Chapter 12
Ella
Okay, so brunch wasn’t a total disaster. In fact, it went pretty damn well.
After my dad interrupted the Italian date and Brent had shown up, I was worried I might have scared Asher off. A dad and an ex appearing in the same breath doesn’t scream relationship material, but Asher hadn’t changed one iota around me.
I shower and change into my sweats, planning on writing for the rest of the day, when someone knocks on the door.
A grin breaks across my face when I open it and find Asher. “Miss me already?”
He huffs a laugh and steps inside. “Something like that. I thought we could hang out.”
I shut the door and track him as he wanders over to the couch. “I need to write. You might be bored.”
He shakes his head, his smile small. “I like watching you.”
A few minutes later, Asher is lying on the couch, and I’m between his legs, my back to his chest. My laptop is balanced on my knee, but he’s promised not to read over my shoulder.
“Don’t you need your music?” he whispers in my ear, kissing my neck softly.
Shivers run down my spine, heat ignites between my legs, and I nod slowly.
He leans for my headphones from the coffee table, but before placing them on my head, he pauses.
“Random question. You said you took packages in for Barnaby?”
I twist a little to look at him. “Yep.”
“Where are they?”
“In the spare room, gathering dust.” I face my laptop again. “I might hold them hostage when he gets back, the little weed.” I resume typing. “Why?”
“Just curious. He mentioned that he might have accidentally had something delivered to you. A hard drive.”
I tilt my head and shrug. “Not that I know of. Can’t he just buy another one?”
He smiles. “True. Stealing packages, though. That’s mail fraud, Ms Gibson.”
I chuckle, my fingers flying over the keyboard. “I’ll hand myself in when I’ve finished working.”
He places my headphones over my ears, and I start my music. As the slow, haunting piano soundtrack plays, I work, and Asher’s hands find my shoulders. His palms are warm as he rubs his thumbs into the tense muscles, his hands strong, confident.
Distracting in the best way.
I swallow, my typing slowing as his fingers creep around to my throat, his thumbs working into my nape. His hands wrap around my neck so easily, and I feel so delicate in his hold, so breakable.
“That feels good,” I whisper, pulling off my headphones. The music is still audible, and I close my eyes, relaxing into Asher’s chest. “Harder.” His breath is warm in my ear, and he pushes his thumbs deeper into the muscles in the back of my neck.
Arousal is already soaking my underwear, my body aching for him, my skin tingling at every point of contact. I arch my back slightly and his hand circles my throat.
He squeezes.
A moan escapes my lips, partly muffled by the tightness of his grip.
“Harder.” I somehow say it, thrilled by his roughness, by him taking the lead in a way no other man has. I’ve always longed to be dominated, to find that glorious line between pleasure and pain, but never had the confidence to ask for it.
Asher clearly doesn’t need to be asked.
His grip tightens.
“Asher …” My fingernails sink into his thighs. I take his other hand and guide it into my sweats, grinding myself against him.
“Fuck,” he breathes into my ear, his fingers circling my clit. “When I came over, I didn’t think this would happen.”
I open my eyes, gazing up at his handsome face. “Do you want it to happen?”
He searches my eyes, his expression almost tortured, and for a moment I think he might stop.
Until he kisses me.
The contact of our lips is an open flame to gasoline, and he devours me as his hand moves lower, his fingers sinking into my wetness. He growls into my mouth, a possessive, domineering sound that has me whimpering.
He circles his finger around my opening, then pulls his hand out.
His fingers shine with my arousal, and my cheeks heat.
“Is this all for me, Ella?” I nod, my body trembling against his.
He returns his hand to my pussy and moves in and out of me slowly, adding another finger, then another.
He bites my bottom lip before running his tongue across it, his hold on my neck still strong.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He kisses me again with more urgency than before.
The heel of his hand presses into my clit and I cry out into his mouth, my climax getting closer, my body tightening with every movement.
I arch my back. “Asher, yes—”
He kisses my neck. “Say my name again.”
“Asher, Asher—”
“Louder.”
I cry out his name, my orgasm slamming into me, glorious ebbs of pleasure powering through my body.
When I slump back against his chest, he keeps his hand on my neck, his breath quick like he experienced the pleasure through me.
“I should go.”
My eyes snap open, and he removes his hand from my sweats.
Oh, God. What did you do? Do you make weird noises when you come?
“Go? Why?” I watch as he gets up and goes for the door. “Asher! You can’t just make me come then leave!”
He faces me, running his hand across his mouth. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean for that to happen. That isn’t why I came here.”
He avoids my eye, and he shifts in place.
Oh. My. God.
My shoulders soften as realization dawns. “You came over to break up with me.”
He winces. “Something like that, yeah.” Fury bolts through my system, and I pick up a couch cushion and launch it at him. It smacks him in the face before thudding to the ground. “Ella, I’m sorry—”
“Take your sorry and shove it up your ass!” I screech, fully aware that I’m leaning into unhinged territory, and not fucking caring. I hop up onto the couch. “I like you. I really like you. What the hell did I do wrong?”
His brows pinch together, and God, he looks like he pities me.
Throw something else at him!
And he’s also bleeding.
My hands fly to my mouth as Asher touches his cheek, where the zip of the cushion must have caught his skin. “Oh, my God.” I scramble over the couch to go to him, cupping his face. “I’m so sorry.”
He sighs. “It’s fine—”
“You’re bleeding, Asher!” I examine the cut, tears welling in my eyes.
“I’m leaving.”
My heart almost stops. “I’m sorry, I—”
He takes hold of my wrists gently. “No, I mean … Barnaby doesn’t need me to stay for much longer.
I’m leaving San Francisco.” He searches my eyes.
“I like you, too. So fucking much, Ella. But I can’t torture myself by only having you for a few more weeks.
” He kisses me gently, and I don’t have the strength to pull away.
“I don’t want just moments with you, so I have to end this.
” Another kiss, longer this time, and it reignites the fire we’d shared only minutes ago.
“That makes sense …” I whisper against his mouth.
And it does. I don’t want a long-distance relationship, especially not when I’ve only known the guy for two weeks. I barely have time for him when he lives the floor below me—if he’s another state away, we’re doomed.
“It’s sensible,” he says, kissing me again, pulling me flush against him.
“So sensible,” I gasp out as his lips travel down my throat, his hands firmly gripping my ass. “But I’m not selfish.”
“Hm?” He nibbles my shoulder, pushing down the strap of my vest top.
Before he can go further, I get to my knees and grip his belt. A muscle feathers beneath his jaw as he looks down at me, cornflower blue eyes filled with fire and need.
I unbuckle his belt. “I don’t want you to leave and remember me as someone who only takes.” I slip the leather free from the buckle and pull down his zipper.
“Ella—”
“Shut up, Asher.” I tug down his pants, releasing his cock, my eyes widening and my pussy clenching at the sight of it. I glance up at him. “Say goodbye after you’ve come down my throat.”