Asher

Briar slumps back to the deck, completely boneless, as I hoist myself up and over the edge. I struggle to pull my soaked jeans off, opting to leave my boxers on for now. Through it all, she doesn’t make any move to get up.

Briar’s outstretched arms lie limp at her sides, her bare tits heave, and goose bumps prickle her skin. Her eyes are closed, wet lashes hitting the tops of her cheeks, and her plump lips are parted. My dick jerks, already wanting round two.

Fuck, I need to get it together. This girl is fucking with my head. I don’t know how to feel about her little story about my dad. My initial reaction was to go find a wall to smash my fist through. Not only did she have me sent away and stripped me out of my chance at college, but then she spent time with the person she was so concerned about? John conveniently left that part out. Briar wants to see the good in everyone. That’s just who she is. Was. Fuck, I don’t know anymore. Who knows what lies John filled her pretty little head with, and she probably fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. Not even that could keep me from wanting her, though.

I don’t know why I let Dash and Adrian talk me into going to the East Side tonight. Clubs aren’t my scene, and the whole time all I could picture was Briar’s face when she saw Whitley and me walking out of the bathroom together. Then, I got mad at myself for giving a shit how she felt. Nothing happened—of fucking course, nothing happened because I wouldn’t even touch Whitley with someone else’s dick—but even if I wanted to explain, Dash might wonder why I’m defending myself to his little sister.

The second Whitley showed up, sniffling, bouncing from foot to foot, and talking a mile a minute, I knew she was coked-up. I know because I used to do it with her. So, when she decided to go powder her nose—literally—I followed her and tore her a new asshole for doing that shit here. I honestly don’t know why any of us put up with her anymore. She used to be cool, once upon a time, and like the horny, asshole teenagers that we were, we took advantage of the fact that she threw herself at us. But then, she got into drugs, and while I’m guilty of partaking, it was never a problem for me. Whitley definitely has a problem, and I think we all just feel stuck with her, and tolerate her, like a drunk uncle during the holidays.

Whatever the fuck Briar and I are doing is pointless. There are too many obstacles standing in the way for this to end well. Allowing Briar to believe that I invited her, yet again, or that we hooked up, was my way of ending shit between us. Yet, here I am, scooping her listless body into my arms and carrying her through the house and back to her room right after finding out that her betrayal goes even deeper than I thought. Because I can’t fucking quit her.

I went back to River’s Edge for two weeks to do just that. I took on another job and caught up with Dare and our other friends. I just needed some distance, to recalibrate without Briar inadvertently seducing me at every turn. But the time away has done nothing to dull the attraction. Three years didn’t do it, so it was stupid to think two weeks would suffice.

“What are you doing?” she asks, covering herself with one arm. The other curls around the back of my neck.

“Taking you to bed,” I say, kicking her bedroom door open.

“Are you staying with me?”

I falter, not expecting the question, before looking down at her big blue eyes.

“Do you want me to?”

Briar nods wordlessly, and I lay her down before taking off my boxers. She arches a brow.

“I’m not sleeping in wet clothes,” I explain, and she bites her lip, looking directly at my cock.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I warn.

“Or what?”

“Or else I’ll fuck you again, and this time, I won’t hold back.”

“You’ve been holding out on me?” she asks, a playful lilt to her voice. I groan and climb into bed next to her.

“Don’t tempt me. Go to sleep.”

“Yes, sir,” she mumbles, nuzzling her way under my arm and resting her head on my chest.

“Comfy?” I ask, sarcasm lacing my tone.

“Mhm.”

We’re both silent, her naked body against mine, as I trace her soft skin from her ribs to the curve in her hip. I’m drifting off when I hear her whisper, “I’ve missed you.”

You can’t miss something you never had, but I don’t correct her, because I feel it, too. Being with Briar like this feels like what I’ve been missing my entire life.

It’s a shame it won’t last.

* * *

I wake up, my mouth drier than Gandhi’s flip-flop, to curious, delicate fingers, tentatively skimming the sensitive underside of my cock. Briar traces my frenum piercings, and I groan at the sensation, my hips jerking forward of their own volition. Her eyes snap up to mine.

I got these piercings on a drunken dare before I was even old enough. Adrian’s doing, of course. Instead of simply accepting the challenge, I had to show off by getting two. I figured I could remove them, but it turns out they make sex a lot more fun. And right now, as Briar plays with me like I’m her new favorite toy, I’m definitely not regretting it.

“Good morning,” she says, part seductress, part innocent, before she licks the length of my dick. I shudder when her tongue brushes over my barbells, bringing my hands to rest behind my head.

“I’d say so.” My hips flex. Briar flicks underneath the tip with her tongue a couple of times before closing her mouth around me.

“Wrap your hand around it,” I say. She does as instructed, her tiny fist working my shaft while her mouth works my head.

“Yeah. Fuck yeah, like that. Squeeze harder.”

She does.

“Look at me. Let me see those pretty blues while your perfect lips are wrapped around my cock.”

I’m already close to coming, but when her eyes meet mine, I’m ready to flip her over and bury myself inside her. I start to do just that, but then I hear a voice that stops us both dead in our tracks.

“Hello? Where are my children, and what has happened to my house?”

“Oh my God,” Briar whispers, panic infused in her voice. “What is my mom doing here? You have to go!”

“No shit,” I say, already feeling around on the floor next to the bed for my boxers. Fuck. We left our clothes by the pool. And a blunt. And alcohol and my semen, but who’s counting? Briar grabs a white dress out of her drawer that looks like something the old Briar would wear and carelessly pulls it over her head before smoothing out her just-fucked hair.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she whispers, pulling her underwear up her legs. “I’ll see you later.”

Knowing we don’t have time for pleasantries, I give her a nod before I crawl through the window and jump down, ready to hit the back entrance for my keys and clothes. Before I can take a single step, Briar jerks me back by my shoulder, catching me off guard. She smashes her lips to mine, her hands gripping my hair, and kisses the shit out of me. She sucks on my tongue, and when I nip at her bottom lip, she moans into my mouth. She pulls back slightly, lips puffy, cheeks flushed, and eyes wild, ending the kiss just as abruptly as it began.

“Come see me tonight?” she asks, nervously sucking on her lip. Only our foreheads touch, and my hands are braced on either side of the window frame. Those four insignificant words trip me up. I’ve never had anyone waiting for me, wanting to see me, not for anything other than a quick fuck, at least. I take that back. I’ve never wanted anyone waiting on me. I’ve had the occasional stage-five clinger, and with anyone else, it always felt like the walls were closing in on me. But, when Briar does it, I feel like maybe I have a place in this world.

My initial thought is to say no. I tell myself that I shouldn’t let her get attached. But who the fuck am I kidding? We’re beyond attached. She’s in my head, my fucking veins, and in whatever’s left of my heart, whether either one of us likes it or not.

“I’ll be here.”