Money Man's Fiancée Negotiation (12 page)

“Okay,” she said, but didn’t specify which one, dinner in or out. But before he could ask, she walked out of the bathroom.

He gathered his clothes from the floor and walked into her bedroom, expecting her to be getting dressed. Instead she was lying in bed, propped up on one elbow, the blankets draped about waist level.

She probably wasn’t trying to look sexy, but damn it all, she did. At that moment he would swear on his life that she had the most beautiful breasts in the free world. And, God, did he ache to get his hands on them.

“Taking a nap?” he asked.

She shook her head, then she pulled back the covers on the opposite side of the bed and patted the mattress. “Get in.”

Get in? Into bed?

Now he was the one who was confused. “Mel—”

“Get in,”
she said more firmly.

“But…I thought…I thought we were waiting.”

“Me, too. Now come over here and get into bed.”

Though he still wasn’t sure what was going on, he walked to the bed, tossing his clothes in a pile on the floor. His skin was still damp and the sheets stuck to him as he slid between them.

Since he didn’t know what she expected from him, he
lay beside her, mirroring her position. “Okay, I’m in. Now what?”

“Now you should kiss me. And this time don’t worry about the plumbing. I want you to touch me.”

Good, because he started getting hard the second he saw her lying there, and short of putting on pants, or lying on top of the covers while she stayed under them, there was going to be inevitable physical contact. The question was, how far was she willing to let this go?

“Just to be clear, so I don’t cross any boundaries, are you saying that you want to make love?”

“Yes, I am. And I do. Right now.”

Thank You, God.

She lay back against the pillows, gazing up at him, waiting for his kiss. He knew what the old Mel would expect. She would want it hard and fast and breathless. But this Mel didn’t have a clue what she wanted, so he was free to do whatever he chose, like a painter with a clean canvas.

But maybe this time, it was a picture they could paint together.

A
sh leaned in to kiss her, his hand cupping her face so tenderly, and Melody knew she was safe with him. That she would always be safe.

She wasn’t exactly sure what happened in the bathroom, but when Ash shut off the water and wrapped her in a towel, told her they were stopping, something inside her shifted. She knew in that second that she wanted him, that she was ready
now.
It was time to stop looking backward and focus on the future.

His lips brushed hers, so gentle and sweet, and whatever anxiety or fear remained dissolved with their mingling breath. It was the kind of perfect kiss that every girl dreamed about. And she had, she realized. She had been that girl. The memory was so near she could almost reach out and touch it. But she didn’t want to think about anything right now, she just wanted to feel. And Ash was exceptional in that department.

His kisses roused her senses and his caresses trailed fire across her skin. It was as if he owned a road map to every erogenous zone on her body, and he explored each one until she felt crazy with want. He made her shudder and quake, taking her to the brink of mindless ecstasy then yanking her back the second before she could reach her peak.

He aroused her with such practiced skill it made her feel inept in her own efforts, but he never once gave the impression that her touch did anything but arouse him. And nothing could be more erotic for her than touching him all over. Learning him again. She discovered that his ears were exceptionally sensitive, because when she nibbled them he groaned and fisted his hands in her hair. And when she did the same to his nipple he dragged her face to his and kissed her so hard she felt breathless. What he seemed to like most though was when she straddled his thighs, took his erection in her hand, but instead of stroking, swirled her thumb in slow circles around the head.

“My God, that feels amazing,” Ash said, his eyes rolling closed, his fingers curling into the sheets. It was unbelievably arousing, watching him struggle for control. Knowing she was making him feel that way.

“Did I used to do this to you before?”

He swallowed hard and shook his head. “I don’t want to come yet, but if you keep that up I will.”

“It’s okay if you do.” She wanted him to.

He shook his head and opened his eyes. They were glassy and unfocused. “Not yet. Not until I’m inside you.”

Well, all he had to do was ask. She rose up on her knees and centered herself over him. When he realized what she intended to do, he asked, “Are you sure?”

She had never been so sure of anything in her life.

Her eyes locked on his, she slowly lowered herself onto his erection, taking him inside her inch by excruciating inch. She was sure that making love, no matter how often or how many times they had done it before, had never given her this soul-deep sensation of completeness. “You’re so
tight,
” he said, his hands splayed across her hips, looking as though he was barely hanging on.

She rose up until only the head was inside her, then sank back down. Ash groaned as her body clenched down around him. He reached up and hooked his hands around her neck, pulling her down for a kiss. It was deep and reckless and more than a little wild. And in one smooth motion, he rolled her over so that she was the one on her back, looking up at him. And he was wearing a cocky grin.

She opened her mouth to protest the sudden change of dynamics, but at the same time he rocked into her, swift and deep—
oh, so deep
—and the sound that emerged was a throaty moan.

He pulled back again then rocked forward. Once, twice. Slooowly. Watching her face. This was just like the shower video, only better because she was actually feeling it. And it was everything she expected and more.

Faster,
she wanted to say.
Harder.
But the words were getting lost somewhere between her brain and her lips. She felt paralyzed, poised on a precipice, and as he moved inside her, each thrust pushed her a little closer to the edge. Ash must have been able to tell that she was close. He picked up speed.

Her body began to tremble, then quake, then the pleasure took hold almost violently. It felt as though her body was turning in on itself. Toes curling, fingers clenching. She was still in its grip when Ash groaned and shuddered.
She was just starting to come around, to come back to herself, when he dropped his head on her shoulder. He was breathing hard, and she was having a tough time catching her breath, too.

Ash kissed her one last time then rolled over onto the mattress, drawing her against his side.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said. “But that was without question the quietest sex we have ever had.”

She knew from the videos that she had the tendency to be…
vocal,
during sex, but she just assumed she was saucing it up for the camera. She didn’t realize she
always
acted that way. “I can try to be louder next time.”

“Oh, no,” he said quickly. “Quiet is good. I’ve stopped getting those I-know-what-
you
-did-last-night looks in the elevator.”

She rose up on her elbow to look at him. “You’re not serious,” she said, but she could see by his expression that he was. Her cheeks flushed just thinking about it. He once said that she had voyeuristic tendencies, but come on. “I still have a hard time believing some of the things I did. And you know, I just assumed that when I got my memories back, I would go back to being the person I was before. But the truth is, I don’t think I want to. I think I like myself better the way I am now.”

“You know, I think I do, too.”

She hoped he really meant that. That he wasn’t secretly disappointed. “You don’t miss the makeup and the perfect hair and the clingy clothes?”

“To be honest, I hadn’t given it much thought. The clothes you wear look fine to me, and your hair is cute this way.” He reached up and tucked a strand behind her ear. “As for the makeup, I never thought you needed it anyway.”

“I think I was insecure as a child.”

His brow furrowed. “You remember?”

“Not exactly. It’s hard to explain. It’s just a feeling I have. I look at the way I was and it’s just so not me, so not who I am now. It makes me feel as though I was playing a role. Trying to be something that I wasn’t. Which means I couldn’t have liked myself very much, could I?”

“I guess not.”

“Would it be okay with you if I bought some new clothes? Those lace push-up bras are like medieval torture devices. I’d honestly rather have smaller-looking boobs than suffer another day in one of those things.”

He grinned. “You can buy whatever you need.”

“I’ll probably need you to take me, though. Since I’m not thrilled with the idea of taking the bus. In fact, I may never get on one again. You could just drop me off, and I could call when I’m finished.”

“How would you feel about driving yourself?”

She thought about that and realized there was really no reason why she couldn’t drive herself. She was off the pain meds and she wasn’t getting dizzy any longer. “I guess I could. As long as you don’t mind loaning me your car.”

He got this adorable, mischievous grin. “I was going to wait until Monday when it got here to tell you.”

“When what got here?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise, but I suppose I could tell you now.”

“Tell me what?”

He jumped up, looking a bit like an excited little boy, and reached for his pants on the floor. He pulled his cell phone from the pocket, then flopped down on his stomach beside her. He tapped at the touch screen, but when she sat up and tried to see over his shoulder what he was doing, he rolled onto his back. “Just hold on.”

He had such a sweet, goofy grin on his face, she was
dying
to see what he was up to. When he finally handed her the phone there was photo of a car on the screen. A luxury mini-SUV in a rich shade of blue. “I thought your car was new,” she said. “It is.”

“So why buy another one?”

He laughed. “For you. That’s your car. Well, not that exact one, but one just like it.”

“You bought me a car?”

“You need one, right?”

“Oh, my God.” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “Thank you!”

He laughed and hugged her back. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Maybe not to you, but it is to me.”

“If you scroll left you can see what it looks at from other angles.”

She sat back against the pillows, scrolling through the other shots he’d taken.

“It’s so cute! I love it.”

“It also has an excellent safety record. And I got the extended option package. It has everything.”

She scrolled to the next page, but it wasn’t of the car. It took her a second to figure out exactly what it was she was seeing, and when she did, her head began to spin.

One second Mel was all smiles, then her face went slack and all the color leeched from her skin. She lifted a hand to her mouth, as if she might be sick.

He sat up. “Mel, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head and said, “I should be dead.”

He looked down at his phone and realized she was no longer looking at her new car. She was looking at the photos he’d taken at the impound lot in Texas, of what was
left of her old car. He had completely forgotten they were there.

“Crap!” He snatched the phone away, but it was obviously too late. He should have erased the damned things, or at least transferred them to his work computer. “I didn’t mean for you to see those. I’m sorry.”

She looked up at him, eyes as wide as saucers. “How did I survive that?”

“You were really lucky.”

“Everyone kept saying that. But they always say that when someone has an accident and doesn’t die. Right?”

He shrugged. “I guess sometimes they really mean it.”

“Was it just the one picture, or are there more?”

“Half a dozen maybe. I’ll erase them.”

She held out her hand. “I want to see.”

“Mel—”

“Ash, I
need
to see them.”

“It’ll just upset you.”

“It will upset me more if I don’t.
Please.
”

He reluctantly handed it back to her, and watched as she scrolled through the photos. When she got to the last one she scrolled back the other way. She did that a few times, then she closed her eyes tight, as though she was trying to block the image from her mind.

Letting her look had been a bad idea. He should have told her no and erased them. “Mel, why don’t you give me—”

“I rolled,” she said, eyes still closed.

“That’s right. Into a ditch. Then you hit a tree. The doctor told you that, remember?”

Her brow wrinkled in concentration. “The interior was black, the instrument panel had red. Red lights. And the gearshift…” She reached out with her right hand, as if she
was touching it. “It was red, too.” She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “There was an air freshener hanging from the mirror. It smelled like coconuts.”

There was no way she could have seen that kind of detail in the photo on his phone. She was remembering. “What else?”

“I remember rolling.” She looked up at him. “I remember being scared, and hurting, and thinking I was going to die. It was…
awful.
But I do remember.”

He wondered how long it would take before she remembered what else had happened,
why
she rolled into the ditch. Had she been conscious enough to know that she was miscarrying?

He put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s over, and you’re safe now.”

She looked up at him. “There’s something else.”

He held his breath.

She stared at him for what felt like an eternity, then she shook her head. “I don’t know. I know there’s something there. Something I should know. It just won’t come.”

“It will,” he assured her, hoping it never did, wishing she could just be content to let it stay buried.