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Traded(61)

By:rebecca brooke


I claimed her.

And with each passing moment she slowly tempered, her lips molding to mine, her body going limp in the seat. I broke away.

“I want you to be so much more than a temporary distraction. It’s why I’ve done everything I can to bring out the real Elena—the one who stands up for herself. I want you to make your own choices. I want you to choose me. I don’t care how you came to me, I just want you.”

She stared at me for a beat then left the car, walking into the house, leaving the door wide open. I went to follow but was stopped by the purring rumble of Brock’s ’69 Chevelle SS. I climbed out and leaned against my door, needing the conversation with Brock over and done with.

“Ashton, what’s up man? It’s not like you to call out of the blue.”

“Drake Palmer has become a problem,” I growled.

“You had a drop tonight?” His brows dropped down over his, dark, almost black eyes.

“No.” I began to pace the driveway. “Fucker approached us outside the movie theater.”

“Shit. Wait—us? Elena was with you?”

“Unfortunately, because not only did the asshole bring up business in public, he also made it very clear he knew about my deal with Tolley.”

“What the fuck?” Brock’s shoulders rolled back like he was bracing for a fight. “You want me to handle this?” The drop in tone of his voice signaled he was done talking unless I reined him in.

“I want you to go have a chat with Palmer. Make it clear he’s one tiny slip up away from spending months not hours in the hospital, and if that happens, it’ll be me who deals with him. While you’re there, find out who told him about the deal.”

“Who else besides us and Tolley knows?”

“No one. I know it was that prick, but I need to know how far that shit’s spread. Elena is pissed and I don’t like that. The other thing I don’t like is weak little piss-ants like Palmer thinking they can buy time by pimping out their girlfriends. Before you know it, every one of them will have some ridiculous reason why they can’t pay and offer something equally as stupid. We can’t have that shit.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Brock crossed his arms over his massive chest, a move design to intimidate, but I knew better. “You sure she’s strong enough for this? I know I said I thought she was tough, but maybe—”

“Back the fuck off,” I warned. “I’ve had enough shit tonight.”

The more I thought about that fucker running around claiming he pulled one over on me, the more I wanted to hunt his ass down. But I had bigger things to deal with.

“I’ll deal with this asshole,” Brock said, backing up toward his car. “You should go deal with Elena.”

“Fuck!” I took a few deep breaths trying to calm down. “Stop by tomorrow with an update.”

“Will do,” he walked back to his car.

I watched Brock pull out of the drive. He’d get the results I needed. Drake Palmer would soon learn what happened to people who didn’t pay their debts and ran their mouths off.

Throwing the door open, I sent it crashing into the frame. Angry didn’t describe how I felt about the night being ruined by that little prick. None of it was Elena’s fault, yet she was the one upset. I needed to talk to her; needed to explain. Before I climbed those stairs I needed to calm the fuck down.



* * *



A couple of shots of whiskey later, I climbed the stairs. Even though I knew we’d have to have it out eventually, my time downstairs had given me an idea. When I reached the top of the landing, I heard the shower in my room running.

At least she hadn’t gone back to the guest room.

Hoping to catch her when she got out, I peeled off my clothes and went to the table next to the bed. My goal was to make her forget for a little while. To soften her up so we could talk this shit out.

It was time to introduce Elena to some of my more exotic tastes in the bedroom.

Grabbing the items I wanted, I lay them on the table and covered them with a small towel. The second the water turned off, I went to the door of the bathroom and threw it open.

“Ashton,” she screamed, pulling the towel tighter to her body.

Before she could say another word, I backed her against the vanity. Sinking my hands into her hair, I let the taste of her lips wash over me, the kiss igniting a burning heat throughout my body, the simple act of my tongue gliding into her mouth only a small representation of what I planned on doing to her later.

Needing air, I broke the kiss and leaned back to take in the flush that had worked its way up her body and onto her cheeks. The towel lay on the floor, forgotten. In one swift motion, I scooped her into my arms.