Taut: The Ford Book
Page 72
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I slip my hand behind her neck and fist her hair as I whisper in her ear. “I do like the fight, but not tonight. Tonight you’re mine. Tonight I own you. I get to take care of you. I get to make you feel things for the first time. Tonight I promise you perfection. So just give in, Ashleigh. Give yourself to me and let it happen.”
She turns her head, just slightly, just so her lips are against my rough cheek. My free hand involuntarily comes up to her neck and presses against her throat. She moans a little before I loosen my hold. “Ford,” she says seductively into my ear. “I’m going to kiss you right now. In public.” And then I feel the stretch of her neck under my palm and her soft lips touch my earlobe, just skim across the sensitive skin before pulling away.
It actually makes me close my eyes for a second.
“See,” she breathes. “It’s nice. I trust you. But I like soft kisses. So in between the rough stuff you like, be careful with me. Give me something soft, because I really need it.”
I’m speechless. I’m still thinking about her kiss, so I have to play catch up with her words.
This confession from her unlocks something deep inside. Something that makes me want to hold her close and protect her. To wipe away all the things that have her worried and make her world perfect.
I want her. I’d let her sloppy-kiss me right here in front of everyone if she asked right now.
But the waiter arrives and we both turn our attention to food for enough moments that the insane attraction I have to this girl is checked. She gets the lobster and I get the prime rib. But my appetite is gone and my mind is only on one thing right now.
How the f**k do I keep her from leaving me tomorrow?
When we’re done ordering we sit in silence and enjoy our drinks. This place is over-the-top yet subdued at the same time. Our booth has a high back that curves around the plush bench so we can’t see the diners on either side of us. It’s just Ashleigh, me, and the nighttime Vegas skyline.
“Tell me something new, Ford.”
I smile at her request. “That’s what started it, you know. Your confession that you thought I was a hot serial killer.”
“A hot serial killer who would beat back my keen defenses with his unorthodox charm so that I’d beg him to kill me during kinky sex.”
“Hmmm…”
She laughs. “Yeah, seems like your diabolical plan is working. Please don’t make me beg you to kill me tonight.”
“I’ll make you beg for something, but death will be the last thing on your list. More, that’s what you’ll be begging for. More.”
She smiles and shakes her head a little, like I’m such a cocky bastard. “Let’s play a game.”
“You have a game for everything, it seems.” I have my arm around her shoulder and I trace the curve of her small muscles in her upper arm, thinking of her shivering touch on my back last night. “What kind of game?”
She turns her body a little so she can see my face. “It’s called Lie, Lie, Truth. You tell me three things about you, two of them lies, one not. And I have to guess which one is true.”
“What do you get if you guess?”
“A favor. To be claimed at some time in the future.”
“I’ve never heard of this game, I think you make these games up.”
“It was something my friends and I played in school. We had no boys, remember? We had to keep ourselves occupied somehow.”
“Were you a Sandy or a Rizzo when you were in school?” She bursts out laughing and I have to shush her because it’s so loud. “Stop.”
“A Sandy—are you talking about Grease?”
Even I laugh now. “Sorry, I’m a film producer, remember? Now tell me, Sandy or Rizzo?”
“You tell me. Ready?” I nod. “OK.” She stops, to think up her lies presumably, and then turns to me grinning. “In tenth grade I won a contest for selling the most candy bars for our school orchestra. I can play four instruments. I got kicked out of the orchestra in eleventh grade because I stood up and yelled, Play ball after we performed the Star-Spangled Banner for a competition.”
“No contest, number two. You’re a Sandy who thinks she wants to be a Rizzo.”
She squirms and huffs out a small laugh. “Yes, that’s true. I liked being smart as a kid. I was an overachiever. But why do you think that? I mean, how did you know that was the truth?”
“It’s pretty difficult for foreigners to get into a Japanese university. I might not know much about you, but I know you’re exceptional. Selling the most candy bars is not exceptional and I don’t think you’d ever ruin someone else’s special moment just to be a brat. You play four instruments was the only logical answer. So I win a future favor and now it’s my turn. Ready?”
“Yes, I’m ready,” she says, her eyes locked on mine.
“I’ve never had a girlfriend. I’ve never wanted a girlfriend. I wish I’d never met you.” I look down at her and her mouth is open, gaping at me.
“Um…”
“Should I say them again?”
She stares at me. “You’ve never had a girlfriend? How is that possible?”
I shrug a little. “I’ve never had a girlfriend and I’ve never wanted one… until you. I’ve had lots of sex. And I’ve been on dates. But the girls I’m usually with have strict rules and no talking or touching were two of them.”
She turns her head, just slightly, just so her lips are against my rough cheek. My free hand involuntarily comes up to her neck and presses against her throat. She moans a little before I loosen my hold. “Ford,” she says seductively into my ear. “I’m going to kiss you right now. In public.” And then I feel the stretch of her neck under my palm and her soft lips touch my earlobe, just skim across the sensitive skin before pulling away.
It actually makes me close my eyes for a second.
“See,” she breathes. “It’s nice. I trust you. But I like soft kisses. So in between the rough stuff you like, be careful with me. Give me something soft, because I really need it.”
I’m speechless. I’m still thinking about her kiss, so I have to play catch up with her words.
This confession from her unlocks something deep inside. Something that makes me want to hold her close and protect her. To wipe away all the things that have her worried and make her world perfect.
I want her. I’d let her sloppy-kiss me right here in front of everyone if she asked right now.
But the waiter arrives and we both turn our attention to food for enough moments that the insane attraction I have to this girl is checked. She gets the lobster and I get the prime rib. But my appetite is gone and my mind is only on one thing right now.
How the f**k do I keep her from leaving me tomorrow?
When we’re done ordering we sit in silence and enjoy our drinks. This place is over-the-top yet subdued at the same time. Our booth has a high back that curves around the plush bench so we can’t see the diners on either side of us. It’s just Ashleigh, me, and the nighttime Vegas skyline.
“Tell me something new, Ford.”
I smile at her request. “That’s what started it, you know. Your confession that you thought I was a hot serial killer.”
“A hot serial killer who would beat back my keen defenses with his unorthodox charm so that I’d beg him to kill me during kinky sex.”
“Hmmm…”
She laughs. “Yeah, seems like your diabolical plan is working. Please don’t make me beg you to kill me tonight.”
“I’ll make you beg for something, but death will be the last thing on your list. More, that’s what you’ll be begging for. More.”
She smiles and shakes her head a little, like I’m such a cocky bastard. “Let’s play a game.”
“You have a game for everything, it seems.” I have my arm around her shoulder and I trace the curve of her small muscles in her upper arm, thinking of her shivering touch on my back last night. “What kind of game?”
She turns her body a little so she can see my face. “It’s called Lie, Lie, Truth. You tell me three things about you, two of them lies, one not. And I have to guess which one is true.”
“What do you get if you guess?”
“A favor. To be claimed at some time in the future.”
“I’ve never heard of this game, I think you make these games up.”
“It was something my friends and I played in school. We had no boys, remember? We had to keep ourselves occupied somehow.”
“Were you a Sandy or a Rizzo when you were in school?” She bursts out laughing and I have to shush her because it’s so loud. “Stop.”
“A Sandy—are you talking about Grease?”
Even I laugh now. “Sorry, I’m a film producer, remember? Now tell me, Sandy or Rizzo?”
“You tell me. Ready?” I nod. “OK.” She stops, to think up her lies presumably, and then turns to me grinning. “In tenth grade I won a contest for selling the most candy bars for our school orchestra. I can play four instruments. I got kicked out of the orchestra in eleventh grade because I stood up and yelled, Play ball after we performed the Star-Spangled Banner for a competition.”
“No contest, number two. You’re a Sandy who thinks she wants to be a Rizzo.”
She squirms and huffs out a small laugh. “Yes, that’s true. I liked being smart as a kid. I was an overachiever. But why do you think that? I mean, how did you know that was the truth?”
“It’s pretty difficult for foreigners to get into a Japanese university. I might not know much about you, but I know you’re exceptional. Selling the most candy bars is not exceptional and I don’t think you’d ever ruin someone else’s special moment just to be a brat. You play four instruments was the only logical answer. So I win a future favor and now it’s my turn. Ready?”
“Yes, I’m ready,” she says, her eyes locked on mine.
“I’ve never had a girlfriend. I’ve never wanted a girlfriend. I wish I’d never met you.” I look down at her and her mouth is open, gaping at me.
“Um…”
“Should I say them again?”
She stares at me. “You’ve never had a girlfriend? How is that possible?”
I shrug a little. “I’ve never had a girlfriend and I’ve never wanted one… until you. I’ve had lots of sex. And I’ve been on dates. But the girls I’m usually with have strict rules and no talking or touching were two of them.”
