CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Asher
“Did you see it?” Ledger asks, his free hand pointing to the sky as a star streaks across it before burning itself out.
We’re lying on the blanket. His arm is wrapped around me with my head resting on his arm. Two bottles of wine have been consumed, a charcuterie has been devoured, and we’re both just soaking in the tranquility of the evening. Of the perfection he created in bringing me here tonight.
“I did,” I murmur.
“Are you going to make a wish? I seem to remember you were quite big on that back in the day.”
My smile is bittersweet. What’s is like to be young and na?ve and think the world will treat you like you deserve?
“I think I’m too old to make wishes, Ledge.”
“What? No. You’re never too old for wishes”—he squeezes his arm around me—“or dreams. You need to make one.”
I feel silly but close my eyes and scrunch up my nose anyway.
But I remember that last wish I made. And how not long after Ledger up and left Cedar Falls abruptly—once I’d given myself to him—and the gossip that burned through town in the days and weeks to come.
That Ledger had gotten what he’d wanted from this small-town girl before going back to his hot, socialite girlfriend.
That I’d ruined the summer for every other girl there who’d had their sights set on Callahan and Ford because they’d left too.
That I was trash just like my mom, trying to screw my way up because I’d never amount to anything otherwise, so I deserved the cruel words and harsh judgment.
I’d earned it like a badge. And I’d proved them right—I’d never amount to anything.
And yet, with my eyes clenched shut, I wish.
I wish that this were real. I wish this never had to end. I wish the same wish as I did before, fifteen years ago.
When I open my eyes, he’s still there, still looking at me like he did back then. But this time, there’s something more in his eyes. Adoration. Lust. Respect. Desire. Hope.
Important things for any woman to see. To know that someone feels that way when they look at her.
I reach out and cup the side of his face, needing to touch him. Needing to know he really is real.
He turns his face into my hand and presses a kiss on my palm. Be still my heart.
I rise onto my knees, his eyes narrowing and full of curiosity as he watches me lean forward and press a kiss to his lips.
He tastes of the wine we just drank and the certainty that I need as I slowly move to straddle him while I deepen the kiss.
His body is warm beneath me, and the summer night air has the slightest hint of a welcome chill to it.
He kisses me back with the same gentle demand that I do him. His hands are in my hair, on my cheeks, cupping my face. Our tongues dance against one another’s, and our bodies heat up as we make out in the moonlight between the lavender rows.
“Asher,” he murmurs against my lips, a reverent sigh between kisses.
Leaning back, I strip my shirt over my head, wanting to feel the intimacy that comes when his hand runs over my skin. Needing to feel it.
I look down at him, my moonlight boy, and know this is my favorite look on him. Eyes heavy with desire and his smile soft and a little crooked.
“What?” he asks.
“I just want to look at you.” I lean down and press a kiss to his lips.
To his chin. To his neck. “I need to touch you, Ledger,” I murmur against his skin.
My hand runs down the front of his chest. “To taste you.” My lips follow their descent as I crawl back to where his cock is hard and pressed against the seam of his jeans.
His stomach muscles tighten beneath my lips when I make quick work of his zipper, free his cock, and stroke it with my hand. “To devour you.”
The hiss of his breath fills the night air as I slide his cock between my lips and take him all the way to the back of my throat. His thighs tense. His guttural groan is the only thing I hear as he reaches down and cups my chin.
I look up at him through the moonlight night as his eyes turn dark and his eyelids grow heavy with desire.
And with my gaze locked on his, I give him the pleasure he deserves.
With my tongue licking over his crest and my lips suctioning around his shaft and my hands stroking every thick, hard inch of him.
It’s a heady feeling sucking Ledger off. To know that drop of precum that hits my tongue is because of me. To watch a man usually so measured in his actions, lose himself in the sensations I create.
“Ash.” My name is a strained rasp in the night as he fights to hang on to his control, and I provoke him to let go.
By letting his cock hit the back of my throat. By using my fingers to work their magic around the base of his shaft. By humming to add a vibration to the onslaught of sensations I’m already creating for him.
He hardens and swells as his hand moves to my hair and fists there.
I suck harder and stroke faster, my own body aching for his release so he can shift his focus on me. So I can enjoy this body of his.
Because when it comes to Ledger, I can’t seem to ever get enough. Not his touch. Not the sounds he makes when he’s about to come. Not the way he makes me feel, physically and emotionally.
“Ash.” He struggles in indecision. “Fuck.” One hand still in my hair. “Yes.” The other hand pulling on my arm for me to come ride him. “Now.”
A yelp escapes my mouth as he hauls me up and makes quick work of my jeans in an awkward dance of desperation and laughter, all while trying to kiss the breath out of me.
It’s my turn now to moan in ecstasy. At the way he stretches me when I sink down ever so slowly onto him. At the feeling of fullness he creates. At the ever-burning ache that I fear will never be sated.
“Ledge . . . so good,” I murmur against his lips as his fingers dig into the flesh at my hips while I adjust to him.
“Good God, you’re going to be the death of me,” he groans out.
I begin to rock my hips.
At least I can ensure he dies a happy man, then.