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Ashes - Book 1
Ashes - Book 1 Read online
Leslie Johnson
Copyright © 2015 Leslie Johnson
Published By: Atrevida Publishing
Table of Contents
Book Description
Chapter 1 – Beth
Chapter 2 – Beth
Chapter 3 – Gage
Chapter 4 – Beth
Chapter 5 - Gage
Chapter 6 – Beth
Chapter 7 – Gage
Chapter 8 – Beth
Chapter 9 - Gage
Chapter 10 – Beth
Chapter 11 – Gage
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Atrevida Publishing
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are all made up in my mind. In other words, nothing is to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
© 2014 Leslie Johnson
Published by: Atrevida Publishing
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Book Description
She’s the wind. He’s the fire. Both are independent, hot headed, and strong. Neither want a relationship or to be tied down in any way. But outside forces have other ideas.
When Beth is confronted by an old demon, she can’t imagine the danger she’s in. She’s too stubborn to ask for help, but will she have a choice? How do they fight an evil that can’t be seen or understood?
Don’t miss the first book in the Stoking the Embers steamy spin-off series, Ashes. If you loved Beth and Gage in Stoking the Embers, see what happens next in Ashes, a five book romantic suspense series.
Chapter 1 – Beth
Sitting on the blanket, the sun filters down on me through the trees. The warmth seeps into my bones; not too hot. Pleasant. It’s beautiful here by the waterfall. So peaceful. Majestic and powerful, yet oddly humbling at the same time. Just the sound of the water roaring off the edge, crashing into the pool a hundred feet below, soothes my soul.
I lie back on the blanket and turn onto my side, watching Gage swim through the bubbling cauldron of the pool, his bronzed arms slicing through the water with force and grace. He’s at the edge, and pulls himself up onto the shelf of rock. My stomach tightens as his body is revealed. Shoulders, chest, abs, then the thin swimming trunks that hang low on his hips, molding against his sex.
Meeting my eyes, he walks — stalks — directly toward me. He’s like a panther. Black hair, sun bronzed skin, olive eyes. Beautiful, sleek body striding across the uneven rocks with ease.
I turn onto my back as he gets closer, shading my eyes from the sun with my hand. He stands over me and shakes his head. I laugh as ice cold water droplets cascade down, soothing my heated flesh. He sinks to his knees, straddling me, and I hold my breath.
I try to sit up, not liking being this vulnerable, but he places a hand on my chest and holds me in place. “Trust me,” he says. I can’t. Can I? I blow out a breath and meet his eyes again. I lower myself onto the blanket once more, giving him my tentative answer.
He reaches for the wine bottle we’d opened earlier with our picnic. I love beer, but sometimes a bit of grape hits the spot … especially good grape. He pours a glass and then picks up a strawberry, dipping it into the red liquid. Hovering the berry over my lips, he waits and watches as a drop of the wine falls into my eager mouth. Then he offers the fruit and I sink my teeth into its juicy flesh. His nostrils flair and he brings the rest of the berry to his lips to finish. I wish it was me he was biting.
He sips the wine, then holds it down and I raise my head just enough to sip as well.
“More?” he asks. I nod and he feeds me again. Two strawberries later, the wine is gone and he sets the empty glass to the side. He leans over me, his hands on either side of my face. He’s staying above me, but not yet holding me down.
“I won’t hurt you,” he says, then dips down to touch his lips to mine. I want to trust him; I want to have faith. It’s just so difficult and I feel hot, frustrated tears prick the back of my eyes.
I say nothing, just look at his lips, willing him to kiss me again. He dips down again, this time placing his weight on his elbows. I focus on his eyes, not the feeling of being trapped. I lift my face and press my lips to his.
Slowly, with upmost caution, he lowers his weight until our bodies touch. Our mouths fuse with a passion that curls my toes. I put everything into the kiss, all my attention, all of my heart.
When his weight presses me further into the blanket, I can’t do it. “No. Please. Let me up.”
He rolls off immediately. The moment is gone and I hate myself. I hate the fear that still controls me on some deep and primal level.
“I’m sorry,” I say as I roll onto his chest, needing his warmth. He pulls me until I’m completely on top of him and pushes my hair back from my face.
“It’s okay,” he says and curls my hair around his fist until it’s tight against the back of my head. When he pulls, I can’t help it. I moan. He lets go my hair and runs his fingers along my scalp, massaging the tension away. “I’ll take you however I can get you.” I trace a thumb across his thick eyebrow, pushing away the last trace of water before I dip my head and take his lips.
I give him what I can, how I can, the best I can, curling my tongue around his. I press my hips into his stomach, wishing I were taller so I could grind into his erection. I pull my head up and look around. There’s no one here but us.
“Fuck me,” I say.
He smiles, revealing perfectly white teeth, a stark contrast against his tanned skin. “However I want?”
I stare down at him, wishing I could say yes. When I say nothing, his smile fades just a little before he adds, “Then you fuck me.”
I smile back. I can do that.
Sliding down his body, I pull his swimming trunks down his legs. His cock springs free, long and thick, making my mouth water. I want to taste him. I want to take him deep into my throat. I crawl up his body, licking up his inner thigh, up the center of his balls and up the throbbing, pulsing vein on his beautiful cock.
I can barely hear his moan over the roar of the falls, but I feel every muscle inside him flex as I take him into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the head, tasting the clear drops that glisten there. I take a breath and open my throat. I want it all.
His hands leave my hair and fumbles with the strings of my bikini. In seconds, he’s tossing it away.
“You’ve got to stop,” he says, his voice a harsh rasp. I don’t, I suck him harder, loving the way I’m causing him to lose control. I want him inside me, but I want this too. I straddle his thigh and press down, grinding my sex into his tight muscle. He lifts his leg, pressing back, giving me the pressure I need.
I move harder, faster, my head bobbing up and down, my hips grinding and pressing against his thigh. He groans and sits up, pulling me up too, lifting me as easily as he would a child. He straddles me across his hips and crushes his lips to mine. Only my bikini bottoms are between us. I press down, feeling his hard cock between my aching center.
“I want to come inside you,” he growls against my lips just as the first fat droplets of water fall from the sky.
“Oh no,” I say, laughing, looking up at the now cloud covered sky. What happened to our beautiful day?
Gage says nothing, just takes advantage of my exposed neck. His hands palm my breasts, then twists the nipples. I’m pulled away from my concern of the approaching storm as the mixture of pain and pleasure tea
rs through me. That quickly, I’m pulled back into our sensual world.
I’ve always wanted to have sex in the rain, and never had the opportunity, or the guts to give it a try. Rain is cascading over us. We’re soaking wet, the rain coming down hard, cool against my burning flesh.
I need him. Want him. Desire him so badly. I stand, my feet still on either side of his thighs and slide the rest of my bikini down my legs. He reaches up and grabs my hips, pulling me to him. Then his mouth is there, between my legs, his tongue gliding out and circling my clit. I bite my lip to keep from screaming.
I reach down and steady myself, sinking my fingers in his hair and spread my legs wider. He takes advantage and pulls me tighter against his face. His tongue is joined by his fingers and suddenly I’m filled. I cry out and press down on the invaders, impaling myself, riding everything he gives me.
Lifting my face to the sky, I allow the rain to wash my skin. I’m going to come — I’m so close — then two fingers are joined by a third. I’m so full, and his fingers move inside me so fast, thrusting and curling. His tongue continues to ravish my clit.
I explode, everything inside me tightening and trembling. If he wasn’t holding me up, I would have fallen. Slowly, I sink down and am straddling him again. My lips are on his, tasting him, tasting me. Tasting the rain that continues to pour down on us.
He reaches into the picnic basket and pulls out a condom, ripping the package apart with his teeth. I move backward down his thighs and watch him roll it down his length. His long fingers moving down his cock. Mmm, my mouth waters again.
The sky rumbles and we both look up. A flash, then another rumble vibrates through my bones.
“We should go,” he says, looking back at me, his mouth tight, his pupils nearly eclipsing the green of his gorgeous eyes.
He’s right. We should. But I press against him again, hovering just above his waiting cock. Steam has begun to surround us and I look at it in wonder, a result of cool rain on our heated skin. I feel cocooned and safe within the embrace of nature.
I drop my hand between us and wrap it around his shaft, blinking through the rain and watch his face as I lower myself down his cock. Inch by inch, he slides inside, stretching me, filling me, going deep.
He crushes me against his chest and in a single thrust, I’m impaled. He holds me tightly in that position, pure heat between my legs. His mouth takes mine, his fingers digging into my ass.
He lifts me and forces me back down hard into his lap. I gasp and kiss him harder. I love it when he gets rough.
Slowly, he lifts me again, then slides me down him much slower. I love it when he’s tender too. My fingers travel from his shoulders to his arms, feeling the muscles contract and relax as he lifts me over and over again. His strength is incredible. His endurance overwhelming. I hold on, enjoying the ride.
He lets go of my ass, allowing me to choose the rhythm. I begin to gently rise and fall, relishing the movement and friction. My hands are in his hair, we’re looking into each other’s eyes, and I watch the rain stream down his beautiful face. I lean in and lick the water away, allowing it to stream over my tongue. I’m deeply moved by the beauty of what we’re doing and my throat tightens with emotion. I swallow it away and kiss him again.
Another rumble of thunder, louder this time, startles me. I gasp in surprise and alarm, looking up. The sky has darkened further, the wind picking up speed. I pick up my own pace as well. Up and down. Up and down I pound onto him harder. I’m close. He is too. His hands are back on my hips, moving me, impaling me at an impossible speed.
The sky crashes again and so do I, my entire body rocked with the violence of my orgasm. The intensity tears a scream from my lips.
Gage roars out his own release, his face in my wet hair, his fingers digging into my skin. He’s trembling and holding me so tight I almost lose air. I gasp and he loosens his hold just a bit.
As we both grow still, he kisses me again. “That was so beautiful,” I whisper against his lips, feeling him continue to pulse inside me. I don’t want to go. Never want to leave this lovely oasis.
He smiles and traces his tongue along the curve of my lower lip before kissing his way to my ear. He bites on the lobe and then licks down my jawline, then up the center of my cheek.
“Stop.” I laugh and try to pull away. “What are you doing?” He licks me up the side of the face again. “Yuck. Stop.” I try to pull away once again.
He’s lapping me, long, broad strokes up my cheek. “Gage, what the …?” His tongue slides across my mouth and up the center of my nose. I turn my head. “Stop!” I yell and push him away, turning my head.
The licking stops and I’m swatted on my nose. Once. Twice. Then something lands on my chest.
I open my eyes and a blue eyed fuzz ball swats at my nose again. Then a black streak pounces and, in a mass of dog and cat playfulness, they go streaking from my bed.
I wipe the slobber off my cheek and groan. Doggy kisses first thing in the morning have somehow turned into my alarm clock. I glance at my phone. Sure enough, it’s a minute until seven in the morning. Onyx should be the mascot for Rolex and I really need to remember to shut my door at night.
Stretching, I think back to the dream Onyx and Ghost so rudely interrupted. Gage. Wet from the waterfall. Hovering over me. In me. I smile and stretch again, before frowning. I know he’s getting frustrated with me. That I’ll only allow sex with me on top. But … he either accepts me that way, or …
Or what?
It’s not like we have a relationship. I can see anyone else I want. But I have fun with him. I’m comfortable with him. I don’t want it to stop.
It’s been over a week since I last saw him. My stomach tightens and I want him again. Picking up my phone, my thumbs fly over the keys. FWB alert. You down for Friday night? I hit send.
Seconds later, the alarm on my phone begins its incessant chime. I stretch one last time before hauling my ass out of bed.
Chapter 2 – Beth
An hour later, I’m showered, dressed for work and make my way into the kitchen. My roommate, Stephanie, is setting down bowls of kibble for Onyx and Ghost. She looks up and smiles brightly, her face glowing in a radiance that hasn’t dimmed over the past eight months. Her fiancé, Ken, spent the night, but has already gone to work his shift at the fire hall.
“Starve the devil beasts,” I say, but rumple Onyx on her black head. I don’t dare touch Ghost while he’s eating or I’ll end up with a handful of claws. As big a pain as they can sometimes be, I love these two pets as much as if they were my own. My ‘niece’ and ‘nephew’ — a black Labrador retriever and long hair something or other cat, both five months old, gifts to Stephanie from Ken, her fiancé.
“Oh no, did they wake you up again? You really need to shut your door.”
Before I can respond with a wise ass remark, she flips the switch to the blender and our morning green smoothies whir to life. Stephanie wiggles her eyebrows at me. I wiggle mine back. We know each other too well. She’s way too polite to tell me to shut up.
When all is quiet again, I look at my phone to see if I missed a text from Gage. Nothing. Nada. I sigh and set the damn phone back down. I hate to wait. Hate the unknown. If I could teleport myself to him right now and force an answer, I would.
“Expecting a call?” She grins at me and hands me a large glass of deliciousness that unfortunately looks like baby poop. I frown at her and take a large gulp. Yum, she’s added extra pineapple, just the way I like it.
“Just hoping for a little FWB love this weekend, that’s all.” I frown at my phone again.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Isn’t it past time you two go beyond ‘friends with benefits’?” She air quotes the words. “It’s okay to call it a date, you know.”
I wrinkle my nose. “No way. Date smells too much like relationship. Especially if you do it more than once.” I wiggle my brows again. “And I absolutely want to do it more than once with him.”
She grins at
me, not the least bit shocked at my crude answer. We are closer than sisters and tell each other everything.
“Beth, it’s obvious to everyone in the entire solar system that you and Gage are perfect together. Stop being an asshole and accept it.”
I widen my eyes and feign a bright smile. “You’re right. We’re perfect fuck buddies, so I’m not going to screw it up by getting all emotional and shit.” I take another large sip. “Speaking of fucking, do you know where the closest waterfall is? I had the most fantastic dream …”
At eight-thirty, I pull into the parking lot of HEAL — Healing Exploitation through Acceptance and Love — a center Stephanie and I created to support victims of sexual assault and exploitation.
I seldom cry. I hate crying, detest how vulnerable it makes me feel, but nearly every time I pull into this parking lot and look at the lovely brick building, I feel the back of my eyes grow hot.
I met Stephanie during my freshman year of college and at first, I thought she was the worst dorm-mate ever. I’d begged my dad to rent me an apartment, but he’d told me no, he and my mom wanted me on campus where I was ‘safe’. Plus, my dad took great pleasure in reminding me that freshmen were required to live on campus their first year, and even his generous donations to the college each year wouldn’t change that rule.
The first time I’d walked into the dorm room, I’d nearly puked in disappointment. It was tiny, smaller than my walk-in closet back home. Two tiny twin beds, two tiny desks. Thankfully, there was a private, although minuscule, bathroom. If I’d had to use community showers, I would have died and run screaming from the building. As it was, I’d showered wearing flip-flops the first several weeks.
My saving grace was my hope that I’d have an awesome dorm mate. Instead of the girl I’d dreamed of, I’d been thrown together with this quiet, mousy girl who barely ever spoke.
We almost instantly hated each other.
Stephanie dressed in the most god awful clothes and walked with her shoulders slumped and her head down almost all the time. She was so weird and lived with a book in front of her face. She’d have panic attacks over nothing, but never ask for help. Like I said … weird. After trying to talk to her, I simply gave up and made other friends who enjoyed partying as much as I did.