It’s the last night of law school and I know one thing for sure: I’m not leaving until I’ve seduced Ashton Pierce.
I sneak a look across the table at him. There’s a whole group of us out to dinner to celebrate: future lawyers like me, and a bunch of guys from his MBA program too, but as usual, he’s the only one I notice.
Damn, he’s sexy.
It’s no secret that Ash is the hottest guy on campus. He sets hearts fluttering and panties dropping with just a look of those intense blue eyes -- and the rest of him is just as devastating. Dark hair. Square-cut chiseled jaw. A lean, muscular body that looks just as good in his wardrobe of crisp shirts and dark denim as it does out of them.
And did I mention he’s British too? I swear, I could come just from listening to him talk, and I’m not the only one. His reputation is legendary, he’s scored with almost every girl on campus, and they all promise he’s the best lay they’ve ever had. In fact, there’s only one person with a reputation that even comes close.
Me.
It’s why we’re such good friends. He loves how I give as good as I get. No bullshit, just real talk. The first night we met at a local bar, we were both with other dates, but by the end of the night, it was just the two of us in the corner booth, trading war-stories and drinking each other under the table until the bartender threw us out.
We made a pact then and there that we’d just be friends, no awkward fling to screw things up. It made sense at the time. I was too focused on kicking ass in law school to deal with a relationship, and he was relishing his freedom away from all his responsibilities back home in England. Casual hook-ups are a dime a dozen in law school, but a real friend? That was something worth holding on to.
And I have done, for two whole years. Now Ash is pretty much the closest person in my life -- and I’m going out of my mind with wanting him.
“I think I’m going to call it a night.” Scott, the guy sitting beside me gets to his feet. “I’ve got an early interview in the morning.”
“Come on!” I exclaim. “Live a little.”
“It’s a jungle out there,” he shakes his head. “Eager new associates are everything. That shiny new law degree won’t mean a thing if we can’t find a job.”
“Or pass the bar exam.” Another classmate sighs, looking stressed.
“C’mon,” I cheer, trying to rouse them. “The real world can wait. Tonight, we celebrate making it through the toughest, most sleep-deprived, hardcore three years of our lives!”
The others cheer and toast, and I feel a surge of pride. I still can’t believe I’ve made it this far. I busted my ass in high-school, worked nights and weekends to get myself through college, and now I’m about to graduate from one of the best law schools in the country.
Not bad for a kid from Chino.
Scott lingers, leaning down to whisper. “You want to walk me back?” he asks.
“I thought you had an early start,” I tease.
He grins. “Not too early. What do you say?”
His hand caresses my shoulder. I pause. We’ve hooked up a couple of times this year, and it’s been fun, but tonight, there’s only one guy I’m thinking about.
The one I’m always thinking about, even when I won’t admit it to myself.
“I think I’m going to stay out, get a couple more drinks,” I tell him. “Good luck.”
Scott grins, “You too.”
He saunters off -- and gets intercepted by a girl from our Con Law class by the door. Yeah, Scott won’t be crying into his pillow tonight. At least, not unless that girl is way kinkier than she seems.
I turn back to the table. It’s late, and there’s only a small group of us left in the pizza place. Ash catches my eye. He raises his eyebrow, nodding to Scott.
I shrug, and give him a mysterious smile. I take another sip of beer, looking casual, but inside, my heart is racing.
Shit, I’m really going to do this.
I’ve been planning it in the back of my mind all week, ever since it finally hit me that tonight’s my last chance with him. Come tomorrow, Ash will be heading back to England for the summer, and I’ll be working 24/7 trying to prove myself at the new firm. No more late-night study sessions in the library, or early-morning greasy pancakes at the diner down the street.
No more us.
All the reasons against making a move have suddenly disappeared into thin air, and there’s no ignoring it anymore.
I want him so much I could scream.
I look back. Ash gives me one of those panty-melting grins, and I feel a shot of lust go straight between my thighs. I shift in my seat, already damp through my good-luck black lace panties.
He doesn’t know what I’ve got planned for him yet.
There’s a beat, then Ash gets up and comes to slide into the seat right beside me. “You know, JJ, there’s a 1996 cabernet still on the table,” he points out, greeting me with the nickname only he uses.
“I’ll take my Bud, thanks.”
“Philistine,” he teases, his blue eyes flashing.
“Rich snob,” I shoot back with a grin. This is our thing. He’s been trying to school me in fancy wines since the night we first met, but I’m happy with beer or whiskey. I decided a long time ago I wasn’t going to waste time pretending to be someone I’m not.
“So how does it feel, Miss Future Big-Shot Lawyer?” Ash asks, lounging back in his seat.
“Fucking fantastic,” I grin. “My mom is so proud, she managed to get time off work to come up for graduation.”
“That’s great.” Ash replies. “My dad just left me a voicemail. ‘I hope now that your foolish vacation is over, you’ll be returning to take care of your duties,’” he mimics in an upper-crust tone.
I give his arm a sympathetic squeeze -- and try not to get distracted by the feel of his bicep. “Like an MBA is a vacation,” I snort.
“To my family, it’s like I ran off to join the circus.” Ash sighs, looking downcast.
He comes from a rich, aristocratic family in England, the kind that has estates and companies and is in line to inherit the throne. If a freak accident wipes out half the royal family, that is. Other guys would be lording it up around campus with a background like that, but Ash keeps it under wraps. He’s under a ton of pressure to follow in his father’s footsteps, when really he wants to strike out on his own.
I grew up in a two-room apartment above a Chinese takeout place, not a castle, but I know how he feels, wanting to break free from the past. It’s one of the reasons we understand each other so well.
“Enough pouting -- not that you don’t have the cutest little pout,” I add, squeezing his lips together like I’m petting a baby.
He laughs, batting my hand away. “Watch it, woman.”
“Make me.” I laugh.
He grabs my wrist. Our eyes catch. Damn. Heat rushes through me at his firm grip, and I swear, I see the glitter of desire in his eyes. Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking, because Ash sounds totally casual as he releases me and gets to his feet.
“What do you say we blow this joint? The night is young.”
“I’m with you,” I say, reaching for my purse.
I want him so bad.