“No, I want you to lie to me,” I say sarcastically.
“It’s simple. Take him up on his offer… give him all your orgasms.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
“Let me guess, Kyle Sanders,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Listen, Em…” She reaches for my hand across the table. “You know I’d never force you into doing anything you’re not comfortable with, but seriously, it’s time to let your past go. You’ve given that fuckwit and his little-boy dick way too much of your life. You’re not in high school anymore, babe. He’s taken enough of you already. Sure, Ashton is hot, but he’s not Kyle. You’re a grown-ass woman, live like one. Take life by the horns and ride that hottie’s face like your life depends on it. Don’t look at it as any more than a good time. If you go into this without any expectations, you’re not going to get hurt. Enjoy it for what it is. Two consenting adults relishing in each other’s bodies. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Because it is, Em. Strip out of your clothes, spread those ridiculously long legs of yours, and say, ‘Come and get it, big-boy.’”
We both burst out laughing. She has such a way with words.
“Think about it, babe. He’s gorgeous, like ridiculously hot, and from what little Grayson has told me about him, he’s mega-rich.”
“Money means nothing to me,” I say.
“I know, but you’re missing the point here. He could have any woman he wants, but he wants you.”
I sit there and ponder Carla’s advice as we wait for our food to arrive. She’s right about one thing. I have let my past dictate my future. For once, I’d just like to let all my baggage go, even for a moment, and experience all the things I’ve been missing out on.
Like mind-blowing orgasms.
It’s not like I want to marry him. Would it hurt to give into my deep-seated desires? If he can make love anything like he can kiss, it would be mind-blowing.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when my phone dings again.
My ridiculously hot friend: I swear to God, Emma. Open this damn door. You better not be in post-orgasmic slumber from that fake silicone fucker.
“Oh my God,” I say, placing my hand over my mouth to muffle my giggle.
Carla snatches the phone out of my hand and laughs when she reads the latest message. She instantly starts typing a reply.
“Show me what you’re writing before you send it this time.” I don’t want to make things worse than they already are.
“Oops. Too late,” she says before handing back the phone to me.
Sweet-thing: Sorry, I can’t let you in because I’m not home. I’m out buying new batteries. Lots and lots of batteries. Poor Elijah… I must have worn that fake silicone fucker out.
I can’t take it back now, it’s already been sent and read.
Shit.
I do the only thing I can, I laugh.
It’s been a long week. I’ve had no contact with Ashton—nothing, no messages or phone calls. When I finally got back to my apartment after my late lunch with Carla, he’d left. And I haven’t heard from him since. To say that bothers me is an understatement. I even thought about sending him an apology for taking things too far, but in the end, I decided against it. He started this silly game in the first place.
Today, it’s Sinful-Saturday.
I park Kitty around the corner from ‘For Heaven’s Cake.’ That’s the name of the bakery I get my Jelly donuts from. The irony that I go to heaven to commit my first sin for the day once a month is not lost on me.
I arrived a little earlier than usual, but as I drove down the street looking for a parking space, I noticed the long line already forming.
After my mishap with Ashton last month, I’m eager to get my jelly-donut fix. I can’t believe it was four weeks ago today when we met. Part of me hopes I’ll run into him again, but I know that’s not going to happen. I had my chance with him, and I blew it. It’s funny, I fought him the entire way, but now that the opportunity’s gone, I’m kicking myself. I want to bask in all the amazing orgasms he offered to give me.
My head is cast downward as I round the corner and make my way toward the end of the line. I don’t get far when I hear a deep voice clear their throat. My eyes shoot up, and there standing before me is the object of my thoughts.
“Still not watching where you’re going, I see,” he says, smiling. “I thought you would’ve learned your lesson last time, sweet-thing.”
I stand there for a moment, shell-shocked. What is he doing here? And why does he have a mountain of white pastry boxes in his hand?
“Hi,” I breathe, trying to hold back the smile that threatens to burst onto my face. It’s so good to see him.
“Hi.”
“I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Someone told me how delicious the jelly donuts are here, so I thought I better check them out for myself.” He raises the boxes in his hand as he speaks.
“That’s an awful lot, are you having a party or something?”
“Or something,” he says.
We stand there in silence for a moment, possibly longer, staring at each other. All those familiar feelings I get when he’s near come bubbling to the surface.
My hands fiddle at my sides as I think of something to say. “Well, I probably should line up before they sell out.”
No, that’s not it. Tell him you want orgasms.
“Unfortunately, they’ve already sold out of the jelly ones.” Ashton raises the boxes again.
“You bought all the jelly donuts?”
“Every single one.” My eyes narrow. How could he? “Before you get pissed at me, Em, I bought them for you.” He extends the boxes toward me.
“You bought them all for me?”
“Yes, but there’s a condition.”
“Of course, there is,” I grumble.
“Can we go somewhere and maybe get a coffee?”
“To discuss your condition?”
“No, that’s my condition,” he says. “I just want to spend some time with you.”
“You do?” That surprises me. I was certain his conditions would include delicious orgasms.
A girl can dream.
“I’ve missed you.”
“You have?”
“Yes. Are you saying you haven’t missed me?”
I fight a smile as I try to think of a clever reply, but I come up with nothing. The truth is I have missed him.
“I’ve been busy,” I say, shrugging.
“With Elijah?” His brows furrow, making me laugh.
“Yeah, he’s been occupying a lot of my time,” I lie. He’s still sitting unused inside the box he came in.
My grin widens when he growls. “You know that fucker is going to die a slow, painful death when I get my hands on him, right?”
“You’ll have to get your hands on him first,” I tease.
“You can count on it. Enjoy him while you can, sweet-thing, because his death is imminent.”