Nothing Left to Lose
Page 75
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Waves of desire crashed over me; they were so powerful that I was surprised we were still standing. I moaned in the back of my throat and wrapped my arms tight around his neck, trying to get closer to him, tangling my fingers in his soft hair. When he nibbled on my lip, wanting to deepen the kiss, I kissed him with everything I had in me. The passion from the kitchen was spilling over as he ran his hands down my back, gripping fistfuls of my shirt, clamping me to him. A small moan escaped his lips that set my heart soaring.
I wanted him. I needed him. When Ashton’s mouth was on my body, everything felt right and whole again, like all of that awful stuff with Carter hadn’t happened. But the kiss didn’t seem enough for me, I wanted more. I wanted him to lavish attention on my body like he had done that one time at my parent’s house. I wanted him to make me feel like that special, beautiful girl that he looked at with those sultry eyes that shone with desire. My whole body ached for it.
By the time he pulled away, my head was spinning with need. He pressed his forehead against mine, still holding me against him as our breathing slowed to normal. His eyes that met mine were dancing with excitement too. He looked like he was fighting for control. I could see the conflict across his face; he wanted to drag me to the nearest supply closet too, just like I was silently envisioning.
“What was that for?” I whispered, raising my chin and brushing my nose against his softly.
He swallowed loudly as his hand slid down my back, coming to rest on the small of my back. “Just wanted everyone here to know that you’re mine.”
Mine. The word made a shiver of something run down my spine as I pressed myself closer to him. “Why don’t you just take me against the wall or something then with everyone watching?” I joked.
A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth as he dipped his head towards mine. “Gladly.” His lips met mine again, and I sagged against him in contentment. The kiss didn’t deepen though, it was just a little chaste kiss before he stepped back and ran his hand down my arm, taking my hand and interlacing our fingers. “We should get to class before we’re late.”
I swallowed the lust that had built inside me and nodded in agreement, letting him give me a gentle, little tug to get me moving again. Now that I was out of the little bubble that he seemed to create around me, I could see people watching us again. Clearly, being new and having a major make-out session in the middle of the hallway was drawing peoples’ interest. As we walked, I tried my best to ignore the stares and whispers. I cringed into Ashton’s side as a couple of guys let their eyes wander over me just that little too long.
Finally, after lots of twists and turns, he stopped outside a classroom. I peeked in, seeing people already sitting on desks, chatting amongst themselves as they waited for lessons to start. The teacher was perched on the edge of her desk, sipping coffee. I scanned her, making my estimations of how good she would be. She was thin and wearing all black and her brown hair, flecked with the occasional grey, was pulled back into a severe ponytail. If I had to guess, I would put her at mid-fifties. She looked friendly enough, and just the right amount of eccentric to teach art at college.
“Ready?” Ashton asked, squeezing my hand gently.
I gulped. “Not really.”
He chuckled and pulled me into the room and up to the teacher. Ashton cleared his throat. “Mrs Donovan?”
She turned and smiled, setting down her cup. “Good morning. You must be my new students,” she greeted.
Ashton nodded, and I let my gaze rake over the class. Most of the students were girls and all of them were now eyeing my near guard with undisguised lust. One of them was staring with an open mouth. My back stiffened as panic set in. What if Ashton wanted to hook up with one of these girls? What if he started to like one of them and wanted to bring her back to the apartment? How was I going to cope with that? Jealous anger and resentment settled in the pit of my stomach, and I felt the frown tug at my forehead.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Ashton, and this is my girlfriend, Anna.” He squeezed my hand so I looked up at him, seeing that he had one eyebrow raised in question.
I shook my head quickly, not wanting him to know that my mind was running rampant and thinking up scenarios where he fell in love and I had to watch it happen. I definitely didn’t want him to know about the jealousy that was eating me up inside because of it.
“You like Anna and not Annabelle?” the teacher inquired, her tone warm and welcoming.
I turned and forced a smile. “Yeah, Anna is fine.” My parents were the only ones who had ever called me Annabelle.
She nodded in acknowledgement and waved a bony hand towards two empty seats at the back of the classroom. “Take a seat, and then we can get started.” She clapped her hands and the whole room seemed to come to attention, ready to start the day, as Ashton and I wove to the empty seats at the back.
By the time the class was finished, my stomach was hurting from all the giggling. When Ashton had said that he couldn’t draw, I hadn’t thought he meant that all he could muster up was barely more than stick people. My cheek muscles were aching from smiling and laughing so much. I’d never seen anything so terrible, and it was lucky we were sat at the back so that no one else could see and ask what the heck he was doing in an art class. The teacher turned out to be quite nice though, and I actually had fun in class which wasn’t something I was used to.
As soon as the class ended, Ashton screwed up his paper into a ball and tossed it towards the trashcan, holding his hands up in celebration when it went straight in without touching the sides. “Three pointer,” he chirped, grinning. I chuckled at how childlike he was sometimes – it was incredibly cute.
I wanted him. I needed him. When Ashton’s mouth was on my body, everything felt right and whole again, like all of that awful stuff with Carter hadn’t happened. But the kiss didn’t seem enough for me, I wanted more. I wanted him to lavish attention on my body like he had done that one time at my parent’s house. I wanted him to make me feel like that special, beautiful girl that he looked at with those sultry eyes that shone with desire. My whole body ached for it.
By the time he pulled away, my head was spinning with need. He pressed his forehead against mine, still holding me against him as our breathing slowed to normal. His eyes that met mine were dancing with excitement too. He looked like he was fighting for control. I could see the conflict across his face; he wanted to drag me to the nearest supply closet too, just like I was silently envisioning.
“What was that for?” I whispered, raising my chin and brushing my nose against his softly.
He swallowed loudly as his hand slid down my back, coming to rest on the small of my back. “Just wanted everyone here to know that you’re mine.”
Mine. The word made a shiver of something run down my spine as I pressed myself closer to him. “Why don’t you just take me against the wall or something then with everyone watching?” I joked.
A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth as he dipped his head towards mine. “Gladly.” His lips met mine again, and I sagged against him in contentment. The kiss didn’t deepen though, it was just a little chaste kiss before he stepped back and ran his hand down my arm, taking my hand and interlacing our fingers. “We should get to class before we’re late.”
I swallowed the lust that had built inside me and nodded in agreement, letting him give me a gentle, little tug to get me moving again. Now that I was out of the little bubble that he seemed to create around me, I could see people watching us again. Clearly, being new and having a major make-out session in the middle of the hallway was drawing peoples’ interest. As we walked, I tried my best to ignore the stares and whispers. I cringed into Ashton’s side as a couple of guys let their eyes wander over me just that little too long.
Finally, after lots of twists and turns, he stopped outside a classroom. I peeked in, seeing people already sitting on desks, chatting amongst themselves as they waited for lessons to start. The teacher was perched on the edge of her desk, sipping coffee. I scanned her, making my estimations of how good she would be. She was thin and wearing all black and her brown hair, flecked with the occasional grey, was pulled back into a severe ponytail. If I had to guess, I would put her at mid-fifties. She looked friendly enough, and just the right amount of eccentric to teach art at college.
“Ready?” Ashton asked, squeezing my hand gently.
I gulped. “Not really.”
He chuckled and pulled me into the room and up to the teacher. Ashton cleared his throat. “Mrs Donovan?”
She turned and smiled, setting down her cup. “Good morning. You must be my new students,” she greeted.
Ashton nodded, and I let my gaze rake over the class. Most of the students were girls and all of them were now eyeing my near guard with undisguised lust. One of them was staring with an open mouth. My back stiffened as panic set in. What if Ashton wanted to hook up with one of these girls? What if he started to like one of them and wanted to bring her back to the apartment? How was I going to cope with that? Jealous anger and resentment settled in the pit of my stomach, and I felt the frown tug at my forehead.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Ashton, and this is my girlfriend, Anna.” He squeezed my hand so I looked up at him, seeing that he had one eyebrow raised in question.
I shook my head quickly, not wanting him to know that my mind was running rampant and thinking up scenarios where he fell in love and I had to watch it happen. I definitely didn’t want him to know about the jealousy that was eating me up inside because of it.
“You like Anna and not Annabelle?” the teacher inquired, her tone warm and welcoming.
I turned and forced a smile. “Yeah, Anna is fine.” My parents were the only ones who had ever called me Annabelle.
She nodded in acknowledgement and waved a bony hand towards two empty seats at the back of the classroom. “Take a seat, and then we can get started.” She clapped her hands and the whole room seemed to come to attention, ready to start the day, as Ashton and I wove to the empty seats at the back.
By the time the class was finished, my stomach was hurting from all the giggling. When Ashton had said that he couldn’t draw, I hadn’t thought he meant that all he could muster up was barely more than stick people. My cheek muscles were aching from smiling and laughing so much. I’d never seen anything so terrible, and it was lucky we were sat at the back so that no one else could see and ask what the heck he was doing in an art class. The teacher turned out to be quite nice though, and I actually had fun in class which wasn’t something I was used to.
As soon as the class ended, Ashton screwed up his paper into a ball and tossed it towards the trashcan, holding his hands up in celebration when it went straight in without touching the sides. “Three pointer,” he chirped, grinning. I chuckled at how childlike he was sometimes – it was incredibly cute.
