shouldn’t.  She didn’t tell you about Dyllan because he’s irrelevant, especially now that you know it’s a female stalker, Rene Ballinger.”

“Mr. Masters, maybe you should step out.  I need to ask something rather personal pertaining to Dyllan Mathews's case.”

“No.  He’s staying.  He already knows everything there is to know,” I quickly insert, and Tag’s grip tightens on me.

The detective’s lips
thin to a line, and he leans forward.

“Ms. Branderwood, did you know he was dead?”

“No.  I haven’t heard from or spoken to him in a long time.”

“Why did you leave his name off your list then?”

“At the time I was dating him, he was married.  Quite frankly, the whole situation was humiliating.  That was all long before the stalking started, so I didn’t find it relevant.  I didn’t want my past mistake to hurt Tag’s newest business launch, since I’m in the tabloids more than him.”

 

***

Tag

 

She feels so guilty, and I’m ready to fucking punch this son of a bitch right in the face for putting her on the spot.  My hand tightens on her leg, and she shivers as she leans into me.

“Ms. Branderwood, I have to ask, are you sure you didn’t see or speak to him before his death?”

“No.  I have no reason to lie about it.  If he had called me, I would have put him on the list of possible suspects.  My child’s safety overrides a public image.”

She’s damn right about that.  Besides, it wouldn’t have ever hurt my image.  I hate knowing she had something like that on her mind.

“How did you even know about her affiliation with Dyllan?” I ask, suddenly curious how that stone was turned if no one really knew.

His lips thin, and then he pulls a newspaper article from his coat to hand to us.  I take it, and then I quickly skim over it.

“That son of a bitch!” Ash squeals.  “That’s why he was at Melanie's party.  It was never about you.  It was about going through me to get to you.”

I shake my head as I read the Chicago journalist’s bullshit.

Ashiara Branderwood isn’t merely a gold digger, as the tabloids state, she’s also a home wrecker and possibly a murderer.  Dyllan Mathews and his wife, Heidi Mathews, were perfectly happy until the seductress walked into his life.

After breaking up their home, she broke up with him.  Then, when questioned by the police during a supposed stalker incident where threats were allegedly made against her life, she left out his name from the pool of suspects, though they requested the names of all the men she had been romantically involved with.  This was before the police found the body of the man who had been missing for several weeks after his untimely death.  So why didn’t she mention him?

I believe it’s because she already knew he was dead.  Your opinion counts.  Vote black widow or gold digger at my blog.

“He essentially called her a murdering gold-digger in order to boost his ratings.  Unbelievable,” I huff, and then I pull out my phone.  “If you feel like pursuing some sniveling reporter’s bullshit line of questioning, then I’ll call my lawyer to speak with you from here on out, and I’ll see to it someone else gets put on this case.  Money buys you influence, Detective.  I’ve got a lot of both, and I refuse to let Ash be drug through the mud instead of protected from a psychopath.”

Her tears waver, but she refuses to let them fall as her hand tightens on mine.

“I’m just trying to get answers, Mr. Masters.  His phone was found on his body, and a week before he went missing, he dialed some of Ms. Branderwood’s old numbers numerous times.  I’ve requested the phone records to see if there was ever a conversation, but it proves he did try to contact her.  I’m giving her the opportunity to tell us what she knows.”

“I
know
I never spoke to him,” she growls, her anger winning over her tears.  “My number has changed more times than I can count.  I had to shut down my website for my business and use referrals only.  I had to change my email, work number, client meeting locations, and eventually, I had nothing left the same because I’m not
allegedly
being stalked, I am being stalked.

“I’ve been shot, stabbed, and forced to live like even more of a hermit than I already was.  You’re welcome to pull my phone records.  You don’t even need a search warrant.  I hope you’ll pass this case off to someone who will stop letting me get hurt once you realize what a major pain in the ass you are.”

I want to laugh or applaud.  I’m not sure which.  She stands up, thoroughly pissed, and then storms out of the room.

“You heard her.  Now you can go, Detective.  My lawyer will be in touch from now on.”

I stand up, and Troy walks over to escort the tightlipped detective out.

“I know you think this is an attack, but Dyllan Mathews had a family, too.  I’m just trying to give them closure.  That includes tracking down
all
leads and asking tough questions, whether I like it or not.”

“You’re the type who wants to make it better after the fact, Detective.  Considering I love Ash, I want someone on this case who wants to prevent the disaster.  Good luck on your witch hunt.  Until then, don’t come to my home without a warrant.”

He shakes his head, knowing damn well he’ll have to walk through red tape from now on just to talk to me.

I finally pull my phone to my ear, and I ask, “Did you hear all that?”

“Yeah.  I’m already working on it.  I’ll have a new detective on your case in no time, and the reporter will have a gag order placed, as well as a slander suit.  I read the article online as soon as you sent me the date.  He’ll be lucky to have any work when I’m done with him.”

“I knew I paid you a lot of money for something,” I murmur smugly to Frank, my very overpaid lawyer.

“Because I’m the best,” he jokes, and then I hang up to see Ash staring at me.

“You’re talking to a lawyer?  Do you think they’ll come after me for this?”

She looks terrified, and I do the only thing I want to do - hold her.  Her body trembles against mine, and I shake my head.

“They can try, but they won’t get past Frank.  You didn’t do anything, which means no evidence.  They’re going to need more than conspiracy theories from some random reporter to come after my girl.”

 

***

Ashiara

 

I’ve never felt as safe with anyone as I do him.

Everyone walks out, after having obviously eavesdropped, and they start chattering out their disbelief.

The only thing I’m focused on now is champagne and Tag.  Trip is in wonderful hands, so I’m going to drink away the crazy and enjoy the man who loves me.

“I don’t want to talk about it.  I just got engaged.  I want to be happy for one damn night.”

Everyone hushes, and Tag smiles as he walks away to pick my glass of bubbly back up.

“Then let’s get drunk and enjoy our night,” he says softly before kissing my forehead.

I smirk as I down the first glass, and then Erica quickly refills it as everyone avoids speaking about anything else dealing with drama.

“When’s the big day?” Billy chirps.

“As soon as Ash wants,” Tag says as he walks over to the couch and sits down while sipping his own glass of champagne.

“Well?” Wren prompts, and I swallow hard against my next big gulp of alcohol.

“However long it takes to plan a wedding, I guess,” I say with a smile, my eyes finding Tag’s.

He runs his hand over his lips, and then he motions for me to join him.  I oblige
without hesitation by falling onto his lap.

“I can plan a wedding in less than a week,” he whispers to only me, and I giggle lightly.

“I think I should let Melanie and my stepmom do it,” I chuckle.  “Melanie has been planning my wedding for years.”

He smiles softly, and then he sighs hard.

“You’ll call them tonight then?” he asks.

“First thing tomorrow.  Tonight I just want to be in your arms, celebrating.  By the way, your rule about no drunk chicks gets broken tonight, because I’m going to be unruly drunk.  There’s no way I’m going to want to hear
no.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes not leaving mine, and then he pulls me to where my elegant dress slides up more to straddle him.

“I’ve never had a real relationship, so I’ll bend my rules.  You just tell me what you want while you’re sober, and I’ll make it happen when you’re drunk.”

 

***

Tag

 

She smiles deviously, and my cock twitches from the scandalous dare in her eyes.  I swear I’d fuck her right now and not stop until morning.

She leans over, her lips brushing mine, and then her hand slides down my chest to the top of my pants, making me exhale loudly in need.

“Anything you want to do to me, that’s what I want.”

Fuck.

I just almost came.  I swear I found the perfect girl, and she loves me.

My lips collide with hers just as the others find their way back into the room, and Wren’s laughter sneaks free.

“Apparently, this celebration just got private.”

I smile against her velvet lips as I lean back to face him.

“Not yet, but soon.”

Ash giggles lightly, and I cup her ass in my hand while pulling her to meet my hips.  The others laugh and ignore our little display as Shannon brings a full bottle of opened champagne to us.

I quickly fill my girl’s glass again, almost pushing her to get drunk now that I won’t feel like I’m taking advantage.  I sip my own to do som
ething I’ve never done before—drunk sex.

It’s always intrigued me, but I was never in a relationship where I trusted myself or the other person enough to attempt it.  I would never be sleazy enough to take advantage of a girl like that, but Ash is sober and begging me to fuck her drunk. Ironically enough, I never have sex when I’m drunk because I’m worried about getting careless and getting a girl pregnant.

“I love you,” she murmurs before kissing my lips.

Those words leaving those soft, perfect lips still make my heart flip flop and damn near stop.

“I love you, Ashiara Branderwood.”

Overhearing our endearments, Bity flops down beside us and says, “It’s going to be weird to start calling you Ash Masters.”

My cock gets all the harder, and she responds by gripping my shoulders a little tighter.

My name on her sounds
so
hot, and I can’t wait until it’s hers.

“It’s going to be incredible,” I release through a very seduced strain.

“O…kay… gross,” Bity groans with a wrinkled nose, and then he disappears once the sexual tension between Ash and me grows to be too much for him.

“You drunk yet?” I whisper as she drinks the rest of the bottle.

“Drunk enough,” she says with a mischievous, fucking sexy-as-hell grin.

I rip her up, keeping her legs wrapped around my waist, and start carrying her away as the others chuckle lightly.  They wouldn’t be laughing if they felt what I feel.  No one has ever captured my breath the way Ash does.

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