Chapter Nineteen - Scarlett
I can’t breathe. Not from the champagne. Not from the backhanded media compliments or the glitter-covered hors d’oeuvres.
But from Asher Kingston.
Standing across the room like a walking secret. Like temptation personified. Like the only person in this entire town who can look at me and undo me with a glance.
And yet—I can’t stop thinking about what Caleb said.
“People like Asher—people with secrets—they bury them for a reason.”
Asher has since been avoiding me, which naturally has made me uneasy about it all. Sure, I’m attracted to him, I’m only human. I thought it was more than that, but my mind keeps reminding me that there has to be more to the bullshit that Caleb keeps bringing up and using to get inside my head.
I down another flute of imposter champagne, the thought makes me chuckle because what if Asher is just like this cheap brut perusing as champagne—as something more than he is.
The extra bit of liquid courage has given me the strength to question him, even though I probably have no right.
It’s not like we are dating. No, but I am about to be his manager.
If he has skeletons in the closet, I need to assess the bones before the detectives come knocking AKA the vulture media.
I eye Asher leaving for the hallway again, fishing his phone from his pocket and watch as he answers the incoming call in the darkness. Right back where we started this Caleb fiasco less than an hour ago.
I wait for his call to end; it’s sounds like he was speaking to a lawyer or maybe the agent he is letting go judging by the serious tone in his voice.
This time, I don’t let him speak first.
“What is he talking about?” I demand. He looks down at his phone as if to say, my phone call. “Caleb. What is it you’re hiding?” I reiterate, making my question perfectly clear.
Asher’s leaning against the wall, and he slips one hand in his pocket, jaw tight. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” I echo, crossing my arms. “Because it didn’t sound like nothing when he basically told me to run for the hills.”
He exhales, hard. “You don’t need to worry about it.”
“Don’t need to—excuse me? I’m about to be your agent. You think I’m going to represent someone who could explode on a national scale and not know what I’m walking into?”
Using the agent card and not the I might be falling for you, and I don’t know you well enough card, catches Asher off guard.
His eyes flash, and his hurt does the talking “It’s already out there. All of it. The accident. The fallout. The media frenzy. If you want to Google it, go ahead. But I’m not explaining myself to you like I owe you something.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No,” he snaps, voice low and heated, “what’s not fair is everyone in this damn town acting like I’m radioactive.
I’m signing with your agency, Scarlett. You want the truth?
That’s it. It’s nothing new. It’s just shit I already lived through once.
” He runs his hand through his hair, and I can tell he’s telling the truth.
Caleb is once again just stirring the pot.
My heart pounds, but I stay still. Quiet.
Studying him. He hasn’t looked away yet, his eyes are searching for mine, pleading with me to believe him.
His brother died in an accident I know that, he did tell me that.
I’m being stupid, I do know it all. Caleb just thinks he has one up on me.
He’s playing stupid games just like year 3 again.
“Okay,” I finally say.
He blinks. “Okay?” Like he can’t believe it was that easy, but I haven’t got the will power to fight with him for no reason right now.
“You’re signing with me.”
He nods, jaw still clenched.
“Then live a little, Kingston. I won’t tell your manager I promise.”
He raises an eyebrow.
I grab his hand.
“C’mon. Drive me home, before I stop listening to the champagne and start listening to my good friend’s logic and reason.”
I’m not sure what this strategy is I’m going for here, but I’m choosing to find out the details later and truly live in the moment—I’ve been trying my hardest to do more of that since mum…
you know. Jen reckons it’s a great coping mechanism and that it’s a sure way to help me grieve if I live each day in the present and not worry about what’s next.
I have been doing a lot of that lately with the move and the business, it’s been all future gazing.
I’m not letting him slip away like I did last time in Sydney.
11:44 PM–The Walker Residence
Ted’s truck is gone. Shell’s car is missing. The lights in the main house are off.
“Where’s your room?” Asher asks, scanning the street like he’s about to break a curfew, or the hedges have eyes.
“I live in the granny flat next to the pool, we call it the pool house,” I whisper, I don’t know why I’m whispering no one is home but he whispered so I’m whispering too.
“Which is why we’re sneaking.” I also don’t know why we are sneaking, feels more fun.
I’m going to blame the cheap bubbles in my blood stream and besides, it’s feels more in the moment like this, spontaneous.
He smirks. “You know this feels so high school.”
“Live. A. Little.” I pronounce each word slowly poking him with my index finger straight into his broad chest.
The door to my decked out 3-bedroom 2-bathroom, barely a granny flat more just a house creaks open. I’m creeping through the threshold like I don’t know what’s waiting on the other side, I’ve really gotten into character with this whole tipsy charade.
Asher has, fortunately (yep, definitely fortunately) taken on my live a little motto because—
finally, we’re inside.
And we’re not talking.
But we’re kissing.
Fuck, we’re kissing.
It’s slow it’s sensual, the way his tongue grazing along my bottom lip finds solace in between my teeth, wrapped around my own tongue nipping, exploring every inch of his mouth. He etches his tongue in and out and sucks softly on my lip.
I pull away looking into his eyes crisp blue, comforting, yet cold, eyes that hide secrets which I now know even if I’m choosing to believe him for the time being.
Eyes that could consume you, who am I fucking kidding eyes that have consumed me.
They’re an ocean, still water even, which is much worse and I’m drowning.
He whispers, “are you sure?” His eyes whisper it too, searching my features like he’s trying to read my mind again.
Those eyes, those blue eyes have burned deep through the fires I’d lit and walls I’d built to keep men like Asher Kingston out.
He stares into my soul “darling?” And if I stare back long enough, I could see his pain, his happiness, his soul too.
“Yes, I’m sure Ash.” His blue eyes piercing into me again as he cups my face in his hand, the way he looks at me, sees me—that alone is so worth the backlash.
There are two things I know Asher does very well football and sex. Not in that order, sex is first, obviously—for me anyway.
His hands rough, but delicate—roam my entire body, they grip and caress me like they belong to me.
His fingertips lift up under my shirt delicately skating across my skin and causing goosebumps to erupt, our clothes are half-removed before we even make it to the bed, I’ve never slipped off my underwear so fast in my life.
He is everywhere exploring, remembering, worshipping.
And my hands? Mine are gripping his shirt, my fingers grasping the cotton turning my knuckles white—I need him—dragging him closer, keeping our mouths pressed against one and other gasping, like I’ll die if we separate now.
This isn’t like the quickie in the sheds, this is different, I can’t put my finger on it, but it feels more real. Like something has shifted.
“You sure?” he whispers against my jaw again, allowing half a second to breathe.
“Yes,” I breathe. “God, yes, don’t ask me again.”
It’s not fast. It’s not messy. Our desperation to touch has turned into something more. Something less primal and more savouring.
It’s slow. Deep. Familiar. Like we’ve done this before. We have done this before. Like we belong here, together.
Asher’s lips graze down the side of my neck—his tongue flicking out and darting across my sensitive skin—my body reacts and contorts with goosebumps once again filling my bare skin. The burning between my thighs grows with every subtle touch and tease my whole body yearns for this man even more.
I can’t take it, pulling his mouth back to mine I wiggle in place edging him forward to the ache and longing at the top of my thighs.
He can feel my need, the same way I can feel his.
It’s a heat radiating between us. I slide my hand slowly down his god carved body feeling the muscles I so often admire from afar.
My hand reaches its destination and slowly I stroke him back and forth toward me, squeezing the sensitive spot on the top of his shaft where a pearl of precum sits.
I position his tip so it’s stroking just along my centre and teasing my clit—I am dripping wet with anticipation, squeezing my thighs together at the feeling of the way he’s rubbing against me, and his hand has joined mine helping me use him this way.
Now it’s his turn to react he lets out a soft “fuck” and a sound I wish I could play on repeat, the sexiest moan, a whimper.
He’s losing the foreplay battle. He pulls back and his long, thick fingers slide inside me, his thumb circling my centre as he slides two fingers slowly in and out, filling me up.
The combination is making me crazy as I grind against his hand wanting more.
“Please, fuck me Ash, I can’t take this” I beg breathless and burning, giving in first. He was waiting for me to beg.
In a swift movement his fingers are replaced by the thickness of his tip edging inside me, slowly opening me up.
It’s euphoric, it’s everything I have needed so badly these past few days. Everything up until this point has been a gateway drug, a gateway drug to this version of Asher—sensual, slow, and sexy.
With a strong thrust Asher Kingston is inside me, my mouth parts further and I release a soft moan, we are moving, grinding and breathless as one.
My fingers are frantic scratching at his back as his hands cup my face to kiss me again, but he’s too in the moment his lips linger just above mine mouths open breathing the same air back and forth.
He’s hitting a sweet spot, and my legs contort and lock around his waist pulling him even closer grinding into him growing more and more desperate. Right there don’t stop.
Together we lock eyes, and he whispers through gritted teeth “I’m going to come baby, are you—“
“—yes, I’m on the pill. Just do it.”
And with that confirmation Asher fills inside me as the hot rush releases and he moans. I moan with him losing myself against his bare sweaty chest.
Asher and I have just had sex. Mind boggling sensual, soft. Come at the same time sex.
The kind of love making you don’t forget.
The kind of night that ruins you for anyone else.
I can only compare it to one other night in my life. Two years ago, after a party, with Mr mysterious.
The Next Morning—6:12 AM
I wake to the sound of Asher yanking on his Ridgebacks hoodie and stumbling around the granny flat like a bad robber, but with an impressive six-pack.
I watch as he carefully and quietly picks up his fresh underwear and his training shorts from an overnight bag he conveniently had stashed away in the boot of his mustang—suss if you ask me.
He was either very prepared for where this night was headed or he’s always prepared for his night to head this way, with possibly anyone.
I shake the thought from my mind, obviously a man like that can pull some serious pussy, but it’s the last thing I need to be thinking about right now and sending myself into a downward spiral.
Besides, we aren’t exclusive, we aren’t dating—in fact, I’m his manager now.
“You’re sneaking out?” I’ve popped my head up out from under the blanket, leaning up on my right arm so I can see all of him more clearly now. It’s a view I could get used to in the morning, his sleepy face and messy hair is divine.
He turns, grinning. “Practice.”
“You always keep a bag of gear in your car?” So much for letting it go Scar.
He shrugs. “Yeah, all the boys do in case we need spares.”
“Oh, because you’re such a player, right? Always staying at random houses?” The jealous taste in my mouth has translated into words, and I’m not happy I’ve now said them out loud.
Asher smirks, not the least bit ruffled by my jealous snap. In fact, I think he quite enjoys seeing this side of me.
He leans over and presses a kiss to my lips shutting me up.
“Only the ones with pretty girls who boss me around.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I murmur, reaching up and grazing my fingertips over the kiss, hoping I can savour it until the next one, whenever that may be.
“I’ll text you after practice, and don’t frown like that. I don’t sleep around…well when I’m seeing someone,” He stares into my eyes and it lays an air of seriousness over us like a blanket “and a smile as pretty as yours Scar should always come before a frown, how’s that for flattery?”
He laughs and tiptoes out like a man on a covert mission.
“Watch out for Te—” I whisper yell as he quietly shuts the door behind him. Well, that’s now out of my hands, and I tried—not very hard but I tried.
Now I’m laying here staring at the ceiling in disbelief of who just walked out of my granny flat.
If you told Scarlett a year ago that she would not only run into Mr Mysterious but would be reliving the best night of her life and sign him to her own agency, she’d laugh in your face.
Regardless of the night I’ve had, what Asher said does lingers in the front of my mind.
I’ll text you later…I don’t sleep around.
Asher what does that mean. I get up early too deciding today is a good day and I’m going to spend the morning doing one of those Pilates classes Shell keeps raving about.
After all I’m on a high. I grab the blanket smiling like an idiot and flop back down to just lay in this dream for 5 more minutes though.