Page 122 of Little Sunshine

Violence happened everywhere all the time. In the big, scary cities and the wholesome tiny towns.

Getting hurt was awful, but I’d still been more fortunate than others. I’d survived the random attack. I’d moved on.

But Ash hadn’t.

“What do they have to do with you wanting me?” I asked.

“You trusted me to take care of you, and I don’t take that shit lightly, Mila. I didn’t want to do something that would make you feel like you weren’t safe with me. Or worse, like you owed me. Before I did anything, I needed to make it so you could tell me to fuck off and then safely leave.” His lip twitched. “Temporarily.”

“And I can leave?”

Any trace of humor was gone, and his jaw clenched as he repeated, “Temporarily.”

God, that’s hot.

Why is that hot?

“But not this minute,” he tacked on. “We found them, but I still need to deal with them.”

Maybe it made me a bad person, but I didn’t ask how he was going to deal with it because I didn’t care. Both those men deserved whatever threat or legal trouble they faced.

Ash stood suddenly, bringing me with. He took a few steps to the mattress before setting me down. He didn’t join me. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Wait, you’re going?” I cried. “Earlier, you said you were going to make me…”

An amused smile tipped his mouth, and he played dumb. “Make you what?”

I may have wanted to throw something at him, but I wanted to ease the tightness in my lower belly more. Gritting my teeth, I forced out, “Make me come.”

“It’ll have to wait.” He leaned down to brush his mouth across mine. “I’m guessing you don’t want to go back to hanging out with Juliet?”

I would rather dive in the deep end wearing a bikini made of plugged in toasters.

“I would not,” I said instead.

He gave me a knowing look but didn’t push—though I got the impression he wanted to.

I knew I’d have to talk to her eventually if I wanted to salvage our fledgling friendship. But I had enough other stuff to deal with right then. I didn’t want to add trying to explain to her what was raw in my head.

“I want you to stay in this room until I get back,” Ash ordered. “I’ll bring dinner with me, and we’ll talk. Until then, relax.”

“You know how I said you couldn’t say not to mention just to mention it? You also can’t say we need to talk and then tell me to relax. Those two are mutually exclusive. Totally incompatible.”

“Noted,” he said as he walked from the room.

My reeling brain was cycling through our lengthy conversation when he came back a moment later with my phone and the iPad from the table. He set both on the nightstand before pulling a bottle of water from his pocket.

“I thought you were just happy to see me,” I joked.

Ash chuckled, but it was husky as he snagged my wrist. He pushed my flattened palm against his abs and moved it slowly down before stopping above his belt. “When you’re ready, I’ll show you exactly how happy I am to see you. And it’ll be a fuckuva lot more impressive than that water bottle.”

If he were any other man, I’d chalk the brag up to male ego and exaggeration.

But it was Ash. And I’d felt that hardness between my legs.

He was understating it.

“I want that water gone by the time I get back,” he ordered. “Keep an eye on your phone. I’ll text about dinner.”

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