“Did you call me up here to tell me that this is too much temptation for you?” Ashlynn reached for Jase’s hands and placed them over her breasts, moaning when he touched her. “Do you enjoy watching when Jase pinches my nipples? Because I enjoy the fuck out of it.”
For only a moment did Jase consider putting a stop to this. Righting Ashlynn’s dress and carrying her out of there would’ve been simple.
Instead, Jase decided to go all in, pinching her nipples and preparing himself for what was to come.
After all, what the hell did he have to lose?
Chapter Thirteen
He would always be her shield from evil.
Eleven years ago
Ashlynn knew her father would be angry at her for hiding out in her room while everyone else was downstairs celebrating her fifteenth birthday, but she was also hoping they would think she had run away.
Well, one person in particular. Uncle Patrick. Her father’s older brother.
The mere thought of him made her want to puke. After last week, when he’d stopped by to check on her, or so he’d told her father, she didn’t want to be in the same room with him. He creeped her out. He’d always been strange, but it was during that visit that Ashlynn had known there was something seriously wrong with him.
Samuel and Patrick weren’t especially close, but that didn’t stop Patrick from always showing up uninvited. Apparently her uncle was pretty pissed that her dad was in command of the family instead of him, and he enjoyed making sure everyone knew how disgruntled he was.
A knock sounded on her bedroom door, and her eyes flew up, fear churning in her gut.
“Who is it?” she hesitantly called out.
“It’s me, sweetheart. I wanted to check on you.”
Oh, shit. Uncle Patrick.
“I’m not feelin’ well,” she lied. “I’ll be down in a bit.”
There wasn’t a lock on her door, so she knew he could come in if he wanted to, and to her horror, that was exactly what he did, closing the door behind him.
“What’s the matter, honey?”
She’d always known there was something weird about the way he looked at her, even when she’d been too young to understand. But she had no misconceptions now. He was a sick, perverted bastard, and for some disgusting reason, he had set his sights on her.
“Nothing. I’ll be down in a few minutes,” she told him, getting up from her bed and walking over to the vanity table she used to put on her makeup. She didn’t sit down, not wanting to be at a disadvantage with him there.
Her dismissal didn’t seem to faze him one bit. He approached, his slow perusal making her skin crawl.
“Are you sick?” he questioned, crowding her into the corner.
No, but she was going to be if he came any closer.
He lifted his hand and she flinched. When he pressed his clammy fingers to her forehead, bile rose in her throat.
“You don’t feel feverish,” he said in that soothing tone he thought made him sound as though he actually cared. “Is it your tummy?”
Her tummy? Really? He was a grown man and she was fifteen years old; couldn’t he think of a better word? Then again, Patrick had always talked to her like that. Treating her as though she were still a child, always wanting her to sit on his lap so he could hug her. Even tonight, at the party, he’d attempted to do so, but Ashlynn had pretended not to notice him.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to pretend now. He was crowding her, standing so close she could see the dark whiskers shadowing his cheek and smell the whiskey on his breath.
His other hand pressed against her stomach, and Ashlynn jumped back, slamming her shoulder into the wall.
“I just want to feel, to see what’s wrong,” Uncle Patrick told her. “I can help, honey. Trust me.”
“I think you should leave,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Is that any way to speak to your uncle?”
His hand pressed more insistently on her stomach, and she swallowed hard, wondering what he would do if she threw up on him. Because it was beginning to be a real possibility.
Her door opened and her father’s head appeared. He briefly regarded them. “Is everything okay in here?”
“Of course,” Patrick said, not bothering to look at her father. “We’re just talking. We’ll be down in a minute.”
Samuel’s ice-cold glare locked on her face, and Ashlynn felt a chill slither over her entire body. He knew what was going on, but he didn’t have any intention of stopping it.
God, she hated him almost as much as she hated Uncle Patrick.
The nauseous feeling returned.
“I’m ready to go downstairs now,” Ashlynn blurted. “I’m feeling better.”
“No, you’re not,” Patrick said matter-of-factly. “Close the door, Sam. We’ll be down when we’re done … talking,” he told her father.
“Do what you need to do,” Samuel said, his tone far too casual for what was going on. “But you need to keep it down. You don’t want Max coming up here.”
Yes, she did. Ashlynn definitely wanted Max to come looking for her. Maybe he would stop Uncle Patrick from … whatever it was he was doing.
Her father met her eyes once more, not an ounce of remorse on his face, then slipped back out of the room, closing the door behind him. Ashlynn tried to free herself from between Patrick’s body and the wall, but his hand pressed down harder on her stomach, his other hand sliding to her thigh.
She knew she shouldn’t have worn a skirt today, but she’d wanted to look nice for the party. Namely, she’d wanted to look good for Leyton. But now, the short skirt made her feel underdressed.
“I’m fine, Uncle Patrick,” she told him hurriedly, meeting his gaze. “I really am ready to go back downstairs.”
His hand trailed up her thigh, and she instinctively reacted, pushing him away. Before she could escape, he grabbed her, spinning her around and slamming her onto her bed, facedown.
“I’ve been waiting for this day,” Patrick growled against her ear. All pretenses that he was worried had vanished completely.
Ashlynn squirmed, trying to get free, but he had one hand on the back of her neck, forcing her face into her comforter, which meant screaming wouldn’t do much good, though she tried, anyway.
“Stop! Don’t do this!” Unfortunately, the words were too muted to be understood. She cried out when his hand roughly went between her legs, his fingers tearing at her panties.
Oh, God! What was he doing?
Ashlynn kicked and flailed, desperate to get away from him, but he was so much stronger.
“You heard your father,” Patrick said. “You need to be quiet. It’ll be much easier if you just do as you’re told.”