CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Kaia
Islid the bookmark back into place and shut the diary. Asher would be here any minute to pick me up for the weekend, and I fought to keep my excitement in check. Only Alba knew who he really was; Teagan thought I was going away with my stepbrother.
“I’ve got something that’ll look beautiful with your top,” Alba said, eyes lifting from the book on her bed. She rummaged through her makeup bag on the nightstand and handed me a pink glittery lip gloss. “It’s new. Keep it.”
I shoved the diary into the drawer and took it. “Thanks.”
After a few coats in front of the full-length mirror on the closet door, I gathered my hair into a sleek ponytail and spritzed myself with watermelon body spray. Asher loved that scent. I twirled in the mirror and smiled.
“So much effort for a brother,” Teagan said.
“Step,” Alba corrected, snapping her book shut. “Maybe she’s doing it for herself—to like how she looks.”
“Not even step,” I said. “Our parents aren’t married.” The conversation annoyed me. I wasn’t his sister at all, but I had to lie so Sarah wouldn’t tell my father a nonrelative was picking me up.
“Sorry—you’re right.” Alba toyed with a pink bookmark. “But the point stands. You can want to look pretty for yourself, too.”
Teagan twirled a blond lock around her finger. “How old is he again?”
“Twenty-one. Why?”
She yawned into her fist and set aside her math textbook. “I can’t imagine what I’d talk about with a guy that age.”
“Equations.” I spread more gloss. “Who doesn’t love those?”
I grabbed my backpack. “Well, I’ll be going. Have fun with your dad tomorrow, Alba.”
She gave a thumbs up and mouthed Be safe. Teagan waved half-heartedly as I slipped out.
Sarah was on the phone as I passed her office; she didn’t object to me leaving with my so-called brother. Outside, the sun warmed the yard. I shaded my eyes and looked toward the gates—Asher’s bike by them made my heart speed up. Gravel crunched under my sneakers as I hurried.
A few steps, and he wrapped me in a tight hug, one palm smoothing my back. “You look beautiful,” he whispered in my ear. “Ready to go?”
“I am.” I took him in—black riding gear, everything—and waited while he swung up on the bike. I climbed on behind him. As usual, he handed me a helmet. I strapped it under my chin and couldn’t stop the grin that split my face.
My body buzzed with anticipation. A weekend with him, and no need to hide—what could be better?
***
Two hours later we pulled into the driveway of a stunning wooden cabin tucked into trees. Floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the green canopy, and the house seemed to belong to the landscape.
“This place is amazing,” I said as Asher lugged our bags, “but the plaque says Delano Hotels. This looks like a rental.”
He kissed my cheek. “It’s a bit of both—more exclusive. No people around. I wanted you all to myself for once.”
I traced his jaw with my fingertips. “It must be crazy expensive.”
“And you’re worth it.” He planted a soft kiss on my forehead. “I saw the photos on their site and fell in love. Want to see the rest?”
I nodded and gripped his hand. We walked up the driveway; he unlocked the door and let me step inside first.
Daylight poured through the wide windows. A couch faced the fireplace. If it rained, I could already imagine us curled under a blanket, watching the flames. In the bedroom a huge bed, dressed in crisp white linen, faced sliding glass doors that opened on the trees.
“Like it?” Asher murmured, hugging me from behind. I folded against his hard chest as he kissed the hollow of my throat so slowly my knees went weak.
“Love it,” I whispered.
He bit my shoulder gently. “We’ll do whatever you want. If there’s something you’re not ready for, that’s fine too. No rush.”
I turned in his arms. “Ash.”
He threaded his fingers through the end of my ponytail. “Your first time matters. I want to be sure you’re ready.”
I edged forward until my chest molded against his. “I am. I think we’ve waited long enough.”
Asher pressed his forehead to mine; his breath came fast. “Worth it,” he said.
My hand slid to the hem of his shirt. “Then let’s not wait.” I pushed it up over his abs; he yanked it the rest of the way off. I kicked off my shoes and socks; he did the same. His hands roamed my back, as if each touch rewarded him.
When he cupped my breast in a rough palm, I stifled a moan and leaned into him.
“I love how you feel,” he murmured against my neck, then licked a path to my shoulder.
I gripped his forearms; he took that as permission to lead me to the bed.
I stepped backward until the backs of my knees hit the mattress.
He eased me down onto a bed so soft it held me like a cloud.
Asher hovered over me, weight on one forearm, the other sliding under my top.
“I want your skin on mine—naked,” he said.
“I want to kiss and touch you until you beg me to take you, peque.” He rubbed my nipple through lace; a hot jolt arced to my center.
“I want your first time with me to be so good you’ll beg for a second. ”
I arched into his hand. “Undress me, then.”
He unbuttoned my jeans, fingers slipping beneath denim to skim my already soaked panties. “With how wet you are, I shouldn’t make you wait.”
I lifted my hips; he peeled off my jeans and underwear. Cool air from the open French doors brushed my skin, making me shiver. He kissed me briefly, rose, and closed them.
“It’s raining,” he said when he returned. “Can’t complain. Perfect excuse to stay in bed.” He leaned down, and I cupped him through his pants; his hardness pressed into my palm. He exhaled, then covered my hand with his. “Wait, mi nina.”
“Okay.” I grazed his stomach with my nails. “But I want to see you.”
He shrugged out of the rest of his clothes. In the car it had been too dark to see him properly; in daylight he looked even more beautiful—big, too.
“It’ll fit,” Asher murmured, as if reading my mind. “I’ll make sure you’re ready first.”
He lay over me, hooked an arm around my waist, and rolled us.
“Move up a bit,” he said, voice soft and sure. He lifted my top and pulled it over my head, exposing the bra he’d liked in the pictures.
“The photo didn’t do it justice,” he breathed.
He wrapped his lips around my breast, sucking gently.
My clit pulsed with every pull; when he unclasped my bra and took my bare nipple into his mouth, a relieved moan slipped out.
He sat up with me still straddling him, my sex rubbing against his length.
“We’ll do it like this later,” he said. “Once you’re used to me.”
I tightened my legs around him and kissed him.
He opened for me with a low moan, his tongue meeting mine.
Rain battered the windows; the soft drum of the storm mixed with our sounds.
Asher mapped my curves with his hands, then slid his fingers down to my clit and began to rub me while his mouth still ravished mine. His cock throbbed beneath me.
When his touches grew more insistent, I lifted myself, and he slipped a finger inside—then another. I squeezed my eyes shut, fisted his hair, my lips brushing his.
“You’re soaked,” he whispered, working his fingers in a steady rhythm. “I want you to come like this first.”
His mouth returned to my breast, trapping my nipple between his lips. Pressure built low and hot. I rocked my hips against his hand, seeking relief. He spread my wetness over my clit with his thumb and picked up the pace.
“Ash.” I gasped, pleasure so close I could taste it. He moved to my other breast, watching me like he wanted to memorize how I unraveled.
Ripples of release rolled through me. I tightened around his fingers as an orgasm ripped me open.
He withdrew slowly and laid me back, brown eyes soft as he cradled my face. “I want to be inside you.”
I nodded and ran my hand over the muscles of his back. Asher leaned down, grabbed a condom from his pants on the floor, and slid it on. I took his hand and pulled him toward me; he settled between his forearms so his weight didn’t crush me.
“Stop me if it’s too uncomfortable, okay?” he said.
His concern made me smile. “Don’t worry. It won’t be.”
“I hope so.” He nuzzled my cheek, kissed below my ear, and eased my legs apart. The tip of him nudged my entrance and I froze, fingers digging into his back.
“You’re precious to me,” he murmured. “Perfect.”
He kissed me and pushed in just a hair. Dull pressure swelled; I brushed the tip of his tongue with mine to steady myself. He paused.
“Move, peque,” I urged, lifting my hips. Asher eased forward, and pain bit sharp, then softened.
“Fuck,” he breathed against my neck, then kissed and sucked the skin gently. “I’m in. How does it feel?”
The ache melted into fullness. “I love it,” I said. “You can move.”
He shook his head, fingers tangling in my hair spread on the pillow. “Not yet. I want you to come with me.”
He stroked the still-sensitive nub, kissed my breasts until need flared, and I moved my hips with him lodged inside.
“Wrap your legs around me,” Asher said. His body trembled under my hands. I tightened my thighs around his hips and rocked slowly. He groaned into my neck, burying his face in the crook. “You feel so fucking good.”
“So do you.”
He pulled almost all the way out, then drove in slow and steady, finding a rhythm that hit a spot deep and electric.
My body clenched and released with him—each thrust pulsing heat through my core.
Whatever sharpness had come at the start dissolved, giving way to a swell of pleasure that kept building with every steady stroke.
“Faster, Ash,” I begged, dropping my hand to his backside.
I wanted him to lose it, and I wanted to get there with him.
He pinched my clit, bit my nipple, then increased the speed of his thrusts until the air left my lungs.
I focused on the pleasure building between my legs.
With every glide he came closer until I was sure one more movement would set me off.
He slammed into me, and stars flickered behind my eyelids as a warm buzz spread through my core and my muscles clenched around him.
Asher shuddered and moaned, his sweat-soaked body pressing mine into the mattress.
We lay there, catching our breath. Rain pounded the windowpane and thunder rumbled in the distance, but I’d never been calmer—never felt so weightless and free.
Asher pressed his lips to my forehead. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “More than okay. You?”
“So fucking happy it scares me.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Let me check the damage.”
He pulled out slowly and ran his fingers between my legs. “There’s a bit of blood. Are you all right?”
“Yes.” I sat up slowly, watching him slide the condom off. “I’m glad I did it with you.”
Asher smiled. “Me too. Come here.”
I crawled to him; he pulled me into his arms, adjusted my legs around his waist, and stood holding me. “Let’s bathe.”
The bathroom had a huge window facing the forest and a clawfoot tub big enough for two.
Asher set me down on a fluffy rug. Steam rose as water filled the tub; he uncorked a bottle of bath foam and poured a stream under the running water.
When it was ready, he picked me up and eased me into the bath, then sat behind me so my back rested against his chest.
For a few quiet minutes he washed me, running his palm over my shoulders, breasts, and stomach, lingering between my legs.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, pressing his lips to my shoulder.
I angled my face to see him. “No. It stings a little.”
Asher wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me tighter. “Nice, right? Being together like this.”
“I hate that it’ll end soon.”
He played with my wet hair, separating the strands. “I asked Ale to help me find an apartment.”
“You want to move out?”
He nodded. “I need to get the hell away from Russell. I want a place where you can stay—or where we can live together once you’re in college.”
My heart sped. He’d never said that out loud. I didn’t hate the idea, but I wanted to afford my own place one day.
“If you want, of course,” he added. “I also asked him to look for another team.”
Another team? Panic pinched my chest so hard I could barely breathe. I’d been afraid of losing him before; this felt worse. “So you’re leaving?”
“No.” Asher ran the back of his hand over my cheek. “I said I’d only accept an offer if the team was local.”
“You’re holding back because of me.” Saying it made the revelation press against my ribs. Asking him to give up his dream felt unfair—what if he resented me later? I was just a girl he’d fallen for. Racing was everything to him; it tied him to his dad.
Asher gripped my chin between thumb and forefinger and turned my face toward his.
“I’m not holding back. I could move back to Spain, but Spain doesn’t have the person who makes me completely, insanely happy.
I love you. I’m too selfish to put an ocean between us and not be able to kiss you whenever I want. ”
“I love you too,” I whispered, sinking deeper into his arms. Asher never said things he didn’t mean. Still, part of me hated that he might reject something better for his career. He called himself selfish, and I was selfish too—I couldn’t imagine life without him.
I’d been so much happier with him. For the first time I had things to look forward to, and Mom’s absence felt less sharp because Asher loved me and cared for me.
“Trust me,” Asher said. “Spain’s an option, but it doesn’t have to be racing or you, peque. I can have both.”
I kissed him, letting the pressure ease for a moment, though a small fear lingered at the back of my mind. He wanted racing and me—but what if he couldn’t have both?