Chapter 16
Asher
Eva’s mouth is on mine before I can find the light switch inside my house, her hands fisted in my shirt, pulling me closer.
I stumble over the threshold, the walking boot making me clumsy, but she doesn’t let go.
Just steadies me with her body and keeps kissing me as if she’s been waiting her whole life for this.
Maybe we both have.
“Bedroom,” I manage between kisses.
“Where?”
“Down the hall. Left.”
She pulls back just enough to look at me, her lips swollen, her eyes dark. “Can you make it that far?”
“I can make it anywhere if you’re the destination.”
She laughs—bright and surprised—and the sound does something to my crotch.
“That was cheesy,” she says.
“I know. I’m nervous.”
“You’re nervous?” She takes my hand and starts walking backward down the hall, leading me. “I’m the one who hasn’t done this in an embarrassingly long time.”
“Then we’re both out of practice.” I stop her at the bedroom door, cupping her face in my hands. “We can slow down. If you want. We don’t have to—”
“Asher.” She covers my hands with hers. “I want this. I want you. I’ve wanted you since you growled at me in the woods like a feral yeti and I realized I was into it.”
“You were into the growling?”
“And the hair.”
I kiss her again, softer this time, trying to pour everything I’m feeling into it. The want, yes, but also the gratitude. The disbelief that she’s here, in my house, choosing me.
We make it through the bedroom door. The room is dark except for the moonlight coming through the window, silvering everything in pale blue. I reach for the lamp, but Eva stops me.
“Leave it. I want to see you in the moonlight.”
“That’s cheesy, too.”
“We’re even then.” She steps back and pulls her top over her head in one smooth motion. She’s wearing a simple bra, nothing fancy, and she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. So much better than my fantasy of what she might look like. “Your turn,” she says.
I unbutton my shirt with fingers that aren’t quite steady. She watches, her gaze tracking every inch of revealed skin, and I’ve never felt more exposed. When I shrug the shirt off, she moves closer and runs her hands up my chest, over my shoulders, down my arms—learning me.
“You’re shaking,” she whispers.
“I told you. Nervous.”
“Me too.” She takes my hand and presses it to her chest, right over her heart. It’s racing. “See?”
I pull her in and kiss her again. We find each other in the dark, hands and mouths exploring, the tension that’s been building for weeks breaking like a fever.
We make it to the bed. She falls back onto the mattress, and I follow, bracing myself on my forearms so I don’t crush her. The boot makes everything awkward; I can’t move the way I want to, can’t position myself without thinking about it.
“This thing,” I mutter, gesturing at my foot. “It’s going to be a problem.”
Eva props herself up on her elbows. “Can you take it off?”
“I’m supposed to wear it except when showering.”
“Asher. We’re about to have sex. That’s a shower of endorphins, right?”
I groan. “Tell that to my leg bones.” But I do need to take it off to remove my pants, so I sit up and start unfastening the boot, which is significantly less sexy than I’d like. Eva watches me struggle with the Velcro straps, and I can see her trying not to laugh.
“Don’t,” I warn.
“I’m not saying anything.”
“You’re thinking I look ridiculous.”
“I’m thinking you look very handsome and hairy.” She traces a finger along my chest, and I cannot concentrate. Finally, the boot comes off, and I shuck my jeans with relief. I’m so hard I was worried I’d have zipper marks along my dick.
My ankle looks pale and slightly withered from weeks of disuse, which is also not sexy. I reach for the boot again, suddenly aware this is a lot of logistics for what’s supposed to be a passionate moment.
Eva puts her hand on my arm. “Hey. Let me.”
She glides a palm across my hip, along my thigh, and down my leg, careful around my bad ankle.
Then she picks up the boot, straightening the straps before setting it aside.
I watch, riveted in the moonlight, as she slides out of her leggings.
Then she takes my foot gently in her hands and starts fastening the boot back on.
It shouldn’t be hot. It’s medical equipment. It’s the opposite of hot.
But the way she’s touching me—carefully, tenderly, like I’m something precious—makes my bones wobble.
When the boot is secure, she presses a kiss to my shin, just above the top of it. Then another kiss, higher. Another. She works her way up my leg, her mouth soft and warm, and by the time she reaches my thigh, I’m having trouble breathing.
“Eva—”
She looks up at me through her lashes. “Yes?”
“You’re killing me.”
“That’s the idea.” She moves higher still, and when her mouth brushes against my boxer briefs—against the very obvious evidence of what she’s doing to me—I make a sound that’s not quite human. “Can I?” she asks, her fingers hooked in my waistband.
“God, yes.”
She pulls them down, and I’m exposed, vulnerable, harder than I’ve been in years. She looks at me with an expression that’s equal parts hunger and wonder.
“Hi,” she says to my cock, and I choke on a laugh.
“Did you just greet my—?”
“We’re going to be spending a lot of time together. I thought I should be polite.” Before I can respond, she lowers her head, and…
“Wait.” The word comes out strangled. I reach down and cup her face, stopping her. “Come here.”
She looks confused. “I thought you wanted—”
“I do. But not yet.” I pull her up, guiding her to straddle my lap, my legs sticking out over the foot of the bed. The position is awkward, but I don’t care. “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. About you. And I want…” I stop, trying to find the words. “I want to take care of you first.”
“Asher—”
“Let me. Please?”
Her expression softens, and her mouth turns into a sweet smile. “Okay.”
I reach behind her and unclasp her bra, sliding the straps down her shoulders. She shivers as the cool air hits her skin. I take a moment just to look at her—the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the way the moonlight turns her into something ethereal.
“You’re staring,” she whispers.
“I can’t help it. You’re…” I shake my head. “There aren’t words.”
I pull her closer and kiss her collarbone. Her neck. The spot behind her ear makes her gasp. My hands learn the landscape of her back, her sides, her hips. I want to memorize every inch of her.
“I need…” She squirms against me, and the friction makes us both groan. “Asher, I need…”
“I know. I’ve got you.” I hook my fingers in her underwear, and she lifts her hips so I can slide them down. Then she’s bare, straddling me, and I have to close my eyes for a second to keep from losing my mind entirely.
I feel the heat of her, wet and slick and pressed against my throbbing cock. “Keep climbing,” I say into her hair.
“What?”
“Come here.” I lean back carefully, mindful of my ankle, and reposition us so she’s sitting on my chest, her thighs bracketing my head.
She looks down at me, eyes wide. “Asher—”
“Come. Here.” I grin, and her mouth drops open as she realizes I’m pulling her to sit on my face.
Eva tastes like salt and want and something uniquely her.
I learn her the way I learn everything—systematically, thoroughly, paying attention to what makes her gasp and what makes her moan and what makes her thighs tremble against my ears.
“Oh god…” Her hands find my hair, gripping hard. “Asher, that’s—”
I don’t stop. Don’t ease up. I want to give her this. Want to show her with my body what I can’t quite say with words: she matters. Her pleasure thrills me. I would spend hours here, days here, learning every single thing that makes her fall apart.
She grips the headboard and throws her head back, her body bowed in an arch of goosebumps and tremors.
“Asher. I’m going to—” Her voice is high, desperate. “I’m so close, I’m—” I slide two fingers inside her and curl them just right, and she shatters.
The sound she makes is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Her whole body shakes with it, clenching around my fingers, her thighs squeezing my head. I work her through it, gentling my touch through the aftershocks.
When she stills, she slumps forward. “Holy shit,” she breathes.
“Good?”
She lets out a laugh that’s more like a sob. “Good is not the word. Good is so inadequate. I need a thesaurus.”
I help her slide down my body until she’s on top of me, her head on my chest, both of us breathing hard. “Give me a second,” she mumbles into my skin. “I need to remember how to be a person.”
“Take your time.” I run my fingers through her hair, memorizing the feel of the silk against my skin.
She lifts her head. Her eyes are hazy, satisfied, but there’s something else there, too. Something really vulnerable. “That was…” She shakes her head. “No one’s ever done that before.”
“Made you come?”
“Put me first like that. Made it about me.” She traces a finger along my jaw.
The confession stirs something possessive deep in my chest. “Not with me,” I say. “With me, you come first. Always.”
She kisses me, tasting herself on my mouth and not seeming to mind. The kiss starts soft but builds, and I feel her hand sliding down my stomach, reaching for me.
“Your turn to feel good,” she murmurs against my lips. She wraps her hand around me, and I forget how to think. “I want you inside me. Is that okay?”
“Eva, that is so far beyond okay—”
“Condom?” she asks.
“Nightstand. Top drawer.” I order those in bulk along with my fancy coffee. The last thing I want is everyone at the Quick Lick knowing what brand of condoms and lube I keep in stock just to throw them out once they expire. Not this time, though. I have a fresh box that Eva rips open gleefully.
She unwraps one of the condoms and rolls it on me, her touch confident and sure.
Then she positions herself over me, and I have to grip her hips to keep from thrusting up immediately.
We figure it out together, laughing at the logistics, the awkwardness somehow making it better instead of worse.
She ends up on top, straddling me again, her hands braced on my chest. “Ready?” she asks.
“I’ve been ready for weeks.”
She sinks onto me slowly, inch by inch, and we both groan at the sensation. She’s slick and hot and perfect, and I have to think about spreadsheets and coding bugs and anything except how good she feels to keep from embarrassing myself.
“Okay?” I manage.
“So perfect.” She starts to move, rolling her hips in a rhythm that makes my vision blur. “God, Asher. You feel—”
“I know. You too. You’re…” Words fail us both. We find our rhythm instead, her rising and falling, me meeting her thrusts as best I can with one good leg. My hands roam her body—her breasts, her hips, her ass. I pull her down to kiss her, and the angle changes, and she gasps against my mouth.
“There,” she breathes. “Right there, don’t stop…”
I don’t. I grip her hips and help her move, hitting that spot again and again. She’s getting close—I can feel it in the way she tightens around me, the way her breathing goes ragged. “Come for me,” I tell her. “I want to feel you.”
She falls apart above me with a cry, her whole body clenching, and the sensation pulls me over the edge with her. I come so hard I see stars, my fingers digging into her hips, her name on my lips like a mantra. We collapse together, sweaty and spent and gasping for breath.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks. We just breathe, tangled up in each other, her heart pounding against my chest.
“Wow,” she says.
“Yeah.”
She laughs, exhausted and happy, and I feel it vibrate through both of us. “We should do that again sometime.”
“Give me twenty minutes.”
“Deal.”
My phone starts buzzing somewhere inside my pants pocket, and I growl.
Eva lifts her head. Her hair is a disaster, her makeup smudged, and she’s never been more beautiful.
“Hey,” she says softly.
“Hey.”
“I’m really glad I broke your ankle.”
I laugh—a real laugh, the kind I haven’t made in years. “You are lucky I’m obsessed with you.”
The phone buzzes again.
Eva turns to the puddle of denim on the floor. “Want me to grab it for you?”
“Only so I can turn it off,” I promise, and she hops up, throwing the cursed device at me on her way to my bathroom to clean up.
I stab at the power button and throw it across the room.
Eva settles back down against my chest. I wrap my arms around her and inhale the scent of her shampoo, the musky smell of sex, the perfection of this entire evening.
“It’s so quiet here,” she murmurs.
“Mm,” I grunt. “It used to be until you got here.”
She tugs at my chest hair. “Meanie. I just… there’s no cars. No city noise. Just the sound of crickets and the wind in the maple trees.”
“You like that?” I start to plan out noise machines or traffic tracks I can play through the night if it means I can keep her here, but her response is faster than my racing anxiety.
“It’s really nice.” She snuggles closer.
I should get up. Clean up. But Eva is warm and heavy against me, her breathing already slowing toward sleep, and I can’t bring myself to move.
This is what I’ve been missing, I realize.
Not just sex, though that was incredible.
But the after. The intimacy of lying tangled together with someone who knows you. Who chose you anyway.
I press a kiss to the top of her head.
“Asher?” she murmurs.
“Mm?”
“I’m really happy right now.”
My chest cracks open a little further. “Me too.”
“Good.”
I lie there in the dark, listening to her breathe, and try to remember the last time I felt this content.
I can’t.
Maybe I never have.
The thought should scare me. It doesn’t. Not anymore.
I close my eyes and let myself drift, Eva’s weight anchoring me to Fork Lick in a welcome embrace.