Her fingertips fluttered over his collarbones, from there, they slid up his neck. She looked into the dark eyes of a hungry man staring down at her. Any hint of green in his pupils had been swallowed by black, and she was caught in a tantalizing, paralyzing trap.
Ashley lifted to her toes and, without taking her eyes off him, kissed his prickly chin. Her arms looped around his neck, which put her breasts on his chest, where he could touch them or kiss them. She wasn’t afraid anymore.
“You need to sleep. At least take a nap,” she told him, but her voice came out ragged and needy. Breathless.
Tripp’s head slanted. His gaze slipped from her eyes to her mouth. “No. I just need you.”
He’d turned his back to the window. She’d already opened her room darkening curtains for Peewee; the sunlight streaming behind him cast golden light into the room. He looked like an angel, backlit with all that gold. Fierce and powerful, but broken. Tired of fighting the world, of fighting his sister’s demons.
Yet he was nothing like the fallen angel from Friday night. That guy had been frighteningly powerful and brutal in the justice he’d dished out. He’d offered no quarter to the man who had assaulted her. But Tripp had only ever been kind and sweet. Gentle with her and Mrs. Harrison. Now he needed someone to pour a little kindness on him.
They stood there on the edge of forever, both suddenly breathing hard. Wanting.
“I’m not afraid of you, Tripp McClane,” Ashley whispered daringly.
Something dark shifted through his eyes. “Maybe you should be.”
Her heart started pounding, but she sucked up her fear and gave his sentiment right back to him. “No. Not of you. Never you.” Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “My bedroom is that way if you… if you…” The suggestion caught in her throat. Darn. Just when she’d thought she could act tough, she couldn’t. It took all of her courage to finish the invitation. “If you’d like to lay down for a while.”
A sad smile curled his bottom lip. “With you?”
She nodded, bobbing her head, too afraid if she said anything else, she’d make a bigger fool of herself. Never in all of her twenty-some years had she been the aggressor. Not that she was now, because she hadn’t the nerve to be that kind of strong or pushy. But this man needed her, and she wanted to give back a fraction of what he’d given her. She wanted to make him smile.
Trembling, because she’d never done this before, Ashley took the first step into the unknown, reached for his hand, and then tugged him along behind her. Not that Tripp resisted, because he didn’t. But because doing this, taking control of this one thing in her life, was important. She needed to be the leader. It was her home and her bed and...
Oh, fudge. What if he rejected her invitation? Her heart stuttered to a full stop. But no. She wanted this man, and she was pretty sure he wanted her. Else why had he come back?
As if he’d read her mind, Tripp reached one arm around her shoulders, the other under her knees, and carried her into her room. With every step closer to the bed, her heart danced a perky salsa up her throat. Ashley tipped back in his arms and smiled, just before he tossed her onto the bed.
“Nice place.” he growled as he settled a knee between her legs. “Are you sure this is what you want to do? I mean, I’m still me, and—”
“Yes, you,” she told him earnestly, her arms hooked around his neck again.
He’d settled over her, his elbows alongside her head and his legs between hers. “Ashley,” he breathed, his eyes searching her face, her neck, and the low V of her collar.
“Tripp,” Ashley whispered, licking her bottom lip, her body weeping at the weight and heat of the magnificent male holding her down. But not hurting her. To move past that horribly frightening day in her past, she reached behind her back and tugged her top over her head and off.
His eyes widened, then fell to her lacy, violet bra. Her closet might be full of more manly clothes than feminine attire, but she knew how to make herself look attractive.
It must’ve worked. Tripp’s tongue just made a quick swipe over his bottom lip. “You’re beautiful,” he said with awe.
“Hands,” she ordered, not turning back now. “P-p-please put your hands on my… my…”
“Breasts?” he asked, his voice low and incredibly husky, and his gaze still hot on her bra.
“Yes. Them.” The darned tremor in her voice had to go, but if she didn’t do this now, she’d never get past that other day.
Then, because he hesitated, she grabbed hold of the big hands he’d placed alongside her head and moved them to where she needed them. The second his palms flattened on her bra, a wave of fear crashed over Ashley. She closed her eyes, scared, but wanting this so darned bad, she could’ve cried. Enough was enough! She was tired of pushing everyone away, especially Tripp. Ashley wanted this, darn it. She wanted him.
“You’re trembling,” he told her.
“Yes, well…” Opening her eyes, she looked up at the man she’d once accused of despicable things. “I’ve never done this before.”
His head cocked. “Ah, yes. You’re a virgin,” he breathed.
“I know that makes me a unicorn. A freak. I just wasn’t ever one of the in-crowd. I’ve never belonged or wanted to be popular or—”
“You’re not a freak, Ashley Cox,” he interrupted, his voice a low, sexy growl. “If you ask me, you’re one of the rarest women in the world. I just never…” His top teeth scraped over his bottom lip again. “But me? Are you sure I’m the guy you want to do this with?”
“Yes. You, Tripp. Now.” That almost made her sound bossy. Man, she wished she were.
Carefully, as if he were handling something breakable,
