Chapter 7 Asher
Asher
There’s something about eating them out
My steps falter, my once wild beating heart drums a low, steady rhythm inside my chest, almost as if it knows something I don’t.
My palms are slick and prickly, itching to reach out and touch her.
My gaze lazily sweeps over her body, and it takes everything in me to keep my jaw from hitting the floor.
Bri’s in a pair of black leggings and a faded, dark gray Brookestone University hoodie.
Her face is free of makeup and her wavy, chestnut hair is in a messy bun atop her head with a few stray curls framing her face.
My fingers twitch with the urge to tangle my fingers in her wild mane.
Can curly hair be a kink? Possibly. But for me, it’s not curly hair in general that does it for me.
It’s her hair. The soft breeze whips her curls around her face, assaulting my nose with her vanilla scented shampoo.
I reminisce on all the times I used to tug at her hair, annoying her being my main goal.
But as I got older and began to understand what attraction meant, I knew it was much deeper than that.
I was merely obsessed with the feel of her hair between my fingertips, the silky strands gliding through my fingers effortlessly.
I shake myself from the trip down memory lane, basking in the glory of the stunning woman before me.
It’s such a simple look, but she’s anything but.
I could get lost in her honey-colored eyes, but if I keep staring, she’s going to think I’m weird.
Dial it back, man. Don’t scare her with your intensity.
“W-Why are you staring at me like that?” Bri asks while fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie.
She looks at her outfit as if she’d like to disappear inside it.
I’m used to the fearless, confident Bri.
The girl who’s never afraid to call you out on your shit.
But the woman who stands before me is clearly lost. She’s like a deer in the forest; any sudden movement and she’ll bolt.
My heart aches at seeing her struggle, my body buzzing with the incessant need to fix it.
But if I learned anything from my brother’s issues with addictions, she has to do this on her own. Regardless of all that, I’m going to do everything in my power to help her.
I clear my throat before answering. “Um nothing. I got the food. I’m starving, so lead the way.”
Bri cocks her head and raises a brow like she doesn’t believe me.
My cheeks ache, a telltale sign of a smile as I catch a small glimpse of the real Brianna.
Underneath all the rubble is the sparkling, sarcastic girl waiting to be pulled out.
Bri turns and heads toward the kitchen, and I silently groan at the sight of her ass.
Hot damn, her body. I only get a glimpse of her ass, but my imagination runs wild at how it would look bent over my desk as I—shit.
Fuck. And now I’m so fucking hard that I need to adjust myself with my other hand.
When I enter the kitchen, Bri is on her tiptoes trying to grab something from the top shelf. Her hoodie rides up just enough to get a peek at her back dimples I just want to sink my teeth into.
Like the masochist I am, I place the takeout bag on the table and walk up behind her to help her grab the plates.
Bri gets spooked, her back slamming against my front.
My hands grip her hips to steady her, and I have to breathe through my nose to steady the fire burning inside me.
This has the opposite effect on me when I get a strong hit of her vanilla-cinnamon scent.
It’s like stepping into a Cinnabon store; the sweet, savory aroma assaults my nose and my cock hardens, pressing against the fly of my jeans.
“Fuck,” the curse slips out. Bri glances over her shoulder, and I’m absolutely gutted at the look of hurt and shame swirling behind her beautiful eyes.
Before I can open my mouth, she’s wiggling out of my arms, looking like she wants to shrink within herself.
Before she can get too far away, I reach out to grab her wrist.
“Hey, what happened? Did I do something wrong?” I’m genuinely confused. Is she upset that I touched her? Did she feel my hard on, and she’s uncomfortable?
“I’m sorry.” Bri looks everywhere but my eyes. I furrow my brows and cock my head to the side, wracking my brain as to why she’s apologizing.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Uh—” She still won’t meet my gaze, so I grab her chin and force her eyes to meet mine.
“I want you to look me in the eyes when you tell me why you’re apologizing.” I wait for her eyes to meet mine. She looks so small, and it breaks my heart.
“I’m not who I used to be.”
Her body squirms beneath my touch, itching to do whatever it takes to get out of this conversation.
“Who you used to be?” I ask, clarifying.
“I…Well, look at me, Asher.” Bri gestures to her body, which leaves me even more puzzled.
“I have eyes, Bri. I need you to tell me what you mean.”
Her jaw drops at my words, her expression baffled. I choose to remain silent, waiting to see if she’ll explain further.
“C’mon, Asher. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
I can feel my face contort with confusion, yet I still say nothing.
“I’ve…” She sputters the words, cheeks and neck as red as a fall sunset. “I’ve gained weight, and I hate how I look.” Her voice clogs with shame. “I-I’m sorry you have to see me like this. I—”
Her words whoosh out of her the second I grab her by the waist and place her on the counter, forcing her legs open so I can step between them. My hands move to grip her thighs, her body shivering beneath my touch.
“Brianna. Eyes on me.” I wait her out, and eventually, she looks at me with tears in her eyes. “Baby, no. Listen to me. I’m not upset at seeing you like this, so I don’t know what you’re apologizing for.”
“Listen, Asher, I don’t need you placating me.”
“I’m not just saying that to say it. I mean it. What do I need to do to prove it to you?” I demand, but she just blinks at me, mouth agape. I need to be quick on my feet with a way to convince her.
“Take the hoodie off.” My hand shoots upward to grip her throat.
“W-What?” Bri stammers. My head cocks to the side as a playful smile spreads across my face. She’s cute when she’s flustered. The hand on her throat squeezes, and I watch her eyes flutter before they become hooded with pleasure.
My girl likes my hand wrapped around her pretty neck. Interesting.
“You heard me. Take. The. Hoodie. Off. Either you do it or I will.”
Bri pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplating her next move. As for me, I want to take that supple, pink flesh in between my teeth, and bite down before soothing the sting with my tongue. What she says next takes me by surprise.
“Take it off yourself. But I’m warning you, it's not pretty.”
How can someone be so insecure and bold at the same time?
Bri lifts her arms over her head, giving me her consent to take it off.
My lungs fill with a slow, calming breath before my hand leaves her throat to move toward the bottom of her hoodie.
My thumbs rub soothing circles on her bare skin as I groan at the feeling of goosebumps that break out on her skin.
The hoodie glides up slowly, and I take in every inch of her upper body.
She’s in nothing but a lavender bralette, and my mouth waters.
What I see are perfect, full tits and curves I want to dig my nails into.
She’s a walking wet dream, and I’m salivating like a dog on Thanksgiving hoping people will accidentally drop food.
“Fuck,” I repeat my sentiment from earlier. She looks good enough to eat.
“See? I told you. Can I have my hoodie back?” She makes a grab for it, but I toss it across the kitchen before turning back to her.
“No. What you did, bear, is lie. I don’t appreciate liars, Bri.” I smirk at her.
“W-What?” Bri asks.
“You heard what I said. A liar. You said I wouldn’t like what I see, but you’re wrong. Do you have any idea how fucking hot your body is? It’s ridiculous how sexy you are. These tits? These curves? I’m having a hard time not devouring you whole right now.”
I lick my lips while staring at her with animalistic hunger burning behind my eyes.
“You’re just saying that. If you were into my body, you’d do something about it. I find it hard to believe you’re that into me.” Bri shrugs. Is she serious right now? How can she not see what I see?
The hand returns to her throat and tightens with enough pressure to not cause too much pain. Bri’s eyes widen not with fear, but lust. I need her eyes on me when I say what I wanna say. I loosen my grip, but keep my hand firm around the base of her throat.
“I want to…so fucking badly. It’s not because I don’t find you hot as hell, but because you don’t find yourself sexy. No amount of me fucking you will fix that. Men don’t define your worth. You do. And until you see just how stunning and amazing you are, we can’t go there.”
She stares at me, jaw on the floor, her cheeks painted with the prettiest blush on them. I’m going to kick myself in the balls for this later, but I have to stick with my plan.
I back away from her embrace, and before she can grab it, I tie her sweatshirt around my waist. I decide to forgo dirtying dishes, deciding to use the now soggy taco wrappers as our makeshift plates.
“Are you joining me, bear? These tacos aren’t gonna eat themselves. There’s just something about eating them out that satisfies me.”
I wink at her, knowing she catches onto the double entendre. She walks over to me in nothing but her bralette and leggings, but instead of digging in, she stares at her food before looking down at her stomach.
“Brianna.” Her name comes out like a command that has the desired effect when her eyes snap up to meet mine.
“Eat or so help me God, I will find a better way to fill that pretty little mouth of yours.”
Bri’s eyes flicker down toward my painfully hard cock while wetting her cherry-red lips. I watch her eyes flutter a few times before lowering the temperature on her desire.
Even though all I can think about is her lips wrapped around me, I watch her finally start to eat her food. Good girl.
I refocus my attention on my half eaten food, but my appetite is gone. Watching Bri this worried about her weight…Well, it kills me inside. The Bri I used to know would go to town on her food—the same way I planned to go down on her.
I have a long way to go with helping her, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Brianna is worth the long haul.
She’s worth forever.