Fifteen Weekends by Christy Pastore Read Free Book Online

inches from where she stood, visualizing the two of them rolling across the satin sheets together in a tangle of limbs.
      Catching her stare, Liam shot Ashleigh a wolfish grin. She managed to snap out of her lustful thoughts and say, “I’m sorry. I definitely wouldn’t want you to be tired for your meeting tomorrow.”
      “Ashleigh, darling I had such a lovely evening in your company. May I see you again tomorrow?” Liam approached Ashleigh slowly. He slipped his hand around her waist kissing her gently on each cheek. Ashleigh could feel the heat radiating from his bare skin. Her knees weakened and her heart raced. He released her from his grip and she managed not to lose her balance.
      “I would like nothing more Liam,” she said while looking up at him through her long lashes. “Thank you for a wonderful evening. I am so glad I met you.”
      They exchanged business cards and made plans to meet for lunch before attending the rest of their scheduled events for that day.
      Bang!
      A loud thunderclap awoke Ashleigh from her slumber. Lighting flashed, illuminating the entire room. Climbing out of bed she padded to the window and drew back the sheer curtains to view the spectacular light show. Thunder and lightning volleyed like Rodger Federer and Andy Murray during a match of the Wimbledon finals.
      Ashleigh stood in silence clutching her arms entranced by the beauty of the dark cloud formations. Adrenaline began pumping through her system as she counted the time between each intense rumble of thunder waiting to see where the next bolt of lightning would strike in the ominous blackness. The anticipation was almost too much for her to handle as her eyes darted around the skyline. Ashleigh’s throat went dry, her breathing increased and a sharp pain slashed across her arm. The sound struck with the force of a giant bass drum raging through her entire body.
      Stumbling slightly, her back hit the wall; Ashleigh released the tight grip she had on her arm feeling the warmth of blood flowing over heated skin. A sharp exhale escaped her lips as she slid down the wall. Reaching for the desk Ashleigh tore away a piece of paper from the notepad and covered the mark she dug into her flesh. Hot tears pricked her eyes as the white paper turned dark crimson. Burying her face in her hands Ashleigh allowed herself a good cry.
      Choking back the sobs as the bleeding stopped, calmness spread over her when the rain began to fall, loosening the tension knotted in her stomach. Forgetting the pain of that dark afternoon, she jerked her phone from its charger flipping to a photo of him. A ghost of smile crossed her lips.
      Some people like rumbling sound of thunderstorms. Ashleigh used to enjoy them, but they had become a continuous painful reminder of what she’d once loved and eventually lost.

Chapter Eight:
    Emily

     
      Emily sat with her legs curled under her on Ethan’s black couch, the warm buttery leather felt heavenly to touch. His office was warm yet masculine and smelled like cedarwood mixed with vanilla. A sleek dark espresso desk occupied the space in front of the back wall with a black leather high-back chair, both from Cooper Bentley’s Classic Collection. Tucked into the corner was a minibar, gorgeous etched crystal drink ware delicately lined the countertop. A separate conference table, with seating for six, sat a few feet to the left of his desk. Black and white photographs, mostly of landscapes and nature, lined the walls in dark espresso colored frames. A large flat screen television sat on the wall across from his desk streaming various sales and marketing videos, world news - especially the BBC, or sometimes one of the music channels. Ethan’s choice of music ranged from seventies rock, frequently playing tunes by Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones and The Who, to anything by 311. Tonight, Ethan had decided to watch the local news to monitor the storm.
      Ethan suggested to Emily that they would