Chapter 23 #2
Asher steadies me on my feet with a disappointed sigh, and I fan my face. He adjusts himself again, the best he can, then reaches for the doorknob.
“Wait,” I whisper. “They can’t know about us, remember? Act normal.” I fuss with his hair. “And try to be less sexy.”
He huffs a laugh.
On an exhale, I open the door. Cam immediately steps inside and yanks me in for a hug. “I missed you, kid.”
“I missed you too,” I reply, then hug his fiancée. “It’s so good to see you.”
When Asher embraces Joey, she eyes me skeptically over his shoulder. “What were you two doing?”
“N-nothing. We just got here,” I reply as evenly as possible.
“You’re not staying with my sister, are you?” Cam locks hands with Asher—hard, by the bulge in the veins in his forearm.
“What?” Asher says, his face paling a little.
Cam nods to the brown leather bag Asher dropped just inside the door when we arrived.
Panic rising inside me, I swoop in. “Nope. His room wasn’t ready yet, so I said he could leave his stuff here until later.”
The look Joey gives me is intense enough to burn a hole through my retinas if I made direct eye contact, I’m sure of it.
“Give me a minute to change and we can go.” I sling my weekender over my shoulder and head for my bedroom.
“Hurry up,” both Cam and Asher shout after me.
I toss them matching middle fingers without turning around.
When I return, Cam and Joey are hunched over Asher’s phone, swiping through pictures and videos of Bea and wearing the biggest smiles.
As I approach, they all straighten up and Asher tucks his phone into the pocket of his shorts. He’s wearing a backward hat now, obviously ignoring my request of looking less sexy.
“Where should we go?” I ask, once we’re on the sweltering streets of Manhattan. I’m so glad I changed into an athletic dress.
My brother clasps Joey’s hand and leads us west. “I know the perfect place.”
Asher and I fall in line behind them, and every several steps, his hand grazes my lower back or ass. The touch is so swift and subtle the first time it happens that I assume it’s an accident, but after the third time—and once I catch the smirk on his face—it’s obvious it’s intentional.
Cam stops outside For the Vibes, an adult toy store wedged between a vintage record shop and a Thai restaurant. A store I’ve ordered from online but have never been inside.
We walk up a flight of stairs, and as we enter the building, we’re welcomed by two blow-up dolls—one dressed in lingerie, the other in a leather harness and a strap-on.
Eyes wide, I turn to Cam. “Go stand over there so I can pretend like the timeline where my brother and I are in the same sex shop doesn’t exist. Please?”
He ruffles my hair. “Don’t be so immature, sis.”
“C’mon.” Joey loops her arm through mine and drags me deeper into the store. “The party stuff is over there.” She points to the back wall, where a rainbow penis pinata hangs from the ceiling.
Soon my hands are filled with so much bachelorette and bridal merchandise that I’m forced to find a basket. That’s when I bump into Asher.
“There you are,” he croons. “Have you been avoiding me?”
Scanning the surrounding area, I spot Cam and Joey safely engrossed in studying the items on the far wall.
“I’m not avoiding you. It’s just awkward with my brother here.”
He nods like he doesn’t quite believe me but leaves it at that.
“I was thinking…” he says with a twinkle in his eyes. “Why don’t you pick something out we can have a little extra fun with this weekend?”
His limbs are loose, his expression bright. This is the most relaxed I’ve seen him all summer. Maybe this weekend is the escape he needs. A break from the camp. From fatherhood. A weekend to simply be a carefree man in his twenties.
Scanning the shelves of sex toys, I ask, “See something you like?”
His lips brush against my jaw. “Surprise me.”
With that, he disappears around the corner.
Asher wanted no part in decorating his sister’s wedding night suite—that’s fair—so I handed him my key and told him to help himself to anything in my apartment, including calling down for room service.
Cam excuses himself to catch up on some work, and Joey and I have a ridiculously fun time decorating for our friends, taking obnoxious selfies throughout the process.
I’m still wearing a huge grin on my face when I stride into my apartment.
“Ash?” I call, expecting to find him lounging on the sectional watching videos of Bea or taking a nap.
“Back here,” he replies.
I follow the sound of his voice to the laundry room, and when I find him, I zero in on the corded muscles and veins of his arm as he grips the iron.
A domestic Asher is a damn fine sight.
“Hope this is okay,” he says, running the iron across a pair of midnight blue slacks.
“Of course,” I say, my voice breathy. “Make yourself at home. I’m gonna order something to eat. Do you have any preferences?”
When he shakes his head, I turn to leave, but he calls my name before I make it out of the room.
“C’mere.” He sets the iron upright on the board and then grasps my wrist and tugs me into him, pressing his lips against mine.
The kiss is tender at first, but in a matter of seconds, he’s gripping my nape tightly and thrusting his tongue into my mouth.
He’s commanding and greedy, and I’m putty in his hands.
When I reach around to his backside and squeeze his tight ass, he moans.
Then, all too soon, he’s pulling away.
Breath shaky, I blink up at him. “What was that for?”
“If we’re going to keep this a secret for the rest of the night, I wanted something to hold me over.”
I slide a hand down his chest. “I’ve never been someone’s dirty little secret before.”
His eyes narrow. “You’re anything but dirty, Claire.”
“You haven’t seen what I bought for later.” I pat him on the pec, then pivot on my heel and leave him to finish his domestic duties.
Later, we FaceTime Bea. She couldn’t care less about being away from either of us. She’s having way too much fun making homemade ice cream with Grandma and Grandpa.
In preparation for the evening’s festivities, I take a shower. I’m standing in a towel, my hair freshly blown out, applying the finishing touches to my makeup, when there’s a tap on the open doorway.
Behind me, he holds up two shirts. “Which one?”
I’m too distracted by the sight of his broad, bare chest in the mirror to answer. His pants hang low on his hips, his belt unbuckled, accentuating his obliques. Rather than inspect the shirts, I imagine tracing his taut muscles with my tongue.
He shakes both shirts gently, snapping me out of my daze.
Clearing my throat, I turn to face him and focus on the garments in question. Right away, I point to the short-sleeve ivory button-down. “That one. It doesn’t clash with your nails,” I tease before turning back to the mirror to apply mascara.
Asher looks slightly annoyed when I finally come out of the bedroom, fully dressed and ready to go but late as usual. Only I have a feeling all will be forgiven in just one moment.
“Wow,” he exhales. “You look stunning.”
I’m wearing a strapless corset bodycon midi dress in a coral color with nude platforms. The garment alone makes me feel sexy, but Asher’s ignited expression is an added perk.
“I have something for you. Close your eyes.”
Brow furrowed, he gives me a skeptical look, but he does as he’s told. Such a good boy.
Taking his hand, I place a rectangular piece of plastic into it.
His brows scrunch in contemplation, but he doesn’t peek.
“You can look now.”
His eyes flutter open and narrow on the fob-like item. “What’s this?”
“Turn it on and find out,” I whisper, ducking in close.
He presses the On button, and nothing happens right away, but when he clicks the button with a squiggly line on it, my core clenches and my body visibly jerks.
He gasps, though the sound quickly turns into a growl. “Fuck, Dr. Connelly. Is this what you picked out at the shop?”
I nod.
“Naughty girl.”
He presses the Mode button again, changing the vibration tempo, and when my knees buckle in response, his green eyes glint devilishly.
“Your pleasure is mine tonight, baby.”
Head spinning, I frown. “Wh-what?”
He lifts my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “You heard me. Your pleasure belongs to me. Do you consent?”
An incoherent squeak escapes my lips.
Voice gravelly, he says, “I want to hear you.”
Heat curls in my lower abdomen and seeps through my veins. Damn. I’m digging this side of Asher. This Asher, who says what he wants, is refreshing and addicting.
“More of this, please.” I breathe.
He searches my eyes. “More of what?”
“Boss me around. Tell me what you want.”
“Does that turn you on?”
“Yes,” I whimper, my legs shaking a little.
He yanks me by the hips, moving me until my body is flush with his. Like this, can he feel the vibrations through my body?
“Then tell me, baby. Tell me what’s mine.”
“M-my pleasure. My pleasure is all yours.”
“That’s my girl.”
My girl.
What in the actual fuck has gotten into him and how do I bottle this up so I can hoard it all?
He spares me, turning the vibrator off when we share an Uber with Cam and Joey. But as we step up to the entrance of FrenchSHEs—the club where Millie works between her traveling theater tours—a wicked grin lights up Asher’s face.
“I’m gonna need a drink,” I mumble, bracing myself for what’s to come.
My parents wave us over when we walk inside, my father tugging me into a hug first. I’ve always been a bit of a daddy’s girl, much like Bea.
“Hi, honey. We’ve missed you,” he says.
After hugging my mother, I introduce them to Asher. Or reintroduce them? I honestly can’t recall if their paths have ever crossed.
“This is Ah-sh—Asher,” I stammer, because someone has a death wish and sent a quick shock straight to my pussy. It’s over just as soon as it began, but I’m afraid the damage has been done.
“Claire, darling, are you okay? You’re acting strangely.”
Before I have a chance to reply—or strike the man standing beside me—Asher steps forward. “Good to see you, Mr. and Mrs. Connelly.”
Dad holds out his hand in greeting. “Please, call us Cliff and Stephanie.”
Asher accepts the invitation with a charming smile. “I’ve heard such wonderful things about the both of you.”
“That’s nice. I’m afraid we haven’t heard much about you.” Mom’s tone is neutral but soft and kind. “It seems our Claire has been too busy this summer to pay much attention to us.” Okay, so that last bit was a little condescending.
Cam and Joey appear beside us and greet my parents. Confident we’re in the clear, I take a step to the side, ready to exit this conversation.
But Asher thwarts my plan, saying, “I’m afraid that would be my fault. I’ve been greedy with Dr. Connelly’s time.” He turns to me and smirks. “But it’s only because she’s so good.”
My parents, thankfully, seem oblivious to the innuendo.
Before he can make it worse, before my brother catches on, I clap my hands. “Has anyone heard from the newlyweds yet? Should we crack open a bottle of bubbly?”
“Ezra texted. They’re on their way,” Cam confirms while his fiancée flags over a bartender.
We’re at a VIP booth in the back when the newly wedded couple walks in.
Millie could win a brightness competition with the sun; she’s shining so incandescently.
Joey and I slip out of our seats and rush her, nearly knocking her over in our excitement.
Around us, our cozy crowd screams and shouts congratulatory remarks so loudly it makes my ears ring.
I’ve known Ezra since I was in middle school, and I’ve never seen him this proud or this smitten.
“Congrats, old man,” I tease. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks, kid.” He squeezes me tightly but is promptly swept away by his wife’s coworkers.
The second I finish my empty flute, a waiter is by my side with a bottle of champagne.
“How are you doing tonight?” His steel eyes are stunning and the slight gap between his front teeth only adds to his charm. He’s very attractive.
“Hi. Fine, thanks. And you?” I grin, holding my glass out for him.
I have no idea where Asher went. We got separated in the crowd a little while ago. But just as the waiter begins to pour, a vibration jolts through me, starting between my legs and radiating outward, causing my wrist to flinch, and in turn, the liquid to slosh over the side of the glass.
“Sorry,” I squeak, righting myself as best I can when there’s a vibrator going off inside me like an alarm clock.
Rather than walk away after he fills my glass, the attractive man makes small talk. At least I think he does. I can’t comprehend a word. I’m too distracted by the sensation between my thighs.
I’m fighting for my life, gulping back a gasp, but the man is oblivious. I’m about to excuse myself when Asher turns up by my side.
“How’s it going?” he asks much too cheerfully.
I muffle my answer with a mouthful of champagne, the bubbles burning down my throat. The waiter speaks again, and Asher says, “We’re good here,” dismissing him.
After setting down my glass, I straighten my shoulders. “I’m going to dance.”
Doing my best to appear unaffected by the edging he’s putting me through, I strut onto the dance floor, slithering through the sea of people.
Joey cheers when I spot her, and together we find a rhythm with the music.
I’m swaying my hips to the beat, my hands in the air, reveling in the reaction on Asher’s face, blissed out.
That is until my brother and parents join us on the dance floor.
I assumed bringing this fantasy of Asher’s to life would be thrilling and erotic. But clearly, I did not think it through. Sweat forms at my hairline, and while the need for relief is fierce, I absolutely cannot have an orgasm in front of my family. I don’t have time for that much therapy.
“Be right back,” I shout, sprinting through the crowd.
I’m focused on the floor, careful not to step on or trip over anyone, when I smack into a hard body.
Asher wraps his arms around my waist, halting me. “Do you need some help?” His tone is anything but obliging.
“Fuck you,” I pant.
“Beg and you shall receive.”