Ashton wrapped his arms around my neck as soon as he was close enough, drawing me into a hug and gracing my face with kisses on each cheek. It wasn’t the usual way we greeted each other, which meant he was making a production.
I pulled away and glanced at the lady beside him. She looked like a starlet from the fifties, which was probably the point.
“Moll, this is Val. My oldest and dearest friend.” Ashton grabbed my hand, squeezing too tight. He was definitely on his way to being drunk. “And Val, this is Moll. She organizes this party and other events in the city. We met ages ago when I was modeling for Ford.”
“And he’s helped me on a number of projects since then,” she said, smiling at him. “Our boy loves to help.”
“I see.”
I tried to force an awkward smile, but thankfully Moll was still distracted by Ashton. When she reached out to stroke his face, literally petting him as he warmed to the attention while draped all over me, I shifted uncomfortably. Ashton was either oblivious or uncaring about the tension making my posture stiff and my body unyielding beneath his designer-wrapped limbs.
“Let me know if you need any more information about our mutual friend,” she said to Ashton after stepping back. “The Deckers do business with my husband, and I’ve met several members of his family.”
The Deckers? So this was about Brett Decker. The name put a sour taste in my mouth, but I didn’t ask anything further until Moll left us, and Ashton finally led me to the door. Relief flooded me once we were outside and away from the play areas and serious-looking security guards.
“So this is where you’ve been going?” I asked once we were out on the pavement with the autumn breeze whipping his hair back. “This is where you bring me the first time I come out in over a month? A fucking sex party?”
Ashton huddled deeper into his jacket—a trench coat with zigzagging zippers. Beneath it, he’d worn a slip of a dress. “It’s not like you don’t know I’ve gone to them before. It doesn’t even matter. Mostly I find it boring.”
“Yeah, but then why the hell did you bring me?” I demanded again. “The same reason you invited me to a wedding only to go make out with someone else?”
His mouth dropped open, and he spluttered before saying, “No, that just happened. I didn’t think you’d be upset.”
Because he didn’t know the sight of him touching someone else drove me up the wall. And I couldn’t tell him. I took another breath.
“I’m not upset. I just don’t know what you’re trying to prove.”
“I’m not trying to prove anything,” he said. “The thing with Charles at the wedding just . . . It just happened. He was upset about his on-again, off-again boyfriend, and I wanted to make him feel better. And I already told you why I came here tonight. I expected you to wait outside. I knew you’d shit a brick if you saw someone getting blown at the bar.”
“You told me the doorman was expecting me.”
“Yeah, so he would know why you were loitering around! I didn’t want him to think you’re a weirdo or a reporter.”
There was no point in arguing. Exhaling slowly, I uncurled my fists and changed the subject. “Is that really the entire purpose of that place? To have sex with people in public.”
Ashton glanced up at the building. “It’s a safe place for folks who need discretion because their sexual desires are not accepted by society. Basically, my people.” He frowned slightly. “Well, most of them. They’re not like the Deckers or even the Townsends. They’re queer and poly and kinky, and LX is the only place they have—we have—where we can be ourselves without having to worry about blackmail photos and gossip columns.”
“That’s great, but it’s not my scene. And next time I’d appreciate a heads-up before you spring it on me.” I started toward where I’d parked my car, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Those fuckers think the only reason you’d hang out with a broke-ass bastard like me is if I’m good in bed. You wanna tell yourself they’re different just because they’re queer, that’s fine, but I have news for you—those people are all the same. They see me and think I’m the help. One way or another.” I walked over to the Camry and jerked the passenger’s door open for him. “Get in.”
Ashton paused on the curb, hands clasped together. “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you home. If you want to go somewhere else, you can go on your own.”
“Are you coming up with me?” he asked, eyes narrowing. “Or am I being grounded because I sometimes like being fucked in public?”
“It has nothing to do with that.”
It had a lot to do with that. Because everyone in this fucking city got to touch him but me.
I walked around the car, getting in the driver’s seat without another word. After a long pause, Ashton followed. He clicked his seat belt into place while staring ahead.
“I’m sorry if anyone made you feel that way. I can talk to—”
“I didn’t need you taking up for me when we were kids, and I don’t need you doing it now,” I said. “Just forget about it.”
Ashton looked down at his lap, fingers twisted together, and didn’t reply.
It didn’t take long to get from Liberty X to his place on the Upper West Side, but my mind was going the entire time. Was I really pissed about what that asshole had said, or was it more jealousy?
I rolled my shoulders and cracked my neck, fingers tightening on the wheel.
“Why are you so judgmental, Val?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. That’s why you’re so angry.”
“You have no idea why I’m angry.”
He rested his head against the frame of the window and looked outside. “You said it was because people like me are snobs.”
“They are.”
He grew silent again, turning inward on himself, and that was the only reason why I left my car with his doorman and went up to his apartment. That, and the flash I kept getting of his eyes zeroing in on me in a crowded room. And the way he’d smiled as if I’d been the only one there, even though his very presence had been like a lightning strike everyone else had immediately turned to look at.
“Why is it so upsetting?” he asked, already shedding his trench coat. He pulled the dress off and dropped it on the floor, leaving him in nothing but tight designer underwear. “Do you think I was trying to arrange for you to walk in on me with someone else?”
I stopped halfway into the room and kept my attention on his accusing stare instead of his bulge and the hint of pubic hair.
“No. I don’t think that.”
“Good. Because I wasn’t. And even if you had, I don’t understand why it bothers you so much. Just like I don’t understand why the thing with Charles bothered you so much. Sometimes I can’t tell if you just don’t like me to pay attention to anyone else when we’re supposed to be together, or if you just really need to get laid.”
Greedy for his attention had been a state of my existence for years, and it was likely apparent, but I said, “You got me, Ash. I’m horny, and being around a bunch of rich, sexed-up assholes made me realize I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”
Ashton tilted his head. “Because you don’t want to or because you haven’t had time?”
“Both. There’s no one I’m interested in.”
This was usually the point when Matt or Hana would ask why I didn’t just go on Tinder or OKCupid and find a hookup, but Ashton just nodded. He knew better.
“If you want to get laid, I know plenty of people who would love to get your dick wet.” When he said it, his tongue flicked over his lips and his eyes dropped to my crotch. “Or maybe we can . . . find someone for you to date. Someone nice. And eventually . . .”
“No,” I said. “It’s not that serious. And you’re making it about that and not the fact that you should have warned me I was walking into a sex party.”
“I didn’t think you’d come inside,” he reminded me. “But besides that, did you see anything that . . .” Ashton spread his hands, “turned you on? Even if you don’t want to touch anyone, or to be involved, sometimes watching is really hot.”
“I didn’t see anything,” I said stubbornly.
Ashton rolled his eyes and moved closer, his head cocked and mouth set in a teasing little smile. “Oh come on, babes. You weren’t even a little curious? I could hear Jace moaning all the way upstairs.”
“Is that who that was?” It was out of my mouth before I could stop it, but I could still hear him. The anguished sounds and wordless pleas accompanied by rhythmic grunts.
“Yes. He and his husband are swingers. They play together with other people.” Ashton took a step closer. “Last I saw, they were having a threesome. Jace likes it when Aiden and their third take turns.”
“Good for them. Sounds really fantastic, but that doesn’t turn me on.”
Ashton closed the space between us and grabbed one of my hands. I kept my eyes on his face, refusing to look down at his sculpted chest or the way a very faint golden happy trail led down to his underwear.
“Not into threesomes when you watch porn?”
“I think I can barely find one person I want to fuck, let alone two.”
Ashton brought my hand up to his mouth. He loved kissing my swollen and bruised knuckles, like he could heal them with only a brush of his soft lips.
“Forget who you’d actually let touch your body and think about what turns you on when you jerk off.” His gaze rolled up to me as he grinned against my hand. “And don’t tell me you don’t get dirty when you touch yourself. I’ve seen it firsthand.”
My fingers twitched, but I didn’t pull my hand out of his grasp. If he wanted to know why I’d started avoiding him over time, this was why. The way my body reacted to him, my increasing jealousy, but also . . . how he’d started keying into it and being more . . . like this. Touching me for reasons other than his usual cuddling and hugging. Like he knew I had it bad, even if he had a hard time believing it.
But maybe that was why he was writing it off as me being hard up.
“Stop, Ashton.”
“Why? It’s not like we haven’t talked about sex before.” He raised his eyebrows and rubbed his face against my hand. “Not like we haven’t . . . had sex before.”
I tensed as he looked down at the growing erection pushing against the fly of my pants, and stepped out of the way just as he made a grabbing motion.
“Ashton,” I said gruffly. “Behave.”
“You’re horny,” he said, eyes still fixed on my crotch. “I’m horny. Might as well . . . do something about it.”
“We’re not fucking.”
His gaze flashed up at me. “I never invited you to fuck me, babes. But what’s a little voyeuristic masturbation between friends?”
“Nonexistent.”
He tossed his hair over his shoulder, in full vamp mode, and grabbed the bulge stretching out his own underwear. “We used to do it all the time. It’s totally safe because we know it’s just platonic, right? No strings. No weirdness.” Ashton squeezed himself when I kept staring. “And it’s been so long since we’ve played around.”
“Yeah, because we’re not kids discovering porn anymore—”
“Umm . . . we got off together way after that time period, dear,” he said, speaking over me.
“And I’m no longer dumb enough to believe you when you tell me to come in your mouth to avoid the mess.”
“So come in my mouth because I like to swallow. You had no problem with my semen fetish the night you nailed me.”
My hands were practically having spasms because my body wanted to react to his words even as my brain told me to get the hell out of the room. Except I was already picturing it, and my dick was getting even harder. God, how did he do this to me?
“Come on,” he coaxed. “It’s not like we’ll touch each other.”
No.
It was a bad idea.
But even as I repeated that in my head, I said, “Fine.”
“Fuck yes,” Ashton breathed, eyes going wide. “Come here.”
I was stock-still, staring and trying to make myself go back on what I’d just said, or do a ha ha, just kidding, but I couldn’t. I let him drag me closer to him, unzipped my jeans as he wriggled out of his underwear, and clamped one hand down on his shoulder before pulling out my dick. It would have been difficult to miss the way his lips parted, or the hungry way he licked them. And it was almost impossible to stop from tracing the sheen of his saliva with my own tongue once he pressed his forehead to mine and started stroking himself. But I managed.
I jacked myself hard and fast, gripping tight as Ashton stared directly into my eyes. I could feel the motion of his arm as he fucked his own hand, and my gut tightened every time the sticky tip of his cock grazed my skin. My eyes rolled back, and I swore as my orgasm built in my gut and my balls drew up tight. He didn’t even have to touch me to drive me insane.
“You look so hot when you’re turned on,” he whispered. “Eyes dilated and so intense. The way you bite your lip.”
I squeezed my eyes shut to keep from seeing how close his mouth was to mine, but my hand on his shoulder squeezed harder. Dragged him just slightly closer. He pressed our faces together.
“I’m gonna be so jealous of the next person who gets to see this gorgeous face while you’re inside of them.”
“Fuck, Ashton,” I said raggedly. “Shut up so I can come.”
“Can’t come if I talk dirty?” His hot breath was moist against my face. “Can’t come if you know I’m picturing you fucking someone? That big dick sliding into someone’s ass or pussy over and over . . .” His breath hitched. “Nice and slow and deep while they moan and beg for more. Like Jace was doing tonight.” His voice dipped lower and thicker. “Like I do when I’m riding someone. Or . . . when I’m fucking myself and pretending it’s the guy I want.”
“What guy?” I croaked, hand flying over my dick. “Who?”
“I . . .” Ashton trailed off with a moan and pressed his face against my neck.
“Tell me,” I pleaded, all sense gone. “Please.”
“I—” His voice grew thick. “I—I’m already so close.”
“Me too,” I panted, mindless and horny and chasing my orgasm with faster strokes. “Oh shit.”
“Come on me,” he whispered.
I shook my head, brows knotting up as the pressure built.
“Please, Valdrin? I want to feel it all over me.”
The words, and the needy tone, sent me over the edge. I backed off him, cupping one hand under my dick while I shot into it, releasing so much that drops spilled. Harsh breaths ripped out of me accompanied by loud groans. Ashton grabbed my hand and uncurled my fingers. He rubbed my semen all over his dick, coating himself, and then sucked the leftover off his own messy fingers as I watched with wide eyes.
He threw his head back and came hard. His moans rivaled Jace’s, and the blissed-out look on his face was so perfect that I had to turn away to keep myself from kissing him.
“Mmm,” he breathed, sagging. “So good.”
He sprawled on the bed, sated and messy and flashing a wanton smile—a defiled work of art that had thoroughly enjoyed the experience. I tucked myself away and zipped up with trembling hands.
“Wasn’t that the best?” he purred, running a hand through the streaks of dampness on his bare torso. “So much more fun with a friend.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I inhaled and exhaled, trying to slow my breathing. I hadn’t blown that hard in months, and of course it would be while he was panting in my ear and whispering completely delicious filth. “Maybe next time don’t smear my jizz all over yourself.”
“It turns me on,” he said. “And you taste so good. Must be all the pineapples you put in your protein shakes.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “That’s great. We can stop talking about it now.”
“Aw, darling, why so regretful? We used to do this all the time. A little late to be adorably hetero-acting and shy.”
“I never said I was hetero, and it’s not about being shy.” I straightened my clothes. “But I don’t want you to think brojobs are going to once again be a part of our friendship. That’s in the past.”
“The past five minutes?”
“Ashton, you know what I mean. I don’t want any of this sex stuff coming between us. I just want us to be friends, okay?”
“Why would it come between us?” he asked. “I know you freaked out last time we fucked, but it doesn’t have to be—”
“Stop.” My voice boomed in the empty room, more aggressive than I’d intended. He sat on the bed again, clamming up. I hated how easily cowed he was sometimes, and wished he’d just tell me to shut my mouth and quit yelling. “Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole. I just don’t do this, okay? I don’t have casual sex or casual anything. It’s not me, and it . . . makes me nervous. Even if we played these games in the past, it’s different now.”
“Why?” He grabbed a shirt from the floor and mopped up the mess on his chest and stomach. “We’re just doing what we do in private in front of each other. I don’t see why that has to change or what’s different.”
Everything is different now, I wanted to say. Because now I know these feelings aren’t some passing crush.
And too much had happened for me to ever tell him how I felt. Even if there was a chance that he felt the same way.
“I don’t know,” I said finally. “But it’s not a big deal, okay? I’m just telling you I don’t want shit to get messed up. But it was fun. We’re cool.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Last time we fooled around and you were regretful—”
“It’s fine,” I said again, louder. “Let’s just clean up and eat.”
Ashton eased off the bed, liquid sex and so damn fine I had to stare at the wall. “Will you stay here tonight? I’ll behave and keep my snuggles innocent. I promise.” He inched his way toward the bathroom. “I liked sleeping next to you. It made me happy. Happier than I’ve been in a while.”
“Yeah, Ash. Whatever you want.”
He grinned like he’d just won a prize. “Thank you. I missed you so much.”
I smiled back, fainter. “Me too.”
Loud music yanked me from a deep sleep, and I knew without having to think twice that it was Ashton’s phone. There was no other reason why the chorus of a Lana Del Rey song would be playing on a loop.
“Ash.”
Ashton didn’t stir next to me. If anything, his fingers dug in harder. I reached around him to tickle his side, and he sneered instead of laughing. He was the only person I knew who was extremely ticklish, but who got ragey instead of giggly when anyone hit the right spot.
“Stop,” he growled. “Not getting up.”
“Turn your phone off, then!”
A long, pale arm swung out to reach blindly for his phone, which resulted in him sending random items crashing to the floor. Once he secured it, Ashton propped himself up to squint down at the screen.
“Important call?”
Ashton groaned and threw himself down to the bed with a huff. “I forgot Mere and Charles were coming over for morning mimosas. We’re also going to look at the pictures from the QFindr photoshoot.”
“When?”
“Two hours.”
I tried to push myself upright, but he instantly clamped his thigh around me again. The hard muscles flexed, pinning me in place. Anyone who thought Ashton was frail was definitely not paying enough attention. Or hadn’t seen him naked yet. He might be slim and tall, but his body was just as cut as my own. Given how much shit he ate, it was a surprise, but I’d put the gym rat into him after I’d taken up boxing as a kid. Now, he was hooked on that rush of endorphins.
“I’m not hanging out with your rich friends.”
“Charles isn’t rich. He’s a bartender and a dancer.”
“What kind of dancer?”
“He just got a gig doing those shows on cruise ships. This is the last time we’re having Saturday morning mimosas since he’s setting sail on Monday for several months.”
“Good.”
Ashton propped his chin on my arm, and stared down at me. “I thought we discussed this thing about Charles?”
“You discussed it, but I still maintain it’s fucked up that you forced me to go to that wedding and then ditched me.”
“Oh, come on. It was nothing. Trust me, I am not his type. We were drunk. It was a sympathy make-out.”
I tickled his side again, and he squirmed against me, glaring fiercely. “Next time you force me to go somewhere as your date, don’t have sympathy make-outs with other guys.”
“Unless you’re going to make out with me, I can do what I want.”
After swatting his thigh with an open palm, and rolling my eyes at his exaggerated hum of approval, I worked my way from beneath him. “Sorry, but you’re at a nine right now, and I need you to bring it down to a two or three. It’s early, I’m still hungry since all we ate was fruit and cheese last night, and I need to get out of here.”
Ashton sprang to his feet. “Where are you going? Can I make you breakfast?”
“You don’t have to make me breakfast.”
“I know, but I want to. I saw this really good recipe on YouTube the other night, and I want you to try it.”
My resolve crumbled. The combination of his pleading eyes and excited hops from foot to foot were too much to resist. Especially when I was being promised food. Ashton loved cooking almost as much as I loved eating, and his YouTube and Tasty obsessions benefited me whenever I hung around long enough to reap the rewards. And it’d been a minute since I’d stayed here long enough for that to happen.
“Fine. But I need to hit the gym.”
“If you stay until after morning mimosas, I can go with you,” he said. “Drunkorcise is a thing.”
“Not everything is a thing because you did it one time.”
“Yes, it is,” he deadpanned. “I’m a trendsetter. Ask my four million Instagram followers.”
“You mean that picture of you in the tights and headbands, with the bottle of vodka on a treadmill?” At his nod, I snorted. “You don’t even use treadmills. That was staged, you phony asshole.”
Ashton released a delighted laugh. “So you do creep on my Instagram.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m taking a shower.”
“You do that. I’m going to go make fried avocado toast and take a million pictures of me cooking them while naked.”
“Have fun with that.”
“I will.”
Biting back a smile, I turned to his bathroom and didn’t react when he dragged me backward for an impromptu hug that resulted in him kissing the side of my neck. For just a second, I closed my eyes and enjoyed his warmth and smell. The feel of him trailing dainty little kisses up to my jaw before he smacked his lips obnoxiously and shoved me away. My relief was so palpable, he probably felt it expanding like a force field around me.
Ashton was dangerous for exactly this reason—he made me drop my defenses and edged his way inside little by little until things spun out of my control. For the tenth time since I’d picked him up in the Hamptons, I cursed myself for caving almost as soon as he came calling. But on the other side of the token, being around him made me so damn happy that my insides were pulverized every time I’d told myself to stay away.
One day we’d find a middle ground. One day, I’d push these feelings for him under the ground where they belonged.