The Ashtons: Walker, Ford & Mercedes: Betrayed Birthright / Mistaken for a Mistress / Condition of Marriage. Sheri WhiteFeather
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She didn’t try to free herself, even though he still held her captive. She liked his game, his decisive maneuvers.
Sexual strategy. Her heart pounded with anticipation.
A strand of hair fell across his eyebrows, making him seem like a rebel. She itched to run her fingers down his spine, to sink her nails into his back.
But he offered her something even better. In the blink of an eye, he rolled over and took her with him, shifting until she was poised above him, with her legs sprawled across his lap.
“Want to go for a ride?” he asked.
Her breath rushed out; her pulse stumbled. She envisioned riding him until the end of time, until the sun disappeared and the moon spun in the sky. “Yes.”
“Then do it.” He gripped her waist. “Do it to both of us.”
She didn’t have a choice. She wanted him so badly, her life could have depended on it. More than ready, Tamra lifted her hips and slid down, taking him inside.
His fingers tightened around her waist, moving her up and down, setting the rhythm.
Deep, wet, intoxicating.
She leaned over to kiss him, to suck on his tongue. Desperate sex, she thought. Suddenly Walker tasted like the tequila he’d drunk.
Or was that the flavor of passion? Of the heat between them? The spiraling sensation of liquid fire?
They made love like animals on the verge of an attack. He lunged forward, so they were face-to-face, so she could look directly in his eyes while they practically tore each other apart.
She clawed his chest, raking her nails over every muscle. He ravaged her shoulders, using his teeth, nearly bruising her.
“This is insane,” she said.
Beautifully crazy.
He didn’t respond. He just encouraged her to keep going, to keep milking his body with hers. Harder, faster, deeper.
The room twirled in a haze of color. Daylight burned bright. She could almost feel the sun melting over her skin, dripping in sweet, sticky rivulets.
A hot, hip-grinding climax shattered inside her, making her shudder, making the wetness between her legs seem like honey.
And then she realized that Walker had spilled into her, that the dampness had come from him.
Her lover.
The man sweeping her away.
Eight
Tamra stepped out of the bathroom with a thick, fluffy towel wrapped around her. Everything at the Ashton Estate was luxurious.
Too luxurious, she thought, as she walked over to Walker’s dresser to get some fresh undergarments.
He lounged on the bed with a towel wrapped around him, too. After they’d made love, they’d taken a shower together, but she’d remained in the bathroom to apply her makeup and blow-dry her hair.
His hair, she noticed, was still a little damp, combed away from his face and styled with a dollop of gel.
He smiled at her, and she slipped on her bra and panties and put her towel in a nearby hamper. Once she found the courage to return his smile, she looked through her side of the closet. She didn’t want him to know how nervous she was about having dinner with his family.
“Do the Ashtons dress for their meals?” she asked.
“Nope.” He drew his knees up, nearly flashing her. “We eat naked.”
She sighed, almost laughed, wished he wasn’t so damn charming. “You know what I mean.”
“Lilah always dresses for dinner, but you don’t have to worry about that. Just wear whatever feels right.”
She scanned her modest selection and decided on a white skirt, a white blouse and a beaded belt she’d bought from a Lakota craftswoman. She added a noticeable array of silver and turquoise jewelry she’d acquired over the years.
“Now you really look Indian,” Walker said.
She turned to face him, preparing for a fight. “Is that a problem for you?”
“No. I like it.”
She let out the breath she was holding. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He frowned a little. “I’m not ashamed of your heritage, Tamra. Of my heritage,” he added. “I’m comfortable with who we are.”
“Are you?” she asked, hating how temporary their affair was, how throwaway it suddenly seemed.
A fire ignited in his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You would never relocate to Pine Ridge.”
“Is there a reason I’m supposed to?”
Caught in an argument of her own making, she fussed with a wide silver bracelet, tightening it around her wrist, squeezing the edges of the metal. “No, of course not.”
He didn’t drop the subject. “It’s a bit late for me to start my life over, to move in with my mom and pretend that we haven’t been separated for twenty-two years. Besides, how would I survive on the rez? I’m the interim CEO of an investment-banking firm.”
“Interim? You took over Ashton-Lattimer when Spencer died?”
“I was the executive vice president before he was killed. I’m the logical choice.”
“So you think the board is going to vote you in permanently?”
He nodded. “I’m on a leave of absence right now. But as soon as you and Mary return to Pine Ridge, I’m going back to work. I imagine it will happen then.”
She gave her bracelet another tight squeeze. “And you’re going to accept the position?”
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?”
She shrugged off his question, as well as the intensity in his eyes. She had no right to challenge his choices. He’d already warned her that happily-everafter wasn’t in the cards.
Then why did she feel so dejected? So fearful of losing him?
“I’m going to check on your mom,” she said.
“Dinner isn’t for another hour.”
“I know, but I want to see how she’s settling in.”
Tamra put on her shoes and ventured down the hall, leaving Walker alone in his apartment. She didn’t worry about getting lost