Try as I might, I couldn’t find my dress or underwear. They were gone. Casting another glance around, something on the end of the bed caught my attention: a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt.
The room was quiet. No body next to mine in the large bed. No running water coming from the bathroom. Ashton must have collected the clothes for me then gone downstairs. The thoughtful nature of his gesture left me with a warm feeling in my stomach; one that I relished.
I leaned back against the intricately carved headboard, pulling the sheets up and over my body, catching sight of the faintly reddened skin at my wrists, the memories of the silk tie sliding up my skin, connecting me to the bars, rushing forward. Clenching my thighs against the onslaught of need, I grabbed my clothes and went into the bathroom to shower. The bathroom was bigger than the one attached to my room—twice the size of a normal bathroom. With a huge tub in the corner and a glass stall shower next to it, I was torn between which to use, knowing the shower would be quicker and easier, but a nice soak would ease the ache in my tired muscles. My thoughts returned to the man downstairs.
Quick and easy it is.
I turned on the water, setting my clothes on the counter. There, next to the sink, was a toothbrush. At first I thought it might be Ashton’s, but realized that his was in the holder next to the other sink.
He put that there for me.
Grabbing the toothpaste, I brushed my teeth and hopped into the shower, the warm water running down my body, loosening my muscles. All of the ways Ashton had touched me last night were better than any sex I could remember. The second I gave control over to him, we both assumed our roles; slipping into character, our bodies synchronized as we played our parts to perfection.
I’d been told what to do by a man for most of my adult life and I’d hated it. But last night was different. Every command, every direction, ramped up my desire. His commands were short, direct, but there was no edge of malice, no ulterior motive. And in the end, it hadn’t just been about him. Ashton had given.
And given.
And given.
Despite the heat of the water, goose bumps peppered my skin at the memory.
Wondering where he might be, I finished my shower and dressed quickly, checking myself over in the mirror before I went in search of him. Reaching the landing, I smelled breakfast and my stomach growled its appreciation. Following my nose, I found him at the stove, flipping bacon and stirring eggs, his pants hanging low on his hips but he wore no T-shirt, the muscles of his broad shoulders on view.
“Good morning.”
His head snapped around and in the blink of an eye, the utensils were placed on the counter and Ashton was standing in front of me.
“Good morning,” he whispered, tipping my chin up for a kiss.
The second his lips grazed mine my body pressed against him, loving the feeling of the bare skin of his chest against my hands. His tongue plunged into my mouth and I could taste the coffee that lingered on his lips. The kiss was fleeting and he pulled back, breathless.
“It’s an even better morning than I thought.” He smirked, taking my hand in his and leading me to the table.
“I think I have to agree.” I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth, not sure what else to say.
He groaned and used his thumb to pull my lip free. “If anyone gets to bite that lip, it’s me.”
My blood heated and I tried to get control of my thoughts. “Ashton,” I whispered.
“My name on your lips is one of my favorite sounds. Now sit while I get breakfast, then we can talk.”
Ashton wants to talk about last night.
To keep my hands from shaking, I moved them under my thighs until a cup of coffee appeared before me, providing the perfect distraction. I picked up the cup and let the strong brew take away my fears—for a moment anyway.
Ashton placed plates with eggs, bacon, and toast in front of us, taking the seat next to me. Avoiding eye contact, I added pepper to my eggs and concentrated heavily on picking my fork up off of the table.
“Elena, you’re nervous. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Taking a deep breath in and letting it out in a long puff, I glanced up at him. “You said you wanted to talk and I’m nervous about why.”
He shook his head. “You don’t ever need to be nervous with me. I do want to talk about a few things, including last night.”
“Okay.” My eyes darted back to my food, stabbing a piece of egg to start eating.
“Last night was . . .” I waited to hear how he would describe it.
Mistake.
Okay.
I’ve had better.
They all popped into my head.
“Incredible.”
My gaze snapped to his, my eyes wide and my jaw hanging low.
He covered my thigh with his hand, massaging gently. “You need to move your stuff into my room.”