between her spread thighs.
His mouth covered her, a hint of soap and whole lot of delicious Essie. He worked her higher, her moans and gasps telling him when the time was right. With a curse, he tore his mouth from her and quickly covered himself with a condom.
When he pushed inside her, she gripped his face, her blue stare burning into him in unspoken unity.
They climaxed together, eyes locked, cries mingling and the blurred and broken lines of fun scattered all around them.
* * *
Getting out of London, especially for the romance of an impromptu wedding at one of the UK’s most lavish private estates, complete with a boutique winery and hotel, carried a surreal quality akin to flying to Paris, just to go clubbing. Essie, giggly with excitement, relaxed back into the leather upholstery of Ash’s Mercedes, and tried not to drool at the confident, manly way he handled the luxury car.
It was the same confident, manly way he handled everything, especially when commanding her pleasure with skilled, devastating proficiency.
Ash was quiet, a fact she wanted to attribute to him driving on unfamiliar roads, but she couldn’t deceive herself after his late-night revelations. What should have been a joyous family occasion had huge potential to become a trigger. Hers wasn’t the only dysfunctional family in the world.
Essie shifted in the seat, restless.
That Ash had opened up to her on Saturday night enclosed her in a warm cocoon. She longed to reassure him about today. That his own pain at being left by his fiancée would pass. That his mother surely didn’t blame him for stepping up. That his sister had her own life to live with a man who wasn’t Hal Jacob.
Perhaps he regretted opening up to her. Many men struggled to talk about their feelings. She’d bide her time. He had enough going on with his family drama.
She’d spent all of Sunday, after a late start, where she’d crawled home from Ash’s apartment to catch up on mundane life things like laundry and bill-paying and checking on her flatmate. Of course, she also had to catch up on her latest blog post, entitled Love is in the air—is it catching? It was wedding season, after all. She glanced over at Ash, prickles of guilt dousing her high.
Her blog continued to attract new followers and the ads she’d incorporated on her website, featuring well-respected books on relationships, had high click-through rates. People couldn’t get enough of Illegally Hot, if the comments were any indication. But she hadn’t mentioned him in the last few posts. His pain was real—not entertainment fodder.
In the beginning, writing about her overwhelming attraction to Ash and his extreme bedroom skills had helped control the impact he’d had on her life. Helped her to rationalise that she was simply, for the first time, party to a healthy, equal-terms relationship based on spectacular sex. But now... She shuddered. Every social media mention, every new follower, every demand for more of Illegally Hot carried with it a hundred tiny barbs to her conscience.
Perhaps she should confess. Explain why she’d done such a reckless and thoughtless thing.
No. She’d never actually used any identifiers—he’d never know he was Illegally Hot. He’d never read the blog. And this wouldn’t last for ever—Ash would move on and she would chalk up this experience and believe in herself and what she had to say.
Because she was no longer Essie the downtrodden, the ignored, the inconvenient. She was part of something wonderful, respectful and mutually satisfying. And with a man as incredible as Ash.
And her relationship with Ben was also looking up. Essie hugged the memory of his thoughtful present to her chest. She’d all but sobbed over him on Saturday night.
I always wanted a sibling... I’m just glad it’s you.
That he would make such a heartfelt declaration went a long way to healing the past hurts and humiliations inflicted by their father. Ben respected her. He was starting to value her as a part of his life, as her inclusion in today’s nuptials proved.
Ash exited the A40 to Oxford and headed into the green and gold countryside. The sun glinted off fields of barley, filling Essie with a momentary sense of the contentment she’d craved her whole adult life. She was spending time with her brother and his friends, welcomed into his social circle.
An equal.
Valued.
Important.
‘What do you think of our English countryside?’ So Ash wouldn’t want to talk about Saturday night, or the wedding today, but they could still converse.
‘Very pretty.’
‘Don’t you miss New York?’ Of course she understood why working with his father at the family firm would be awkward, but why set up shop in London, why move away from your entire life?
He shrugged, non-committal. ‘The Jacobs are never absent from the business pages or the gossip columns for long.’ He concentrated on the road, his mouth a grim line. But Essie was more concerned about the growing constriction to her chest.
‘My...confrontation with my father happened in the open-plan offices of Jacob Holdings. Someone snapped a photo. The next thing I know, the whole humiliating business is splashed online, as if our sordid, fucked-up family drama is entertainment.’
Her lungs seized. He’d left New York to get away from his personal life and that of his parents’ divorce being played out like a soap opera on the internet?
He jerked his chin. ‘It was my fault. I hurt my mother. I should have spoken to Hal in private. When he confessed his...affair, I acted hot, without thinking, and I caused her pain. Humiliation.’
‘It wasn’t your fault.’ Her voice croaked past her scratchy throat.
He shook his head, nostrils flared. ‘It’s one thing to be betrayed by someone who’s supposed to love you. It’s another entirely to watch that devastation play out publicly, everyone judging, commenting, whispering.’ His lip curled.
Essie’s head spun. How could she tell him she’d used the amazing, no-strings sex between them as fodder for her blog? Poor, affection-starved, sex-starved Essie had cast aside her principles for a taste of success—the heady feeling of being taken seriously.
They’d travelled deep into the Oxfordshire countryside by now. Essie stared at the hedgerows without seeing the beauty, her mind churning in time with her stomach. Why had she been so impetuous? So irresponsible? Not only had she treated the man she’d come to know and to care for like a...like an object, she had no doubt Ash could slap her with a lawsuit that would blow her beloved blog and any future career as a clinical psychologist out of existence.
Should she tell him now about Illegally Hot?
He’d hate her. He’d call things off.
What if her poorly timed confession ruined the wedding? Harley deserved her big day. And his mother was flying in...
Hello, my name’s Essie. I shagged your son and then used the experience to flavour my online career...
What if she lost Ben and Ash in one fell swoop? She’d only have
