CHAPTER 27

 

 

One Year Ago—Can You Believe Those People

 

Charis: PDAs—good, bad, or neutral. PDAs being public displays of affection, not personal digital assistants.

Asher: Good. Wait, no, it depends.

Charis: On?

Asher: Getting arrested is bad. Giving her a thrill is good. Why are you looking at me like that?

Charis: Giving her a thrill? Are we talking about PDAs or public sex? PDAs are just kisses and hugs and stuff.

Asher: Kisses and hugs are public sex.

Charis: What? No, they're not.

Asher: So innocent. So unworldly. You ever kiss a guy in public, Sloane?

Charis: Sure. I mean probably. Maybe. I don't remember.

Asher: When you do, you can talk to me about PDAs. Until then, you know nothing.

Charis: Well what is it then? Spill it, Asher. What's so sexy about embracing in public?

Asher: Use your imagination.

Charis: I have a great imagination, and I can't imagine. PDAs aren't obscene, they're all clean fun.

Asher: Sure about that? You're looking kind of pink there. Well? Nothing to say?

Charis: I'm going to the gym.

 

Asher

 

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU'RE not coming in with me."

"Yes, I am."

Charis stood with her hands akimbo. "I'll have you know nobody has gone into a fitting room with me since the fifth grade."

"Not even your mom? I thought all mothers did that in order to rag on their daughters."

"Not even my mother. I mean it, Ash. I'd like privacy in here."

Charis was practically stomping her foot. I winked at the store clerk, who smiled slightly at us and withdrew to greet another customer. The place was getting busy.

"I want to watch you try on your dresses." I pushed Char into the dressing room, closing the door firmly behind us. "Otherwise you'll probably start reading the tags and start wondering where they were imported from and ask the sales lady all kinds of questions and we won't fucking get out of here till dusk."

"They're not my dresses." She didn't deny the rest, you'll note.

"One of them will be." I prayed it was true. One store was my limit.

"Maybe." She eyed the enormous hanging stack of garments I'd picked out for her.

Yes, that wasn't a typo. I, Asher "Shopping Is My Version of Hell" Norrell had gone shopping with Charis voluntarily. Hell, I'd initiated the whole expedition.

After our squabble at breakfast, we'd showered and then taken off. She still protested, but I had a plan.

My reasoning was as follows. Charis had dragged me to watch half a dozen Cinderella movies over the years. Out of this cruel act one useful takeaway emerged: babes get wet for party dresses.

We'd get a dress for her to wear tomorrow. It was going to be such an awesome dress that it wouldn't occur to her to obsess about being compared with Aura.

Right. Like I had such a great track record controlling the Doubting Mind of a Woman.

Still, there was no denying the magic power of clothing. My sisters still talk about Mel's wedding gown, four years later.

I'd even picked the store. We arrived as it opened its doors. I was determined to get in and out fast and back in time to receive those deliveries.

Unfortunately, I knew about these boutiques.

Larch Lady was a favorite of Aura's. Last time I'd sworn nobody could drag me through the lavender-trimmed doors again. You sat in these ridiculous carved chairs and were interrupted every five minutes trying to get some real work done on your phone while your girlfriend looked at every single item on every single rack.

Aura could literally spend half a dozen hours in here. One time we'd spent all morning in this hellhole, left for lunch and returned.

And all. The chicks. Flirted. It didn't matter that you were actually accompanying a woman; you got flirted with if you came in with a dick.

Aura isn't alone, either. My sisters are impossible to uproot from these kinds of places.

I thought Charis would be better, but she was equally exasperating, in a different way. She just stood there gazing around. She seemed completely lost and out of her element.

Since it looked like nobody else was willing to be the grownup here, I'd sicced the sales lady on her while I did all the hard work of scouring for dresses.

I wouldn't say it was entertaining, but interesting, yes. With us guys, you just plugged in some data—woven shirt, cotton-linen, long sleeves, blue, chest 46, waist 33—and you got immediate results.

These dresses hanging on the rack, you had to look at every one. They were colorful blobs to me. I had no idea how they'd look on Charis. In my world, a dress was something to get off a woman, not on. I wished Doug or Dad were here. Their superpower was being able to deduce from a flat shape precisely what it looked like assembled into 3D.

There was a drapey-sleeved semi-transparent something with a wrappy front. There was a green shiny item missing one shoulder but I don't think it had been sabotaged, it looked sewn that way. One peachy wisp of a thing looked like undergarments, so it got my vote. I snatched up a godawful ugly wrinkly garment that matched her eyes. And on and on.

After announcing her size, Charis seemed content to let me select for her while she drilled the shop lady with question after question. I listened with growing amusement.

Naturally her questions weren't anything sane like do you have anything in my size? or what colors are popular this season?

No, what I heard was, if this store suddenly had to stop selling clothing, what do you think would be a good business to start in a building like this and would you agree that the ushering in of synthetic fibers caused a radical shift in fabric production worldwide which in turn affected the production of fossil fuels itself—

"Yeah, she's gonna try these on now," I cut her off, rescuing the female sales clerk, a pretty brunette in her forties.

"Can't take you fucking anywhere, Sloane," I accused.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't know what to pick. It was your idea to come here, if you recall."

I snorted. "It's not the clothes, it's the questions."

"Was there a problem? The lady asked if she could help me with anything."

I lost the urge to tease her when she looked worried. "No, babe. My bad."

She looked around as if someone would arrest us for Talking With Endearments, then eyed me suspiciously.

I said no more. This is what it's like to be with Sloane in public, by the way. Every single time she steps out of the ivory tower, she leaves her head behind. She analyzes everything. She isn't like the other kids. She's more like Alice and the real world is her rabbit hole. It makes her curiouser and curiouser.

Now we were ensconced together in a dressing room, I waved at my booty. "Go ahead, try them on."

I watched the wheels spinning in her head as she tried to decide.

Clothes. Me. Clothes. Me.

She clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"Strip, woman." I raised my voice just enough to win this argument.

Rolling her eyes, she turned her back, whipped her shirt over her head and shimmied out of her slacks.

My mouth went dry.

Forget those unexciting undies, she was a land of hidden treasures. Fine bones tapering into curves, not angles as I'd once assumed, down her long spine to the dip of her waist…tight little ass but definitely not flat, lean, defined legs…and that was just her back.

The mirror at her front exposed the rest.

That part was pure sex.

Tiny bra cups for tiny breasts with jutting nipples.

A slim, toned abdomen and slit of a belly button.

Thighs that left a gap, a gap that should be widened.

Water pooled in my mouth. I wanted to push her down to the little seat, ease aside the crotch of her panties and help myself to her.

Here. This minute. In this fitting room.

I was literally shaking with the need to do it.

I looked away on a short laugh. It was like I'd never seen a woman in underwear before.

When I risked another glance, I caught her frozen, staring in the mirror at me. Her cheeks and chest were very pink.

I sauntered up to her. She skittered away from me.

"Hey, Sloane." My stare was intent. I now had a new goal that did not include getting her out of here ASAP.

"Hey, uh, fella."

"That's a nice bra."

"Yeah. Most of my bras are more…I mean, this is my nicest. It's nice. Thanks."

I let my hands settle on her shoulders and bent down to murmur in her ear. "Which one do you want to try on first?" Mischievously I pointed to each of her breasts.

I don't think she knew what to do with my suggestive talk. Her eyes slid away.

"Well?"

"Ahm, uh, I don't know," she squeaked. Her gaze shifted to the hanging dresses. "I saw a green one that seemed…possible?"

"That'll look nice on you." I brought her chin forward. Then capturing her eyes in the mirror, I cupped one little breast in my big palm.

Her teeth gnawed her lip. She shook her head.

I nodded slowly.

She shook it harder.

I rubbed my thumb across her nipple.

"Asher…" It was a hiss, broken off when I intentionally scratched her.

You'd think I'd lashed her with a bolt of electricity. The shock at my audacity!

Which only encouraged me. The way she tried to give me her Big Sister look while simultaneously arching, her ass sticking out in an invitation no guy could mistake…that's some drugging shit.

I kissed her nape, licked the delicate shell of her ear. "Hi there, Ms. Sloane," I whispered. "I bet I know how to get you in the mood for shopping."

"Oh, my God." Her eyes said, you wouldn't dare.

Yet she just stood there when I rolled her nipple through the cloth, then slid off the strap of her bra…exposing that ridiculously sexy nipple.

Stood there submissively. Taking it.

Asking for it.

Sloane, being submissive. Who knew she had it in her?

"Nothing to say?" I murmured. "Where's your attitude, girl? Not gonna put me in my place?"

She whimpered.

Fuck, if this was cradle robbing, I'd eat my phone. More like I was corrupting her.

Somehow I didn't think that thought would reassure her.

"Brace yourself," I said, careful to keep my volume low. There was a full-length closed door between us and the storefront, but it wasn't soundproof. Fact, not theory. Yeah, I might have gotten up to minor shenanigans in one of these dressing rooms before.

Minor, mind you. Not like what I had planned now.

In case you think I make a habit of pervy public behavior.

I really am a gentleman, though, nine times out of ten.

"What are you gonna do?" she whispered.

"I'm gonna pluck this tit," I said, demonstrating so she jerked involuntarily. "But you'll need to be totally silent. No shrieking. Quiet and still. No wiggling or bumping things either or they'll hear us out there. You game for this? Well?" when she just stood there with her mouth open.

She gave a tiny nod. "Go," she said.

Fucking adorable.

"Lean on me. Watch us in the mirror. Relax. This is just for fun."

Her breath caught and she leaned back. Her spine was the opposite of relaxed. "I can't believe this."

"I'll take care of you," I promised. "Anything you're worried about, I've got it. I promise, Sloane. I've got you."

She nodded. I felt her relax. Now I knew she could feel me hard against her.

Holding her eyes in the mirror, I stroked the flesh of her breast, swirling gradually inward towards the target in the center. By the time I reached it, I could smell how into this she was.

My hand itched to explore what was happening in her panties. Instead I used my teeth on her earlobe, a reliably erogenous zone for most females, while I ground my hips against her.

"Here's the plan." I spoke into the shell of her ear. "I'm just teasing your nipple now, but soon I'll start really working it hard. It might hurt just a bit. You just tell me if it's too much. While that's happening, I want you to think about your pussy. Not the people out there, not the store, not anything else. Only your pussy. You with me?"

Another nod. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks little flames, her chest blazing with a blush I suspected was four fifths lust and the rest shyness.

"Well?" she breathed, her eyes locked to my finger brushing her tit.

"The anticipation is killer, isn't it?" I murmured. "It's like that time we were in line at that county fair down in Walla Walla. You tried to cut in front of that old couple with their grandkid. You're a real impatient person, Sloane, you know that?"

She stuck out her tongue at me, but then moaned.

I licked the dent of her temple.

Felt her nipple stab against my fingertips.

"Asher! You're driving me insane!"

"Sh, keep it down. Ready to think about your pussy?"

Nod.

"But you're not gonna make a sound while it's happening, are you?"

Head shake.

"Okay. Here it comes. Get ready."

I gave her a couple of seconds…then I pinched her—hard.

My sweet girl responded beautifully. Her moan never made it past the choking stage, which was good, because if she let herself be as loud as I knew she could be, we'd get arrested.

So now I got busy.

A moment here to say something about my magic hands. This isn't ego talking. Straight up, I made a girl come while losing my virginity. You heard me—at only sixteen this happened. I've never told a living soul about that because—don't laugh—I've been afraid to jinx it. Karl and everyone had told me I'd be shit in bed at first. Nope, I killed it.

After such a good omen, I spent as much time messing around with girls as fucking them. One sweetheart had an aversion to being touched below the waist, so I kissed and fondled her breasts, enjoying her so long she'd come that way. That was a very good day.

After that, practice, practice, practice.

No need to belabor the point. Suffice it to say, by the time I graduated high school, I'd learned how to get a woman off in a variety of interesting ways.

Where you touched her mattered less than how. And how you touched her mattered less than how you read her signals.

In case it seems excessive that I wanted to bring Charis pleasure in the dressing room of a hoity-toity clothing boutique, I'll remind you that getting a woman off is one of my favorite hobbies, Charis is my favorite person, and I fucking hate shopping.

"You don't have to come," I teased in her ear. "But if you do, I'll make you fried chicken for dinner again."

Her eyes grew wild.

"I know your pussy is wet, Sloane. This is turning you on, the fact that we're messing around in here while out there a bunch of ladies are shopping in total ignorance. Am I right?"

She kicked her heel back, but it was only half-hearted.

"I can smell that you want to come. You want to come bad. Your pussy's tightening up. Tell me you know it."

She nodded.

"And it turns you on that I know it, that I know what your pussy's doing without even touching it and I'm not gonna stop until you come."

Hesitation, gasping, nod.

A knock sounded, making her jump out of her rapt focus on me.

Damn, and I'd just been warming up.

"Everything all right in there?" called a cheerful voice.

I took a deep breath. "We're fine, thanks," I called, smoothing out the frown in Charis's forehead. I pressed my finger to her lips until the footfalls went away.

"You're fine, you're okay," I murmured. "We have ten outfits in here at least. They're busy. Nobody's coming in here, but if they do use their key, I'll get Ryanna to bail us out of jail. She'll keep our secret."

"Asher Norrell, you are beyond inappropriate," she seethed.

"I know, right? It's unbelievable sometimes what I think I can get away with. Seriously," I laughed.

"Argh. I don't know what I was thinking. You know what, go away. Go. Just—no. Wait. No." Char was running her hands through her hair, brimming with frustration.

"You know you want it, your pussy wants it, needs it…" I cajoled.

"We can't have sex in here, devil man!"

I put my hand over her mouth. "Shh. Remember, whisper. No sex. This is a no-mess, no fuss deal. I won't even go below your waist. Give me a few minutes and you'll get your thrill without anyone the wiser."

"My thrill?"

"Your oxytocin explosion, your nipplegasm, pick a euphemism."

"Really? You won't…I mean…really? Can it be done?" Now I'd engaged her intellectual curiosity, too.

She was toast.

"Mm. Consider it a magic trick. It'll be your new favorite way to go shopping. You want to actually bet?"

"No! You are such a politician. If I weren't so…"

"Horny? Wet? Much of a sexual firecracker?"

"Tempted. You tempt me, Asher," she whispered.

"Sloane." I looked into her eyes and groaned softly, planting my legs farther apart and thrusting my hips against her ass.

Honestly? I didn't know if I really could make her come this way. Not every woman can. But I knew she wasn't leaving this room without an orgasm.

I rumbled, "You say that and now I have to see you come, no joke. Where were we…oh, yeah, right…there. Fuck, you're like velvet and satin on my fingers, girl. Some baby's gonna be in seventh heaven sucking this nipple one day. You like that idea? You gonna give our tit to a baby one day? You like that? That? Shh, shh, shh. I love those sounds, but you have to be quiet. This quiet," I whispered, breath-soft.

This is the kind of thing you do. It's like soothing a high-strung horse with soft sounds and sugar. I'll tell you how I know about soothing girls another time. (Hint: my cousin in Yakima has a ranch, and two of his hands are girls who like teaming up to teach the boys all the tricks.)

Charis pressed her thighs together and I swear the little room got steamy. I had to fist my hand to keep it from wandering down from that one breast to her pussy. I would lay my entire fortune on what I'd find there.

Instead, I kept up the litany of praise and verbal lovemaking, telling her in her ear what I wanted to do to her, how close I was to losing my cool, describing how my cock felt (using nicer words than insanely bloated of course—ya gotta make your dick sound mighty, not like you'll weep if it doesn't get help), and I saw her grow twitchy.

Suddenly her hand came up to press against her other breast, still in its bra cup. I took the hint and slid the fabric off that breast. Now both were bare and I proceeded to work both nipples at once, tugging, twisting, scraping, hurting her just enough to keep driving her higher, and Char bit her lip and stood there.

Because apparently I'd called it on the tit play. She loved this.

"Another time I'll kiss and suckle these beauties till you scream," I breathed into her ear. "If I put my mouth on you now, I'll mess up my jeans. So I'll just pet them until your pussy bursts into opera song right here in this store."

At my silliness, she snicker-giggled, but also twisted needily.

"Shh, you just think about your pussy. Think about my big cock shoving into you, Sloane. Think how it will feel."

Now she was writhing against me with her ass. In the mirror, I could see the dampness darkening her panties. I knew she wanted my fingers in there. Her left arm even moved, like she was about to get in on the action. I halted her with my hand. Listen, I'd kill to see that, but I'd promised she could trust me.

"God, woman, when I get you home I'm gonna bend you over the first piece of furniture I see and fill you with cock. Maybe you'll sit on my lap and we'll watch a movie with me all up inside you. What should we watch? How about a dude with his face between a babe's legs? I'm sure I can find something like that for us."

Her whimpers were getting louder. Holy shit, this was working too well. I spun her around and pulled her down with me to the bench. She landed straddling my lap, making me officially hate my jeans. I took her with my mouth, muffling her cries, and my hands took her breasts, and I felt her strain against me.

Her smell. Her wildness. She was gone.

I felt like such a moron to have missed the passion in her for so long. She was moving like we were having full intercourse, her hips seeking, trying to rub her pussy on my abs. This, this is what I love about women—when they need it and show it.

And Sloane.

When she gets going, she shows you fucking everything. How can you not make it your life mission to please a woman like this?

Unless you're a prick named Reggie.

I pulled away from her mouth, breathing harshly.

"I'm not gonna touch that wet pussy till we get home, but damn, girl. You want it? You want a big hard cock in you? You soaking those panties really good for me?"

With those crude words, I pinched both nipples and licked her lips, parted with those little panting breaths she took—and she suddenly stiffened.

A low rumble came from her throat.

Quickly I swallowed her cries with my mouth.

She was amazing. Her eyes went almost black as she held my gaze, her expression going blank. Her body shuddered against me. My cock was in physical pain while I held her. I wanted to cram fingers, cock, tongue inside her to take up that sweet little dry orgasm.

But I couldn't risk it, not here. If I managed to embarrass her today, I'd be screwed forevermore.

Instead I kissed her mouth over and over, my hands smoothing over her breasts while she went crazy in my arms, until she calmed.

Not so, me.

I was so fucking turned on I was quaking like the San Andreas.

"You just slaughtered me, coming that way," I growled, holding her cheeks so she couldn't miss seeing that I meant it.

"Oh, God. Oh, God, oh fuck, oh, Ash. I never, oh, geez."

"Shh. You did good, you did awesome." Too fucking awesome. My cock was in bad, bad shape. I couldn't stop shaking. Maybe this hadn't been one of my brightest ideas.

I said hoarsely, "Okay, that was awesome, but I've gotta get outta here or I'm gonna explode."

Despite my good intentions, I kissed her neck, moving down toward her chest.

Had to stop now.

But she was so fucking delicious.

She gave a little laugh. "Are you kidding? You can't leave here like that." She reached down to stroke the front of my jeans, where a thunderstorm was threatening.

I couldn't stop myself from arching into her hand. "Shit, you keep doing that and I really will get us locked up."

"Aw, we can't have that." Suddenly she was sliding down, off my lap and the bench and onto the floor. Kneeling. Smiling up at me.

Her desires and intentions clear.

And I almost came just reading her mind.