Chapter Two
Sadie
“You better slow down there, Sadie.”
Ashton Levine, with his caring eyes—the kind of eyes that put puppy dogs to shame—attempts to commandeer my sixth…maybe seventh shot? Before his grabby hands slide it out of reach, I toss it back. My eyeballs water as it burns down my esophagus like the last five rounds of tequila did.
Wait. Is it five or eight? Shit, maybe Ash is right. I’ve lost count.
“She’s messed up over something,” Amanda says. Mandy is my best friend. She’s also Ashton’s twin sister. The two of them cage me in, forcing me into the middle of the cozy circular booth the three of us are sharing. I’m a little annoyed because they keep throwing furtive glances toward each other. Worried glances.
Probably because I called from Club Hoppin’ thirty minutes ago, bawling into the phone while camped out in a dirty stall in the women’s restroom. That’s where Amanda found me.
“Ya think?” Ashton arches an incredulous dark brow at his sister. They’re always at each other’s throats, despite the two of them being closer than most friends. Maybe it’s a sibling thing…or a twin thing. I wouldn’t know since I’m an only child.
I slam the empty shot glass onto the wood table and turn to Amanda, blinking several times until her porcelain complexion and sleek brown hair comes into focus. “Be a best friend and get me some fries?”
With a sigh, she squeezes my shoulder. “I’m on it.” As she rises to her feet, she shoots a warning look at Ashton. “Don’t let her out of your sight. She never gets this fucking drunk.”
“Got it covered,” he says, waving her off.
As soon as Amanda is on the way to the bar, her tall, voluptuous figure lost in the crowd of sweaty bodies grinding on each other, I face Ashton. I prop one hand on his chest to keep from swaying into him. Damn, he’s built underneath the black T-shirt he’s wearing. Black seems to be his signature color, and it suits him because he could be the poster boy for dark, dangerous, and handsome. Next thing I know, I’m running a palm down his ripped abs.
“Do you live in a gym or something?”
“Jesus.” He removes my hand from his chest, but instead of letting go, he twines our fingers together. Holding hands is nothing new for us. We’ve done it for years. He’s the brother I never had.
“You’re like a different person when you drink, Sawyer.”
Smarting over his chiding tone—and his use of my last name—I give him a drunken glower and try to pull away. His grip tightens.
“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asks, searching my face with his light blue eyes.
At times, he’s the annoying-as-fuck guy who gets under my skin with his questions and opinions on how I should live my life. Now that I think about it, I can see why he and Mandy fight a lot, because he’s even worse with her.
But one glance at the worry pinching his mouth soothes my ire. Ash has always cared about me, and for some strange reason, tonight his concern sends my heart into a fluttering dance. His fingers, still tangled with mine, cause the strangest, most exciting sensation ever, and a wave of heat breaks out on my skin. I haven’t felt this way since I was fourteen and had the biggest crush on him.
Must be the alcohol screwing with my body’s chemistry.
“You can talk to me,” he says, leaning closer with a mischievous quirk of his mouth. “I promise, I’ll keep my asshole tendencies to a minimum.”
His cologne infuses my senses. I’ve always loved the way he smells—like pure testosterone mixed with a hint of the woods after it rains.
“What if I said I wanted you to kiss me?” I have no filter tonight. For once in my life, I don’t give two fucks about what comes out of my mouth.
His eyes widen before lowering to my lips, and as the whirl of music and people and voices around us blasts my ears, neither of us move. Maybe my brain is on slow-mo tonight due to the booze, because it takes me a few seconds before I realize he isn’t going to press his lips against mine. I’m not surprised, but it’s still disappointing. He lets go of my hand.
Shit. Hot flames of humiliation lick my cheeks. Letting my hair curtain my face, I begin stacking the shot glasses on the table, my fingers trembling. “Sorry,” I mumble. “I’m buzzed.”
Ash slides his arm along the back of the booth behind me, turning his body until his knees graze mine. “It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you,” he says, inching back my hair and tucking it behind my ear.
“What is it, then?”
His fingers slide under my chin, turning my head toward him. He’s much closer than he was a few seconds ago, making my breath stall in my lungs. Drawing his lower lip between his teeth, he watches me as his fingers brush my jaw in a hypnotic way that ignites searing heat between my thighs. I clench them without thinking.
“You’re Amanda’s friend.”
“She wouldn’t care.” A lie, because I’m pretty sure she’d flip out.
“Okay, you’re my friend.”
“I don’t care, Ash.” Apparently, I’m full of lies tonight.
“I care.”
“Oh.” I’ve got no reply to that. Needing some distance, I draw away by a few inches.
“Sadie…” He springs into motion in the space of two seconds and thrusts his hands into my hair. He hovers at my ear, letting out shallow and uneven breaths. “You matter too much to me. You have to know that.”
“I do,” I whisper with a shaky sigh. “You matter to me too.”
Seconds tick past before he inches back, his facial hair grazing my cheek. His lips part as he meets my eyes. I hate that I have no idea what’s running through his head as he searches my face, his blue gaze darting between my eyes and mouth.
“Hell, Sawyer. You couldn’t handle me.” And just like that, he pulls away. “You’re too damn sweet.”
My spirit sinks to my toes. I’m the kind of sweet that doesn’t fall to her knees and suck a guy’s dick until he can’t think straight. The kind of sweet that guys cheat on because even though I want to do all sorts of dirty things, I’m too fucking inhibited to know how.
I’m almost twenty-three-fucking-years old—the same as Ash and Mandy, who are light-years ahead of me when it comes to sex. But me? I must be the last virgin from our graduating class. How pathetic is that?
Thanks to numerous shots of tequila, the familiar shackles of inhibition are nowhere to be found. I glance around the packed bar and spot Amanda entranced in conversation with a guy she’s been chasing for a couple of months. She works here three nights a week as a KJ, keeping Club Hoppin’ hopping with karaoke during the bar’s slower nights.
But tonight is Friday, and everyone is busy chasing someone, or dancing, or too drunk to notice Ashton and me in the corner booth. Even the barmaid has forgotten us.
Just do it flits through my mind. Before I allow myself the chance to chicken out, I disappear underneath the table and wedge my body between his legs.
His sharp intake of breath spurs me on. “What the fuck are you doing, Sadie?”
“Giving you a taste of how sweet I can be.” My fingers fumble with the button of his jeans for what seems like forever, giving him plenty of time to push me away.
But he doesn’t.
I lick my lips as I inch down his zipper. God, he’s free balling it. His long length springs free of the confines of his jeans. I had no idea he was hiding such a big cock behind that denim.
A hard cock. It curves upward, the soft mushroom tip practically staring me in the face.
“Sadie,” he says in a strangled tone, and I think I hear him groan as he sinks his fingers into my hair, holding me still. Holding me back. “You’re drunk, and I don’t mess with drunk chicks.”
“I’m not a chick.” I fight his grasp, and he loosens his fingers without much effort on my part. Because he wants my mouth wrapped around his cock. His ragged breathing is evidence enough. I tilt forward and allow him to comb back my thick hair with his fingers.
I flash back to what I witnessed earlier through the ajar door of my boyfriend’s—ex-boyfriend’s—office. Blondie hadn’t just used her mouth. She’d fisted the base of his cock as she bobbed her mouth on the tip.
Bringing trembling fingers to Ashton’s lap, I curl my hand around the thick root of his shaft and slide my lips over the head.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re so much more than just a chick.”
My heart is beating out of control as I fasten my mouth around him, rolling my tongue over the plump head, gliding my hand up and down velvet steel.
“Goddamn, Sadie.” His fingers tighten in my hair, pulling me closer, and he lets out another groan as I take in another inch.
My head is swimming, no doubt from the alcohol, but mostly from the fact that I have Ash’s dick in my mouth. This moment is too surreal. I’m not this brazen girl who does shit like this, especially in public.
But it feels good to be this girl now.
Feels damn good to shatter his sanity, steal his breath, and take what I want.
I have no fucking idea what I’m doing, but I must be doing something right, because his thigh is rigid under my free hand, and his groans drift to my ears in choked pleas, as if I’m wrenching them from his throat by force.
He tastes good, sweet with a hint of salt. He smells even better, with his light, woodsy scent infusing my nose as I work his length toward the back of my throat.
Ash lets out a low curse, his hips jerking, and I grab hold of his knee to keep from falling over as I impale myself on his erection. His tip hits my tonsils, and the instant my gag reflex kicks in, I begin to panic.
Damn it. I’m losing control. Letting fear seize me. This is the point when I shy away, but with Ashton…I don’t want to stop this time. I want to know what it’s like to make a man come undone.
I want to know what it’s like to reach past my limits, and I want to do it with Ashton. I’ve known him for most of my life, and I trust him without question. He won’t judge or get angry at my inexperience or lack of skill. He won’t cop an attitude and act butt hurt if I have to put on the brakes.
His hands guide the tempo of my mouth, the depth of his thrusts, and I gag again. Drawing air through my nose, I pull back the tiniest bit and count the rapid thumps of my heartbeat before sucking him deeper once more. His grasp on my hair tugs at my scalp, taking some of the control away from me. Ensuring I don’t pull away again.
God, he’s shaking, and something about the way his body is trembling excites me. Warmth floods the space between my legs.
Is that me moaning?
Holy shit, it is.
I’m losing myself to the task, enjoying it for the first time ever.
Someone’s talking above the music, and Ashton goes still. I’m so lost in him that I don’t realize Amanda is back at first. His voice sounds far away as he says something to her.
“Sadie’s ah…she’s…”
He pulls on my strands one last time before dropping his hands from my head, as if he doesn’t want me to stop. I veer back and let his erection slip from my mouth, and horrified at the thought of being caught and having to explain, I wrack my brain for an out. Inspiration strikes, and I fumble with my ear, unhooking an earring as I scoot ass-first out from underneath the table, wiping my lips on my arm as I go. I pray the lighting is dim enough to hide my blazing cheeks.
“I was just…just looking for my earring.” I hold up the tiny hoop in question before pushing it through my lobe again. But I can’t meet Amanda’s eyes, and I sure as hell can’t bring myself to face Ash.
Shit, I don’t have a choice. I face my friend and meet her eyes with a boldness I don’t feel. They’re the same sea-blue shade as her brother’s.
“Jesus, Sadie. You’re about to fall over.” Holding the requested fries in one hand, Amanda uses the other to give me a slight push back into the booth. She slides in next to me, and the telltale sound of Ashton zipping up his jeans makes me shiver.
The weight of his stare presses on me like a wet blanket. I’m immovable, and way too fucking hot. He’s mere inches from me, radiating heat.
Breathing with jagged desire.
Peeking below lowered lashes, I spy the death grip he has on the edge of the table. Seconds pass as I bring my eyes to his, plummeting into the sea of his gaze. I don’t think either of us are breathing. The world falls silent around us as our secret pings back and forth between us.
“What’s up with you two?” Amanda asks. “Are you guys fighting or something?”
I swivel my attention to Amanda, relieved to find that she doesn’t suspect the truth. Like usual, she assumes we’ve been arguing over something stupid—the way she and Ashton do all the time. In that moment, it doesn’t even cross her mind that I’m seeing Ash in a whole new light for the first time.
Far, far removed from brotherly affection.
My God. I had his cock in my mouth.
Maybe tomorrow, as I bury my hungover head beneath the covers to block out the searing reality of daylight, maybe then my insane actions will start to penetrate.
But tonight…everything is surreal. Ethereal even. With alcohol still buzzing through my veins, ignoring my mortification is doable. I’m trying to form a response when Ashton beats me to it.
“I cut her off.” He slides an arm along the back of the booth, skin brushing my nape. A tingle of awareness shoots straight to my core.
I tell myself it’s because of the alcohol.
I’m not breathless and jittery from the heat of Ashton’s caress on my neck.
“I think she’s had enough.” He reaches across the table and grabs a fry, rubbing his chest against my arm. He brings the golden fry to my lips. “Have you had enough, Sawyer?”
My heart adopts a crazy rhythm as I dip forward and take the offered fry, my lips grazing his warm fingers. As I chew, I meet his eyes again.
There’s a challenge in them. A smug glint to match the smirk taking hold of his lips. He’s enjoying this too much. With a gulp, I swallow the fry. But I’m thinking about swallowing something else. His focus wanders to my lips, and I know what he’s thinking. He knows that I know what he’s thinking.
My mouth. His cock. Unfinished business.
Fear barrels through my bravado. Real fear. Not the kind one experiences when faced with a what-if or an unknown, but the kind of soul-numbing terror that blasts through your blood when you realize how badly you fucked up. When you realize that fuck-up could be the beginning of the end of something too important to lose.
A lifelong friend…gone in the tatters of the status quo.
This is why I snuffed out any feelings beyond friendship when I hit my senior year of high school. Ashton and Amanda are like family, my sanctuary against my own disapproving flesh and blood. I’ve witnessed how ugly his breakups get with his various girlfriends over the years, have seen his inability to commit to one girl for longer than a few weeks. Nausea rises, thick in my throat.
A few weeks of blissful insanity with him isn’t worth breaking a lifelong bond.
“I…I think I’m gonna get sick.” I nudge Amanda out of the booth before pushing past her to make a beeline for the restroom, wrestling my way through the throng of people all oblivious to the turmoil rolling in my belly. Maybe if I hide in the ladies’ room long enough, Ashton will forget I exist.