CHAPTER 21

 

 

One Year Ago—I'll Show You Mine

 

Charis: This one's serious. Did your mom or dad ever cheat on each other? Hey, don't look at me like that, it happens.

Asher: Not to my folks. There are six of us, Char. Does it look like they cheat?

Charis: No, of course not. I was just wondering.

Asher: They hump like bunnies. Each other. If Dad even leers at another woman, Mom withholds food.

Charis: What about your mom?

Asher: She flirts with everyone in existence. She says it's her duty as a Southern Belle. Dad keeps her in line.

Charis: Your family is really happy.

Asher: Yours isn't?

Charis: You'd think they'd be happy. I mean, my folks are all bohemian and preaching tolerance and peace all the time. You'd think they'd be relaxed and zen about life. But it's like nothing ever satisfies them and they get into these bitchy fights and now I just learned they regretted ever having a kid.

Asher: No fucking way.

Charis: Well they were high when I went home last time and they said that. You know what's weird? They both had super-conservative upbringings. So the house they retired in—you know the house—

Asher: Yeah, nice house.

Charis: Grandma bought it for them. They love it but they won't admit it because it's such a normal suburban house.

Asher: Are these people actually adults?

Charis: Ha! They're always insulting me and saying I'm just like their stuffy parents and they expect me to get married to a boring guy and be in the rat race all my life.

Asher: The rat race. You.

Charis: I know, right?

Asher: You wouldn't even race the other rats. You'd just start asking everyone why they're running around and hand out questionnaires.

Charis: Very funny.

Asher: Being completely honest here. Your folks obviously don't know you.

Charis: Yeah. They think of themselves as these will-o-the-wisp snowflakes. That's why they pay for my education, they want me to get a well-paying career or find a rich husband so they don't have to be responsible for me anymore and so I can take care of them when they're old and they can go on being irresponsible getting wasted and making these crazy investments and donating to these ridiculous causes like castle restoration.

Asher: Castle restoration. Like…what castle?

Charis: I don't know, somewhere. It doesn't matter. That's the point. They're in Sri Lanka right now and when they come back, Mom'll make me feel guilty about her knee being damaged and Dad'll tell me all his tools will be mine when he dies and I'm supposed to promise them I'll support them in their old age even though I'll be living on somebody's couch by then.

Asher: That's fairly fucked up.

Charis: Yeah, and you know what the most annoying thing is? They don't even get that I can't be what they want. I picked a career that pays peanuts unless you can get tenure and even then it's not like—well—

Asher: Like being in business for yourself?

Charis: Yeah, like you. I'm not about to marry a rich guy and then not have any children so they can be my fucking children.

Asher: Hey, that's why you don't want to get married, isn't it? It's not about that wedding dress shit. You don't want to be forced to be responsible for your folks.

Charis: Maybe. But that would make me as fucked up as they are. I mean, we should want to love and support our parents when they get old. And I guess I do, I wouldn't be mean to them, they don't need to run off to a filial duty state or anything. I just don't want to sacrifice my whole life for them.

Asher: They're messing with you, working you over. It's manipulative shit. I'd do anything for my folks, but then I know they'd reciprocate. Would yours?

Charis: This is a depressing conversation. Let's get milkshakes.

 

Asher

 

BEFORE I DROVE OFF WITH MY prize—well, you have to admit it was pretty pirate-like, spiriting Charis away to my car under loud protest, watching those sexy nipples tell me what she really thought about being kidnapped—okay, not gonna lie, I'm a little preoccupied with Sloane's nipples—I texted Mel back: It was a female human, that's all you need to know.

"Is Karl really gonna go through with this?" Charis put her feet up on the dashboard.

"The wedding? Seems so. And thanks for getting shoe dirt on my dashboard."

"You're welcome. This weekend?"

"I doubt they can do it this weekend. There's a delay with a marriage license. You'd know about that better than me," I pointed out.

"Delay…oh, right, I guess there is. I don't know how long you have to wait after getting the license. Maybe a week? A couple of weeks?"

I slanted her a look. "You were going to get married, and you don't know. Nice attention to detail concerning your entire future, Sloane."

She shrugged. "All I know is, he has to be married by his thirtieth birthday. I guess she'll have time to change her mind."

"I doubt she'll change her mind." I gripped the wheel tightly. I definitely didn't want Charis thinking along those lines. If she wasn't convinced Aura would help Karl, she might consider going back to him. Her spurious sense of duty toward my lackadaisical brother was seriously annoying.

"Why do you think she's doing it? Marrying him, I mean. She can't have fallen in love with Karl that fast."

I considered. Funny how I hadn't really given it much thought before. Guess I was used to Aura's actions not making sense. "She wants a husband."

"For real, she graduated two years early to go to law school and now she's all about her MRS? Why would she do that?"

I shrugged. "It's a legit goal." I have no problem with a woman's aspiring to be a wife. I mean, why the hell not?

"Well she obviously doesn't love Karl and she doesn't need the marriage financially. I just wonder what's in it for her."

"Validation," I sighed. "She needs constant affirmation that she's desirable."

"Oh, crap, no, really?" I caught a flash of the horror in her eyes. "With Karl? She'll jump off a roof before their first anniversary," she said flatly. "You have to stop her, Asher."

"I'm not going to stop her and have you fucking go back to being engaged to him," I said, irritated. "What would I do to convince her, anyway? Promise to take her back?"

"No!"

Her answer was pleasingly emphatic. I tossed her a huge smile. "No?"

"She wasn't good for you." Charis was suddenly all into my glove compartment. "Hey, you have, like, an iPod in here. Is this an extra one? I can't believe the way you throw money around, dude."

I bit my tongue about the money. When she saw what I'd done to my house…But I knew she was trying to change the subject. "You jealous of my ex, dude?"

She froze, then carefully sat back. "Maybe."

I soaked that in.

And then she went on, "Okay, yeah, I guess I've fantasized about tearing her eyes out once or twice or ten times."

I was shaken. I'm not too proud to say my cock, already at half mast, shot up. "That's hot," I murmured.

It ticked her off.

"What's hot about jealousy? What a prick thing to say. I hate it."

"It's not that. I hate it too, believe me. But I like that you're not half as civilized as you act, Ms. Ivy Tower Sloane. I like that you want me, that you've wanted me, that you're telling me this. You wet right now? Mm, yeah, I'm not surprised," as I caught sight of the profile of her nipples and the flames in her cheeks. I reached over to take her hand. "I'm jealous of Karl. I don't want him putting his hands on you. For anything."

Now she was staring at me. "Weird."

I laughed. "What's weird?"

"You. It's not like you're the clinging type."

"No?"

"I watched you and Aura at parties." She sounded uncomfortable. "I've seen you drag her off of some guy's lap without acting mad. We've had long philosophical discussions about jealousy, remember? You don't get jealous, you said."

"Yeah, well, this isn't like that. Don't sit on another guy's lap. It'll piss me off."

"Oh." She was silent for the rest of the ride.

I was, too, recalling one of the aforementioned conversations about jealousy. I'd breezily claimed nobody could ever pose enough of a threat to make me jealous. Yeah, that was apparently bogus. When Sloane had gotten engaged to Karl, I felt like he'd stolen what was mine.

What she didn't know was this was different. I'd never doubted I could have Aura. I knew she flirted with other guys, but she'd always choose me over another guy. Most women would. I guess you'd call that arrogance. Whatever. My track record can back me up.

I didn't have the same confidence with Charis, though. There was no reason to assume she'd choose me over someone, say, closer to her in age.

As much as she acted like she didn't care what people thought, she did care when people were bothered by our piddly little insignificant age difference.

Yeah. I was insecure and I didn't like it at all.

 

THE MOMENT SHE STEPPED inside my house, my cock went from hard to painfully hard. You got her, yep, that's the one, it said. Quick, take her before she changes her mind about us. I debated stripping her of all her clothes right there where she stood in my foyer.

"Something's different. Did you paint? Oh," as I backed her against the wall.

"I am so fucking on fire for you, Sloane. Kiss me."

Our mouths met and I slid her up the wall, and that corduroy fabric did nothing to block out how warm she felt as I pressed against her crotch with my knee. But then I needed to touch her so I lowered her again. I slid my hand down her pants and hooked her panties to the side.

My fingers encountered moisture and welcome.

That made me very, very happy.

"Dinner," she gasped. "Feed me."

"You're gonna come for me first," I said, rubbing the slick, erect clit she was harboring. "I need all the yelling as an appetizer. Makes me hungry for the main course."

She squirmed and moaned, and the contrast between Articulate Charis and Aroused Charis was so sexy and adorable I nearly shot my load.

Not again. I told myself to keep it in line as I eased one finger inside her and busied myself pleasurably.

"Asher. Asher. Asher!"

"What a sweet little clit," I teased. "So hard and wet all the time. How long has it been wet for me, Char? All day? Or longer? What does a really long time mean? Since the day Aura and I broke up has it been wet to fuck me, maybe? Maybe as far back as Christmas? Did you miss me at Christmas this year and maybe get wet thinking about me?"

"Oh, God. So long."

And with her wailing confession, my hand was no longer enough for me. I dropped down to my knees, then tugged down her pants, an easy task as they fell from her hips as soon as I popped the top button of the fly. "Charis's poor little hungry wet clit needs a kiss. I'll have to take care of that for you, mi amiga."

With her pants and panties scrunched up around her knees and her pussy exposed at my eye level, she looked like a naughty fantasy. Abruptly my cock informed me I was a fool to think it could last through the long tonguing I wanted to give her.

"Let me see it," I rasped, my thumbs stroking the muscles above her knees. "Hurry. I'm drooling here, Sloane."

After a hesitation, giving a tiny whimper, she moved her legs apart. I saw the sheen of wetness on her inner thighs and bit my lower lip.

"Use your fingers to show me."

"Oh, shit."

I slanted my eyes at her agonized features. "Not going self-conscious on me now, are you, Sloane?"

"This is crazy."

Hands clasping her legs, I pressed a kiss above her mound and another on the front of her thigh, on her taut quadriceps. Her scent lured me. I growled and licked my way up, cleaning wherever my tongue could reach that enticing trail of arousal.

Char responded eagerly. Soon her breaths came quickly and her legs trembled.

I sat back. "You want a clit kiss, you'll spread yourself for me, girl. Wide open."

"Eee, don't say that!"

I pretended innocence. "Don't you want it? But that's what friends are for. I'm just being your buddy here. Haven't you ever thought it would be nice for your good buddy Ash to kiss you here when you have one of your itty bitty girl stiffies?"

Long, fascinating hesitation.

Then a squeal of defeat.

"Okaybutyoubetternotbemakingfunofme."

I stared in awe as her elegant fingers parted her flesh. My cock and my brain, both, went wild at the sight.

"Lustons," I breathed.

"Wh—what?"

"Lustons. You, Charis Sloane, are made of lustons. Microparticles of pure lust. Holy fuck, look at that pussy."

In opening herself up to me, it was like she'd let me in on a huge secret. She was just as I remembered, even better, dark, plump and badly swollen.

It was a pussy that needed fucking, and I was going to fuck it tonight.

"You're so beautiful. Your pussy is killer. I want it." My hands tightened around her legs. I inhaled deeply, then kissed her right where her cleft began, probing with the tip of my tongue.

"Asher."

I paused, aware of what that thin, strangled thread in her voice meant. Charis was even more worked up than I was. With barely any touching, just a little dirty talk, she was on the verge of orgasm.

On top of that, I'd told her she was beautiful and she didn't burst into tears.

My life at present was very good, very right.

I let her feel my breath. "Here you go, sweetness. One clit kiss, as requested, delivered to you."

I pursed up and smashed my mouth hard over her clit, sucking and drawing with my tongue while I thrust two fingers directly up her pussy.

Not slowly. Swiftly.

The thing about giving orgasms to ladies? I generally get off on slow build-up, but every so often I like to beam them directly to the land of O. Aura used to ask me how I did it, and Karl and Doug had never even heard of it. (Never asked Joel. Maybe I should. If any of my buddies knows about it, he would.)

Truth is, I'm not sure, myself. But I knew one thing—it's more a matter of sensing when a woman is ready than anything else.

Charis was ready. Within seconds of my suckling her clit and revving her G-spot, my girl went from zero to a hundred. She did what I'd imagined her doing all day as I'd nuked my house—screamed and sobbed and ground herself into my face.

I was left in no doubt that I'd just made her day.

By now you know you can trust me to go overboard with a little encouragement. When the climax kept on taking her, I kept it keeping on. Interspersing it with more dirty talk.

I kept my face in her pussy for it had to be twenty minutes, first while she stood, then while she writhed on the (clean now) parquetry floor. Rewarding her for being so goddamn sexy with her orgasms. And rewarding myself. Because damn, this woman tasted utterly, perfectly right.