Down to Ash (#Dirtysexygeeks Book 2) by Melissa Blue

back, her job should be easy.”
    “Six weeks, since we don't pay for maternity leave.” Ash said it in a mutter because he was bending beneath her desk, checking the extension cords, and her thoughts had shifted to other important things.
    Had she left scratch marks? She remembered having clawed at him at one point. The combination of good genetics and working out had left him with a nice, firm ass. Recalling those heady moments washed away the bitter thoughts.
    She tilted her head.
    He chose that moment to look back. Ash smiled at him sweetly, as though she hadn't been checking him out.
    He narrowed his eyes and rose. “I'm going to put in new extension cords, too.”
    His powers to ignore were applaudable. Her stomach ached from trying to hold in everything she was feeling.
    “It all sounds good.” She hesitated, wanting to prolong the conversation if only for a second. “Alliance or Horde on WoW?”
    “Both.”
    She wanted to ask more, wanted to talk to him, and recap their weekend, at the very least. Wasn't that one moment great? And then that one? I know. We suck balls but wasn't it great? She dug her fingers into the chair's armrests to keep from doing just that.
    He clenched his jaw as though he knew she was about to fuck things up again. “Ash,” he barked.
    She lifted her chin. “Yes?”
    “Good,” he said. “Keep your shit together.”
    How in the hell did he know she was struggling? “Don't talk to me like I'm a new recruit.”
    His stare skimmed over her breasts before he looked away. “Never my thing.”
    Ash knew he'd been an explosive ordinance disposal tech. Grady had slipped up one day and told her. That was why she'd written to Victor as often as she could. That was why it hurt so much to see the tattoo with his name, Social Security number, and birthdate. He'd gone out every day during his service likely with the small prayer that, no matter what happened, his torso would remain intact. His family and loved ones wouldn't have to wait weeks for DNA tests to verify his death.
    She choked back the unexpected swell of emotion. “What was your thing, again?”
    That shut him up, because he never talked to her about the six years he'd been gone. He'd written her and asked her about little, everyday shit. He seemed to crave those details and she'd obliged him. He'd told her funny stories, but would never write a word about how he really felt, or about what was really going on.
    What little she knew, she'd picked up from the guys. Yet the news had always been the worst. They talked about IEDs, bomb squads, and soldiers coming home broken or in pieces. So, yeah, her brother wasn't the only one who'd thought she was too delicate to handle the hard truths. Most days, she hadn't thought disabusing them of the notion was worth the headache.
    So, again, she smiled at him all sugar and spice, knowing her facial tick would dig deep under his skin. That was only fair since he did the same just with a hard jawline and an unreadable gaze.
    He moved forward then leaned down, bracing his hands on the arms of her chair. “You know my thing.” His eyes had turned opaque.
    She knew that change in his eye color. Had craved it when he'd been in her bed because the subtle change meant more sex, more him. He so wasn't talking about the Army.
    “Really? I know your thing?” she said on a rush of air.
    “But what happens after we fuck again? You're not just someone I screw. I've known you since before you had boobs to shove in my face.”
    Heat flushed her skin. Offended at the accusation, she snapped. “I've never done that.”
    He glanced down. Her blouse was professional, but enough buttons were undone to give him a great view at his angle.
    “If I squint, I can see...” Vic said the words slowly, roughly.
    He leaned in another inch. For a heartbeat, she thought he'd use his mouth—that he’d trail it down her collarbone until he could close his lips around one of her taut nipples. She wouldn't give in first