“You won’t hurt me,” Ashlyn’s soft voice begged. I hovered over her, my cock screaming at me to slide into her and take everything she was willing to give me. The candles were a hit, and they were providing the perfect backdrop for the intimate act I was seconds away from performing. The look on Ashlyn’s face when the first flick of candlelight hit the room was something I wouldn’t forget for as long as I lived. “I want this, Josh.”

I wasn’t sure why I was hesitating. A hot girl—no, scrap that—a beautiful girl was lying beneath me, naked, panting, and begging for me to take her. And I was hesitating. Her nipples were puckered, pink, and enticing. I leaned down and took one into my mouth, swirling my tongue and treating it like it was my favorite type of candy. Her moans of pleasure soothed my anxious body, and shot straight to my aching cock. My hand traveled down her body, and my fingertips dug into the flesh of her womanly hips as I went down to her pussy. I hissed against her nipple as I slid my finger through her slickness. She was so fucking wet. I couldn’t deny any longer that she wanted this.

“I’m going to try my hardest not to hurt you. Tell me if I’m too rough.”

Her hands grabbed my ass and pulled me closer to her virgin pussy. I wrapped my hand around my shaft and gently eased myself in. Her moan of pleasure was all I needed as a motivator. I hit the barrier, and finally found her eyes. There was no fear, concern, or pain looking back at me. She was inviting me. She wanted me. She trusted me. With one thrust, I took her most prized possession, and at the same time, she took my heart.

One hand gripped my aching cock, while the other rested on the glass wall of the shower as memories hit me like a freight train. As the water beat down on me, my hand worked my cock in rough, forceful movements. Up and down, squeezing and releasing. Her face and body were forever etched in my mind. Ashlyn fucking Hart, the girl I had, the girl I lost, and the girl I wanted. My hand worked in rhythm with the intense beating of my heart. My broken breathing was lost in the rush of water, and my head dropped and rested against the glass next to my hand. Her face flashed before me, followed by her hips and legs, covered only by those tight-as-fuck tights, and that was all it took. The muscles in my stomach tightened and my breathing ceased to exist. My cock throbbed violently in my hand one last time, and I came with a low, deep grunt.

I washed away the evidence and finished off in the shower as I got my breathing under control. My head was thrashing around in a dangerous torrent, while my body was floating in pure relaxation. Blowing my load with Ashlyn Hart on the mind seemed to relieve every ounce of tension I had.

After pulling on a pair of clean sweats and leaving my chest bare, I stepped back into the living room and looked straight to the couch. Ashlyn still lay curled up, and it looked like she hadn’t moved an inch. I left sleeping beauty and made my way to the kitchen as my stomach grumbled to life. My fridge had gone from empty to full capacity. It looked like Ashlyn bought the whole store out.

I pulled out chicken, cream, and mushrooms from the fridge, then I grabbed pasta from the pantry and began preparing what I hoped she wanted. It had been a long time since I cooked for a woman. The last time was for Sadie, my huge fucking mistake. Convenience was the only way to describe our relationship. We dated for nine months. In that time, she got her parents off her back, and I got nothing but a huge credit card debt and regular sex. I never loved her, because my heart was shut for business and would only reopen for one woman. Eventually, she found herself a sixty year-old sugar daddy and I was free. There definitely wasn’t a heartbreak story. We both served a purpose, got what we needed, and then moved on.

“Shit, what time is it?” A soft voice sounded from the living room.

I glanced over as Ashlyn rose from the couch and stretched tall, allowing just a hint of her stomach to show. Quickly, she spun and looked into the kitchen. The minute she found me, her eyes widened.

“Oh my god. Josh, I was meant to cook.” She rushed into the kitchen and stood next to me. “I think I’ve earned title of worst houseguest ever.”

“Ashy, its fine. I haven’t cooked for a woman in a long time, so tonight’s on me. You can cook every other night you’re here.” I shot her a wink and continued stirring the pot.

“I remember you cooking this when we were in college, and then we watched a movie and drank cheap wine. I’ll never forget that hangover. I swore off wine that night, but clearly that was a lie.” She laughed softly at the memory. “What can I do to help?”

“You can be on bread duty.”

We worked in silence, me handling the pasta and Ashlyn cutting up the bread, and fell into an easy routine. I switched the burner to simmer, and turned to rest against the kitchen island.

Her entire focus was on cutting the bread, so I took the moment of silence to really look at her. She had the girl-next-door look going on, complete with the braid hanging over her shoulder and a face bare of makeup. My hoodie swam on her, but I’d never seen her look as desirable as she did now. This was the first time I’d ever seen her in my clothes, and I hoped to Christ it wouldn’t be the last. There was something . . . almost a form of ownership that hit you when a woman claimed a piece of your clothing, and I knew, without a doubt, that I’d never wear that hoodie again.

“My hoodie looks good on you.”

Her cheeks flushed briefly, then she twisted around and mimicked my stance. “I was cold, and it was on the couch so I grabbed it. I’ll wash it and give it back.”

“Keep it.”

Ashlyn wrapped her arms tightly around herself and smiled. “I’ve never had this. I mean, a guy cook for me. Usually a guy would buy me pizza, or I’d be the one that had to cook. Or at least he would’ve waited till I woke up, and then I would’ve had to cook.”

As soon as she said he, I felt myself switch on, and anger speared through me. Lachlan fucking Johnson strikes again. I despised the effect he had on her. He didn’t deserve anything but a punch in the face, and for his balls to be ripped clean from his body. The mere mention or thought of him would cause her sass to diminish, the fire in her eyes to snuff out, and the insecurities would fire off her, as they were right now.

“Well he is a complete asshole. He should have treated you like a queen, because you deserve to wear a crown, and he doesn’t deserve a second thought. His loss will be another man’s gain, and whoever that man is needs to make sure he is your happily-ever-after.”

“No guys, Josh. We’ve had this conversation,” she replied with a smile.

“But one day there will be someone.”

“Unless it’s Reese, Max, or Woods, I’m not having any of it.”

What the fuck?

“Those men know how to treat a woman right. If only I could have one night with each of them. Actually, I’d want a day and night—twenty-four hours of pure bliss. Hold up, imagine having them all in one room for a mass orgy. Now that is a woman’s wet dream.” Her voice dropped and she actually sounded breathless.

“Ashlyn, who are you talking about?” I asked in complete confusion.

She sighed. “My dream men. The only men I’ll ever let in my panties.”

“What? Do they live here? Why haven’t I met them? What do they do?”

“One is an accountant, one is a businessman, and the other runs a country club.”

How did I not know about these guys? “What about your new rule of no cock?”

“I’d break all my rules for these men.”

“You confuse the fuck out of me. One minute you are saying no cock, just pussy. And now you are saying you want some accountant who I’ve never heard about. Where did you meet him?”