As soon as the heavy wooden door to our apartment shut, I was already spinning on the ball of my foot, slamming my solid fist into Ashton's defined jaw as he closed the door, not realizing what was happening until it had already occurred. My side was aching in screaming pain as the hook met Ashton's face but I didn't care. I just wanted to punch him. He did have an extremely punchable face.
Not that that was important.
Ashton pursed his plump lips, not even responding to the pop of his jaw when he rolled his neck in response. "I suppose I deserve that," he muttered, speaking in English for the first time since yesterday. For knowing six languages, Ashton was flawless with his English despite his faint French dialect. He had lived in Paris for four years but it was still unclear how much of that time he had been abroad. Regardless, he picked up the accent and abandoned his former one; whether that was Palestinian, Israeli, or both.
"No fucking shit," I grumbled while running my hand through my chestnut hair, turning and walking towards our bedroom. "Hit me all you want, but just know I'll hit you back just as hard at home. You're lucky your face needs to be intact to look normal, otherwise, I would have mauled you by now."
"I wouldn't expect any less," he quipped from the doorway as I kicked my heels off, setting them in the closet before padding my feet across the lush white carpet and grabbing a T-shirt from one of the dark mahogany drawers. I placed the folded cotton on the white comforter, reaching back to unzip my dress, the corner of my lip twitched on an almost microscopic level at the jolt of pain I wasn't expecting.
"Let me do it," Ashton said in the tone that wasn't exactly diplomatic. I don't think he ever was. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't pissed at Ashton because this was part of the job, but I wasn't happy. I don't think anyone is after getting strangled and their ribs broken.
Regardless, I dropped my hands and let Ashton unzip the black dress, his warm knuckles brushing my spine as he did so. The feeling of his skin brushing mine continued to trail down my torso before stopping at the end of the gold zipper, just above my ass. He took a step back, the colder air of the apartment pricking my skin as I shrugged the material off, bending down to slide the tight dress over my hips. I could feel Ashton's intense ocean eyes on my body but he didn't dare make a perverted joke like usual.
The heat stayed with me, the type of fiery glance that the person giving it had to want you to feel. And I felt it all right, right on my broad hips and my voluptuous behind. I rolled my eyes to myself just as I felt his gaze shift to my abdomen when I folded the dress and plopped it on the bed, picking up the white shirt and brushing past Ashton to go to the bathroom.
"Tomorrow we should probably have lunch together," I muttered, flipping the light on and examining the two-deep purple fingerprints on either side of my neck where Ashton's grip had been the strongest.
"Twelve?" He asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest while leaning against the wall of the bathroom.
"Sure," I responded simply. We had to make sure our cover was consistent at work too. Married couples would stick together, especially when one is new to the country. It only makes sense for our first day of work.
"I'm sorry, Athena. I didn't mean to hit you that hard." Was I diluted for thinking he sounded sincere? I ran my tongue over my teeth while my pupils flickered to Ashton in the mirror but he was already looking directly at me. "To be fair, I didn't try to break your ribs either."
"I know," I told him. "It's been broken before. It's not exactly your fault. It's just a cover." But I'm sure he relished in every moment of it.
"Doesn't change the fact that I still did it. Since we're working together and all, I should probably apologize for waterboarding you too."
