19. Ashton

nineteen

Ashton

Without another word, I guided Selma outside the building, ignoring the cameras clicking at us and signaling the valet to bring my Mustang around. It came in under fifteen seconds, and with my hand still resting on her back, I opened the passenger door, and she got in. I helped her arrange her dress before shutting the door and turning around to the driver's seat.

When I got in, she was on her phone, typing furiously on the screen. The fiery possessiveness I felt earlier was still burning bright, and I clenched my jaw to stop myself from reaching out and grabbing the phone.

"Who are you texting?" I asked instead.

"Maria," she said, and I let out a breath. "I'm apologizing for leaving early and telling her to use my car to get herself back home."

That sounded good to me.

"Okay." I started the engine and pushed the gear to drive mode, stepping on the accelerator. "Now, mind telling me what you were doing talking to your ex-boyfriend?"

I could feel the heat of her stare burning a hole into the side of my head. "Excuse you?"

"You're excused."

She scoffed. "Who the hell do you think you are to ask me that?"

"The father of the child you're carrying. Whatever you do affects my child, whether you like it or not, and I will not have you putting its life in danger."

"By talking to Alex?"

I risked a glance at her before looking at the road, anger bubbling to the surface. "Did you see the way he was looking at you, like he wanted to eat you up? And what the fuck are you wearing? Your tits are practically spilling out."

God. The rage that blinded me the second I saw her talking to him. The way his eyes had washed over her, mostly resting on her cleavage, set my blood on fire because I recognized that look. Pure, unabashed hunger. He had been practically eye-fucking her, and she'd just stood there and let him look.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter until my knuckles bleached white. Never had I felt such blinding rage.

"Stop the car," she ordered.

"What?' I looked at her for a second and saw her eyes burn with fury.

"I said stop the fucking car!" Her voice rose with every word. "I will not sit here and listen to your stupid comments about what you think I should or should not do. I am not your wife."

Not yet, anyway, I thought wryly, grinding my teeth. Something weighed on my mind. It was heavy and conspicuous and fucking killing me.

Too soon. It was too fucking soon. What was wrong with me? What was this inferno that blazed inside me whenever it concerned Selma?

"Do you still love him?" I asked.

"What?" Her voice was low, and her forehead puckered.

Bristling, I drove into our building's garage, heading for my parking spot. Turning the engine off, I opened the door and got out, needing to breathe air that didn't have her scent intoxicating it. I sucked in a breath and exhaled through my teeth, running a hand through my hair.

"Ashton, wait." Selma alighted, shutting the door behind her.

I shook my head. It was too much. Everything I felt for her was deep and incinerating, whether it was hatred, lust, or fucking love. It scalded me, my body, my heart, my soul. I wanted too much of her, way more than she wasn't willing to give.

I willed my feet to move, not looking back. The elevator opened, and I walked in, but the stupid thing was too slow to close, and even in heels, she caught up with me.

"Ashton—"

"Do you love him?" I had to know. Maybe her loving someone else would make me love her less. I didn't like to share, and I certainly didn't chase after another man's woman.

But if she said yes, I would die. I just knew it.

A line appeared between her brows. "Why are you asking me that?"

I stepped into her, and her eyes went round. "Answer the fucking question, Selma. Do you still love him?"

Her eyes glistened with emotion. She shook her head, her eyelids dropping. "No. Not anymore."

I slammed my lips against hers, a volcano erupting between us. She didn't love him. And while that didn't mean she loved me, it was a step in the right direction. Selma didn't know it yet, but she was mine. She'd been mine since that first night in my hotel room. And sooner rather than later, I would make her see it.

She moaned into my mouth, and I bit down on her lower lip, the force of our lips clashing brutally as our teeth clanged. I poured everything I felt into the kiss, everything I couldn't say with words.

With one hand, I pressed the stop button on the elevator, and it came to a crashing halt. Grabbing one creamy thigh, I hoisted it up, so it wrapped around my waist, unbuckling my belt. Thank God for the slit in her dress that enabled her to move freely.

"Do you understand how mad it makes me to think of you with another man, Selma?" Her back pressed against the cool steel walls as her manicured fingers dug into my biceps. "What do I have to do to make you understand that there's no one else for you?"

I thrust into her as the words flowed out, groaning in pleasure. I'd not had her since that afternoon in her office, after which we'd argued, and being back inside my favorite place in the world felt very much like going on a trip and coming back home.

"Ah, fuck." Her head threw back, her eyes drifting shut, allowing me to see the trickles of sweat that dripped down her neck. "We shouldn't be doing this, Ashton."

"Shut." Thrust. "The." Another thrust that had her screaming. "Fuck." Deep thrust. "Up."

The only thing I wanted to hear from her when I was buried inside her was that she loved me. Nothing else mattered.

Her wet walls clamped down on my cock, driving me to a point of no return. I craved this woman more than I craved my next breath. If I didn't have her, I would die. There was no Ashton without Selma. Whatever she'd done to make me mad about her, it had fucking worked because now she was ingrained in my soul.

"Look at you milking my cock and screaming my name," I grunted. "For someone who claims to hate me so much, you seem to like it when I fuck you senseless."

I rammed into her with force, fucking her the only way I knew how. The image of that dickhead looking at her like she was his next meal filled me with fury, and I increased the strength and pace of my thrusts to an unrelenting tempo, fucking her like I was desperate for air, and she was oxygen.

By the time I was done with her, the only thing she would know was how fucking good I made her feel, and no one else could make her feel as I did.

When Selma tightened around me and let out a scream, I held her, giving one more quick thrust all at once. Then I was coming inside her with a feral growl, my cock twitching frantically.

This woman had bewitched me. There was no other explanation for it.

Breathing heavily, I rested my forehead against hers as we put our clothing to rights. I had no idea what came over me, but when I opened my mouth, the only words that came out were the worst I could have said at that moment.

"I love you, Selma. You are a myriad of emotions wrapped up in one. I hate you, and I love you, and I have no fucking idea what I'm saying right now because my heart is so full of you that I don't think it belongs to me anymore."

She froze against me. I wasn't even sure she was breathing.

Fuck. Fucking hell. I pressed the button for the sixth floor on the elevator, and the cart started to move again.

Stepping away from her, I buckled my belt and took off my suit jacket, tugging at my tie. The silence was deafening. I was a fool. A bumbling idiot who had not an ounce of common sense. I must have lost it back at the gala because what the hell had come over me?

I was losing my mind over a woman who didn't even care enough to want me to be part of my baby's life. Who tried to shut me out and run away from everything I knew she felt for me. No one could kiss that passionately and say that it was empty. Not unless it was a lie.

So why the fuck did I keep barking up the wrong tree? What was it about Selma that made me act like such an idiot?

The elevator doors opened, and I practically bolted to my apartment. I didn't dare look at her right now, but tomorrow, I knew I would look at her and fall in love all over again.

Because I was a fucking fool.

I suppose I love the pain, I thought dryly, closing the door behind me despite my aching heart.