CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX #2
After a while, Asher turned off the highway. We drove down a narrow country road flanked by century-old pines, then veered onto a sandy track. The tires sank into something soft; Asher kept his eyes fixed ahead. The headlights lit patches of dune grass.
I pressed my forehead to the glass to make out the shapes, and a soft chuckle came from the driver’s seat. “I hope you like it.” He rolled his window down. The wind whipped, scattering sand and filling the car with salty air that smelled of ocean and freedom.
“The beach?” I couldn’t hide the excitement in my voice. We got so few chances to be together without worrying about being seen. This felt like a reward for surviving the distance and loneliness.
“The beach.” Asher wrapped his hand around mine as the car stopped. “Come on, peque. Unless you don’t want to see.”
I fumbled free of my seatbelt. “Are you kidding me?”
He got out first and opened the door. The salty wind lashed at me, lifting my skirt; I gripped the hem. Asher raised a brow and smirked. “Can’t say I hate your school uniform, peque.”
I jabbed his ribs. “Such a guy.”
He looped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “Let’s walk.”
We rounded the car and walked toward the dark ocean, stopping a few inches from the tide. Waves lapped the shore; moonlight made a glistening path across the inky water.
“Reminds me of Spain,” Asher said, brushing his lips against my temple. “I want to take you there. You’d love it.”
I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. “I know I would. We can go once I’m done with school.” I’d imagined us traveling together so many times—impossible now, but maybe college would change that.
A blast of cool air raised goosebumps on my bare arms. “Wait.” Asher jogged back to the car, unlocked the trunk, and rummaged for a few seconds.
He returned with one of his racing jackets, the leather still warm with him. I slid my arms into it and twirled; Asher chuckled under his breath. “Can I keep it?”
“I was hoping you would. It looks better on you.”
We walked along the beach, fingers laced. Every few steps he pressed a quick kiss to my lips or cheek; I soaked it in, forbidding myself to think about Willowbrook and the few hours before I had to return.
Good things never lasted—yet it felt worth every second.
“Hypothetically speaking,” Asher said, “if I picked you up at school in two weeks and took you away for a weekend, would they have an issue?”
A weekend together—sleeping in the same bed? Heat moved through me despite the breeze. “Not if you say you’re my brother.”
He groaned. “Of course. Still—anything to spend two days with you.”
“They’re so strict,” I said. “After what happened to Bree, I won’t be surprised if they tighten security.”
Concern clouded his face. “Will you get in trouble for sneaking out tonight?”
I shrugged. “If I do, it doesn’t matter. Spending time with you is worth the punishment.”
He sighed, stopped walking, and wrapped me in his arms. “I’m sorry, peque.”
“For what?”
“For making things harder for you.”
“Stop it.” I cupped his cold cheek. “Things wouldn’t be this hard if my father hadn’t sent me away. I hope the school is as good as Alba says. Otherwise it’ll all be for nothing.”
Asher kissed the tip of my nose. “I admire you, you know?”
I admired his drive and maturity. What could he possibly find admirable in me?
He curled his palm around my jaw. “No. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not lying. I admire you for not breaking. Your father took away everything you love, and it makes me so fucking mad.”
“Not everything. He didn’t take you.”
“Joder.” Asher crushed me to his chest. “How the fuck am I supposed to let you go in a few hours? You say things like that, and I want to keep you with me forever.”
I pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Let’s make the most of those hours, then.”
As he led me back to the car, the energy between us shifted—more deliberate, more urgent. Every step, every brush of his thumb along the back of my hand, every hungry look felt magnified.
We slid into the backseat and his hands were in my hair, his mouth on mine. I tugged his leather jacket off his shoulders, forcing him to break the kiss for a second; he helped me take it all the way off and tossed it onto the driver’s seat.
“Ven aquí,” he whispered, sitting straighter and pulling me into his lap. The rough denim of his jeans brushed my bare inner thighs. He eased my shirt up as if waiting for me to say stop. I didn’t. We’d been dancing around this—too many half-touches, too many stopped kisses.
My white shirt dropped to the floor. Asher’s palms skimmed over me as if memorizing every curve. He went hard beneath me; when I shifted, a pained hiss escaped him. “Wait, peque.”
“Why?” I asked, voice tight.
He kissed my neck slow and deliberate, tasting and nipping in a rhythm that made my skin sing. His hand cupped my breast; his thumb rolled over my nipple. “Because I asked.”
His mouth trailed down my throat. He seized the strap of my bra between his teeth and slid it off my shoulder, then reached behind me to free the clasp.
“Preciosa,” he whispered, closing his lips around my nipple.
Heat pooled between my legs and my panties dampened as he sucked, one hand keeping my other breast busy.
I braced on his shoulders; his breaths came fast. “Hold on. I want to feel you.”
He ripped off his T-shirt and dropped it on mine. I traced the planes of his chest with my fingertips, down to the sculpted ridges of his stomach. A dark bruise marked his ribs on the right; worry cut through the heat. “Ash? What is that?”
“Nothing.” His hands skimmed my back. “I fell while training.”
I leaned down and pressed my lips to the bruise. His answering moan set me alight—if one kiss did that, the idea of exploring the rest of him made my pulse race.
He slipped his hands under my armpits and hauled me up. His mouth demanded mine with a hot, bruising kiss; one hand tangled in my hair while the other cupped my face. “Can’t get enough,” he rasped. “I want to kiss all of you. Can I?”
The promise he’d made a week ago surfaced—next time, my mouth. I nodded, eager and shaky. He slid the pad of his thumb over my lower lip. “Lie back.”
The cool seat pressed my spine, and I shivered.
He slid his hand under my skirt and pulled my panties down, baring me to him.
Once more his mouth closed around my nipple while his palm roamed the soft inside of my thigh.
“Soaked for me already?” he whispered, dipping his fingertips between my legs. “Now I know you missed me.”
“You’re so…” I started.
He found my bundle of nerves with his thumb and a tremor rolled through me—nothing I did alone ever felt like this. “I’m what, mi amor?” he murmured, gently biting my breast.
“Cocky,” I managed, and laughed against his mouth as another wave of pleasure rolled through me.
His wet lips trailed down my body, leaving a string of open-mouthed kisses until he reached my belly button.
He spread my legs with his palms, slid to the floor, and knelt by the seat.
His dark eyes met mine for a second; whatever he saw there seemed to spur him on.
He buried his face between my legs and drew his tongue in one long, greedy stroke that tore a moan from my throat.
My breaths sped, but his rhythm slowed. He licked so deliberately I curled my hands into fists and rocked my hips, begging him to move faster.
“Cocky?” His breath brushed my hypersensitive skin and I shivered. “It’s not like I can’t feel what I do to you.”
Another swipe, and I squeezed my eyes shut—craving more and hating the dull pressure in my lower belly at the same time. He sucked my clit into his mouth. When he slipped a finger inside me, I clamped around it, and my body pulsed.
“More, mi nina?” Asher asked, teasing the finger in and out.
All I managed was a nod. He found a spot inside me that made my knees tremble.
“I love how you taste,” he said, speeding up, the motion of his hand matching the pace of his mouth.
“Ash.” I gripped his hair.
My muscles coiled. My sex tightened and my clit throbbed. Another press of his lips sent ripples through me, building until pleasure detonated with his kisses and his name shattered from my lips.
Asher pressed one last kiss to me, then took his time trailing kisses up my inner thighs and stomach as if savoring a ritual. “?Estás bien?” he asked softly. Are you okay?
“Yeah. I just need a moment.”
“Come here.” He sat back; I climbed into his lap and curled my arms around his neck. My bare chest rested against his; he rubbed my back until the tremors eased.
I wanted to tell him everything, but words tumbled and failed. “You’re . . .” I started.
He threaded his fingers through my hair. “Cocky?”
“Yes, but at least you can back it up.” Also amazing. Kind. Caring.
He pressed his forehead to mine and laughed softly. “Gracias.”
“De nada.” I kissed him, tasting myself on his lips. “I want to touch you. Or kiss you.”
“You don’t have to because I did,” he said.
“I know.” I nipped his bottom lip. “Wait, do you guys have a no-sex-before-racing rule?”
He ran his nose along my cheek. “Not that I know of. That rule would suck.”
That would suck? I froze for a second—long enough for Asher to notice.
“God.” He rained kisses across my face. “There’s only you, silly.
There’s only ever been you since I moved here.
I’m too busy missing you and loving you to look at anyone else.
I was talking about the future—when we can finally live together. Okay?”
“I’m sorry.” I rested my forehead against his shoulder. “I don’t know why I thought otherwise.”
“Because we’re apart.” He cupped my cheek, searching my eyes for any left doubt. “Now we can text, and I’ll call you every night. I’ll never give you reasons to doubt me, peque. If you’re worried, talk to me. Actually, you know what?”
“What?”
“Mark me.”
I waited for a joke. He wasn’t smiling.
“You want me to mark you?”
He nodded. “I do. My neck, or wherever.”
“Only if you do the same.”
He traced my lips with his index finger. “What if your father sees? He’ll ask questions.”
“I’ll blame one of the girls.” The chances of my father visiting were slim—he’d use the racing season as an excuse for not coming, or not show at all.
Asher chuckled and buried his face in my neck. “You first, salvaje.”
I shoved him playfully. “Savage? Look who’s talking.”
He kissed the place where my neck met my shoulder. “I’m waiting.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “Fine.”
Asher tipped his head back. I kissed the hollow of his neck and sucked gently, long enough to brand him. His fingers dug into my waist, and when I pulled away, a red bloom marked his skin.
I brushed it with my fingertips. “Done.”
He offered a playful smirk. “You know, I didn’t expect that would turn me on so much. I might ask for more.”
Before he could, I covered his mouth with mine.