I look at Ashlyn across the room. She’s still laughing, but she’s watching me out of the corner of her eye.
Fuck me, all I see is Sophie. It’s been almost a mother fucking year, and I still fucking see her everywhere, compare everyone to her. Sophie’s easy laugh is nothing like Ashlyn’s. Ashlyn is curvy, but nobody has a bigger hotter ass than Sophie.
Would Ashlyn as easily scrub the blood off me? Maybe. She’s grown up in this life. But would she beg for me to let her come while I fucked her ass with her panties stuffed inside her?Wouldn’t matter if she did. She wouldn’t moan like Sophie, call mepadronelike Sophie. Because she’s not fucking Sophie.
But none of that is relevant to what’s happening right now. The ports are a priority for the Demonio Brotherhood, and I’m the boss. That’s it and that’s all.
I down the rest of my whiskey. “Fine.”
The room Ashlyn takes me to isn’t hers. It’s flat, boring, no personal effects. I gesture to the generic art work on the walls. “Either you really like shitty motel art or this isn’t your room.”
She smiles. “I prefer it this way. Makes it a little less… personal. We’re basically just signing a contract, no?”
She closes the door and peels her shirt off over her head, baring large breasts in a silky black bra. Arching her back, she turns away and glances over her shoulder at me as she unclasps her bra.
I assess her with my hands in my pockets. She’s not nervous. She’s performing, and she’s good at it. There’s nothing wrong with that except that I feel absolutely nothing. And I don’t think she does either.
She flicks her bra on an empty chair and takes a step toward me. I step back.
“You’re not acting like a virgin,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m 32 years old, hardly a blushing bloom.”
“So you’re not a virgin?”
She chooses her words carefully. “Technically, yes. There areways around things.”
I nod. I’m not listening to her. I’m thinking about Sophie, playing out in my head the version of this conversation where I stop being such a fucking martyr and figure out a way to keep what I actually want.
Who I actually love.
FUCK. I love Sophie.
God DAMN it.
“You know,” Ashlyn says, studying me with her arms crossed over her bare chest, “if you don’t fuck me, they’ll kill you.”
I refocus. “How’s that?”
“If you break this contract, they’ll assume you’ll break any contract.” She tilts her head. “And if you try to get out of this on a technicality, tell them I’m not a virgin, they’ll kill me. So we’re rather stuck with each other.”
“What makes you think I give a shit about your life?”
She shrugs. “You give a shit about my brother. Your relationship with Ronan wouldn’t fare well if you’re the reason why I’m dead.”
She’s not wrong, but I don’t particularly care what happens to this woman. I know it shows on my face. I don’t try to hide it. She sighs when I don’t respond.
“I heard you have a woman. Or had one.” She says it simply, but she watches me closely. “I didn’t believe it until someone told me you hadn’t been out fucking whatever trash came your way foralmost a year now.” She pauses and gestures down at her bare tits. “I know that wasn’t out of respect for me. Is she why you won’t touch me?”
I say nothing.
She nods like I’ve confirmed something. “I’ve known you a long time, Vin. Years. And honestly? I’m surprised you didn’t try to fuck me the first night you found out we were engaged.” She looks me over with frank assessment. “It says something about what you feel for her.”
“Or it says I’m not attracted to you.” I almost call her princess, but I don’t. That name belongs to someone else now. ”Don’t assume you know what I want, Ashlyn. You don’t know shit about me.”
She shrugs her bare shoulders. “Maybe not. But I know men. I know that any man at that party would be inside me right now if he had half a chance regardless of any woman waiting at home, and not one stands to gain nearly as much as you do. So you’re offered a virgin, a fortune, and access to the most valuable ports on the eastern seaboard, and still you won’t touch me.”
“What do you get out of it?” I ask. “Any of it.”
