Blood in the Water(102)

“An accident. Who’s hurt? Daddy? Dean? We need to go.”



He held her more tightly, trying to quell the panic he could feel surging through her.



“We don’t need to go. It’s too late. Beauty, your brother, Dean... he came off his bike in the rain. His neck broke.”



“He’s at St Raphael’s? Is he paralyzed? My god, we have to get there!”



He wrapped both arms around her. “No beauty. It’s too late. He’s dead.”



“No. No.” She stuttered. “He can’t be.” She shook her head frantically and he held her tighter.



“I’m sorry beauty. It was quick. There was nothin’ any of us could do.”



“No. Nooo. No.” She was beating his chest with her fists despite the firm hold he had on her. “He can’t be dead. Where’s my daddy? You’re lyin’.”



“Your daddy’s at the clubhouse tellin’ your momma. I’ll take you there tomorrow, beauty. We need to give them a little time.”



“No. I don’t believe you. He’s not dead. He can’t be.”



Paul grabbed her head in both of his palms, his hands dwarfing her face as he made her look at him. “Beauty. Your brother is dead and he ain’t ever comin’ back. I’m sorry.” He hated having to be so blunt but he needed to get through to her somehow.



Her crystal blue eyes glistened. A single tear rolled out of one eye and down her cheek, then another, then both eyes, then faster and faster. The news seemed to finally penetrate fully, and Ashleigh collapsed against him, sobbing.



Paul held her tightly to him, feeling more impotent and helpless than he ever had in his life. He kissed the top of her head, only needing to let her know that he was there. His cock began to stir and harden. He couldn’t help it, she had been naked beneath the covers and his body didn’t recognize her mourning, but he tried to will it down. She needed comfort, not that.



She turned her flushed, tear-stained face up to his. He pressed a soft kiss on her swollen lips, then another. One was not enough. He needed her to know... he would do anything to take the pain away. He kissed her again, but this time she kissed him back.



“Please.” Her voice was small and hoarse. “Make it not hurt anymore.”



He knew it was futile, but he would do anything she asked. If she had begged for the moon he would have found a way to pluck it from the sky without question. He kissed her again, deeper this time. Her whole body moved sinuously against his. She brushed against his cock, which turned to steel at her touch, but she didn’t flinch.



He couldn’t touch enough of her, his hands roamed over and over her perfect skin seemingly of their own will. Their bodies slid against each other and still it wasn’t enough. He felt crazed with the need of her. Judging by her erratic breathing and frantic movements she was feeling it, whatever it was, too. Paul rolled Ashleigh onto her back, needing to be in control, needing to make her feel... He wanted to fill his senses with her, to crowd out the grief and the anger with touch, smell and taste.



He began to move down her body, intending to bury his face in that so sweet part, but he felt her clutching at him, pulling him back up over her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him tightly to her. When she gave a small shake of her head he saw that she wanted to keep him close, he thought he understood that need.



Ashleigh flexed and her wet folds were rubbing along his cock which was aching with the need to be in her. He could feel on his sensitive skin that she was drenched and ready for him. He rested on his forearms to give her room to breathe without losing contact and then rocked his hips, sliding into her welcoming body.



He offered comfort and solace with every movement of his body, every thrust of his hips, and with every shift of her body she took it and demanded more. They were soon slick with sweat. It was so intimate, surging, flesh against flesh, so close they were almost breathing each other in. When he felt her scalding, silky sheath tighten he drove harder still into her body until the world exploded for both of them in a shower of stars. He didn’t let go, unwilling to let even a hairsbreadth of space between them. He only shifted so that Ashleigh wasn’t crushed under his weight, and then he held her as she cried.





Chapter Eighteen



It had been not quite two weeks since the night that Paul had arrived home and told her that her brother was dead. The autopsy had shown what those who had witnessed the accident suspected, that Dean’s neck had broken when he’d landed on the highway after losing control of his bike in the pouring rain.