Traded(54)

He held me captive with a glance and lifted his hand to caress my face. “I like waking up next to you.”

The second the words passed his lips, I melted into his touch. “Me too.”

Thoughts of more mornings like this paraded through my head. If only the situation wasn’t temporary. Ashton called to me on a level no man ever had. A dream: that’s what staying with him was. Then again, I never thought I’d be on stage, singing the way I’d always wanted to. Dreams could come true, when you got yourself out of a bad situation.

His finger caressed my rapidly hardening nipples and despite all that we’d done thus far, here in the bright light of day, I wanted to hide my nakedness from his gaze. His touch was simple, yet exposing. Without the heat of the moment, my confidence deserted me.

“Don’t be shy. Not after last night.”

I broke the connection of our eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

His hand continued its ministrations while the other slipped around my nape. “You do, but there’s a million things I want to show you,” he said against my lips, before taking possession of them in a heated kiss.

Our tongues danced until we needed to breathe. Ashton lifted his head to watch me. “Your first rehearsal is today, right?”

“Yeah.” I peeked over at the clock. “I have about an hour and a half until I have to be there.”

“I’d start right now, but I don’t want you to be late.”

I attempted to sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed but Ashton pushed me back down.

“Stay here,” he demanded, standing and pulling on a pair of track pants. “I’m going to bring you breakfast. You’re going to relax until you have to get ready.”

He didn’t give me a chance to argue. Spinning on his heel, he darted out of the room and down the stairs.

The problem with lying alone in the silence was that it gave me too much time to think. My mind wandered back to earlier in the morning.

Am I falling for Ashton?

No. It wasn’t possible. My emotions must stem from convenience. He was showing me a better life, filling me with confidence, renewing my dreams. It was normal to feel some gratitude toward him. That was what I was feeling.

Gratitude.

If that were the case, then why did my heart lift when I saw him? In fact, I didn’t even have to see him. Just seeing a text from him was enough for that fluttery feeling to take over my stomach. As soon as I knew he was on his way home, I couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

I tucked my hand underneath the pillow, pulling the sheets up over my shoulders, but I knew there was no way I’d be able to sleep.

Thoughts, feelings, thoughts about feelings; they all ran through my head.

Within moments I was kicking off the sheets, my temperature spiking and falling at a rate whereby it was near impossible to get comfortable. I pulled myself up, my back against the headboard, and let out an audible sigh, thankful that Ashton was far enough away for him not to hear because if he did then he would surely question it. There was a word that kept taunting me, teasing me with its significance, dancing around in the back of my mind so that I was unable to ignore it, yet unable to justify its use given the newness of whatever Ashton and I had.

It was an unusual situation; one I hadn’t even considered. And that was scary. There had to be another word for this.

There had to.

I needed to find a way to deal with Ashton without giving my thoughts away. He couldn’t know that I’d even considered the possibility. I didn’t need pity. Since leaving Dominic I’d worked really hard to push and become someone stronger.

I heard Ashton coming down the hall and did my best to school my features, sitting up in the bed, pulling the sheet tighter around my chest.

“Tsk, tsk. I’d love to watch those breasts as you eat.”

He set the tray in front of me and dipped his finger into the hollow between my breasts, slowing pulling the sheet away. I felt exposed and sexy all at the same time—something only Ashton had ever made me feel.

Needing to focus on something other than his hands, I looked at the tray, noticing that he’d made me his special omelet. Ashton picked up the fork and slid it into my fingers, which was strangely erotic. Picking up a piece of the omelet, his eyes followed the path the fork took all the way to my mouth. A groan escaped him as the fork left my lips.

“Shit, watching you eat like that is incredibly fucking sexy.” He reached down to adjust himself. “I’m going to do my best to keep my hands to myself and let you eat, but I make no guarantees because right now I want to flip you over and fuck you until neither of us can move.”