Asher

I was so damn close. So close to tasting those sweet fucking lips. I should have just taken it. She wouldn’t have been able to protest once my mouth was sealed over hers and the fire that was smoldering between us ignited. But it didn’t feel right to do that. That’s what I would have done with any other woman but not her. No, when I kiss her, and I will kiss her, it will be because she wants it.

I chased after her, but by the time I made it outside she was already gone. I tried to call her, but she didn’t answer so I sent a text instead.

Please, just let me know you’re okay.

It wasn’t until half an hour later she returned my text.

I’m okay. See you Monday.

I spent all day Sunday replaying Saturday night. Fuck, the woman had worked a number on me. I wasn’t lying when I said she’s the only one who’s ever made my heart beat that way. It was the God’s honest truth and I have no idea what the hell possessed me to confess that then and there but I had to. I had to let her know how she made me feel. Even if it was the most terrifying feeling in the world. I felt like I could trust her with it. That she wouldn’t use it against me in any way.

Her receptionist, Clara, called me Monday morning, letting me know what time to be here this afternoon. Now here I am, sitting in front of her while she pretends Saturday night never happened.

“Is that your list?” she asks, nodding to the piece of paper in my hand.

Reaching over, I give her the sheet of paper and she lays it on her lap, studying it.

She is sitting in her leather chair a few feet away and she looks sexy as hell. Even though she’s dressed like a fucking nun. The blouse she’s wearing is not nearly as revealing as the one she wore Saturday night. This one is buttoned all the way up, sans the one near her throat, offering me a peek at the hollow of skin there.

Skin I’m dying to taste.

She’s also wearing slacks instead of a skirt, which really irritates me. She should never cover up those sexy legs. Ever. I know she’s doing it for my benefit. Or perhaps it’s for her own. Maybe she thinks the more clothes she wears the more she can protect herself from me.

If that’s the case she’s in for a rude awakening.

“Reading, working out, and”—she looks up at me with a grin tugging her lips—“spending time with family?”

“That surprises you?”

“A little.”

“Why is that?”

“I thought I was the one who was supposed to be asking the questions here,” she says, setting aside the paper.

“Then by all means, Doc. Fire away.”

“Let’s talk about your family.”

Now it’s my turn to grin. “What do you want to know?”

“What’s the relationship like between your mother and father?”

I don’t have to contemplate my answer long. “They have a great relationship. They’ve had their ups and downs but they’ve been married over forty years so I guess they have it figured out. Raising seven kids wasn’t easy either, especially six boys, but they are a strong unit.”

“What’s your relationship like with your parents?”

“Great, for the most part. Besides them being constantly worried about me but I figure that’s normal for any parent.”

“And your siblings?”

“I get along with them most of the time. I’m kind of the outcast of the bunch.”

She tilts her head, folding her hands in her lap. “How so?”

“I wasn’t as outgoing as they were when we were younger. My brothers were pretty popular. They all played sports and excelled at any and everything. They had no problems talking to girls. Me...not so much.”

“And why is that?”

“I wasn’t athletic like my brothers and I was painfully shy. Girls never really paid attention to me at all. No one did.”

More writing.

I hate the writing.

It drives me mad.

My hand tugs at the back of my neck, trying to alleviate the tension there.

Her eyes return to mine as she tilts her head in curiosity. “What’s bothering you right now, Asher?”

“I hate it when you write. It makes me feel like I’m being dissected.”

“How so?”

“Like you’re quietly pulling back the layers of my skin. It makes me feel vulnerable and exposed.”

“And you don’t like to feel vulnerable?”

“Fuck no. I hate it,” I grit.

More goddamn writing.

Then I get her eyes once more.

“Sometimes we have to open ourselves up to others, it’s the only way to express what we are feeling inside so others might understand us,” she says calmly.

That sounds painful as fuck, not to mention scary. I hate talking about my feelings. I’m surprised I’m still sitting in this chair right now, but something about her makes me want to open up.

To get it all out.

Even if it does make me feel uncomfortable.

She sets her notebook aside and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Her gaze returns to mine. “Were you bullied in school?”

“Somewhat. My brothers always had my back and they never let anyone mess with me but they weren’t always around.”

Memories begin to flood my mind. Memories I’ve kept buried for a long time. From a time that shaped and changed my life forever.

“Did something happen to you back in high school?”

I debate whether to tell her but figure if I am ever going to get better I need to tell her everything, and so, I do...

“Ivy Lee happened.”

“Was she your girlfriend?”

“No. She was the most popular girl in school. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. She was always nice to me when her boyfriend wasn’t looking. She brought me snacks to school and slipped them in my pocket when she’d walk by me in the hall. The highlight of my entire week would be those goddamn snacks. I’d have to dart into the bathroom right after thanks to the boner she would elicit but fuck, that girl consumed my life. She was my every waking thought and starred in all of my dirtiest dreams. She rattled something inside of me. One day while we were in class, she fingered herself right next to me. It was the craziest shit.

“The teasing went on for about three months. And as each day passed, I grew more and more obsessed with her. Then one day in the hall, instead of shoving snacks into my pocket, she pulled me into a corner and handed me a piece of paper with her address on it and told me to meet her there after school. I walked around with a hard-on for the rest of the day. Then, after school, I walked four miles to her house. Told Mom and Dad I had a science club meeting. When I got there she was alone. Or so I thought. She pulled me into the living room and told me to strip. I was apprehensive but she kept reassuring me her parents wouldn’t be home for hours and she just wanted me to make love to her. And God knows that’s all I wanted, too.”

Nausea bubbles in my gut as my mind drifts back to that day, recounting every detail that has been branded into my memory forever.

Her hands fumbled for my buttons and before I knew it the sound of my zipper coming down filled the room. She kept kissing and touching me. It felt so fucking good I came right there in my boxers. I was embarrassed at first, but then she got down on her knees, pulled my boxers down to my ankles, and sucked every last bit of cum off my dick.

Then she stood up and kissed me. I was in love with her before I even walked through the door. So when her lips touched mine, I wasn’t sure what to name the emotion that began blistering my soul. But just as quickly as the love in my heart flared with new life, it was quickly doused with a bucket of ice-cold water when her boyfriend, David, stepped out from the kitchen, a sneer pulling at his thin lips. He always looked at me with pure disgust in his eyes. I never understood why until that night. I was so fucking scared, wondering what the hell he was going to do to me. But instead of kicking my ass, he leaned down and kissed Ivy long and deep.

Once he released her, he looked down at my growing dick. I might not like that he kissed her but my dick didn’t really give a shit.

“See, I told you he’d be into it.”

“In—into what?”

“The three of us...together. What do you say?”

“What?”

It fucked me all up. There I was, damn near naked in her parents’ living room, boxers down around my ankles, hard as a rock and ready to make love to the woman of my dreams, and this asshole wanted to share her. I wasn’t sure I was capable of that. I was so confused. I quickly pulled my boxers up and reached for my pants but he was bigger, stronger, and moved a hell of a lot faster. He pinned me to the couch, face first.

“Judging by how hard your dick is right now, I think you’d enjoy it.”

“No, I’m not gay, dude. Let me go!” I begged.

I’d never felt so weak in all my life. I made a silent vow then and there that when I made it out of this, I would take every measure possible to make sure I always had the upper hand. That I was never left vulnerable like this again.

His mouth found the shell of my ear. “You don’t have to be gay to want this, Asher. I love cock and pussy and I’m not fucking gay.”

I shook my head, squirming beneath his weight. “I don’t want this.”

He pulled me up then spun me around, fisting the collar of my shirt. His eyes flared with anger and lust. “Well, you better start convincing yourself that you do because it’s fucking happening.”

Panic clawed at my throat. I had no idea how I was going to get myself out of this.

“Everything that happens here stays here. No one has to know but the three of us. Besides, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll bury your ass.”

I nodded, swallowing down the bile rising in my throat. He released me and took a seat in the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I knew you were smart, Asher. Now, take off the rest of your clothes.”