by Brisa Starr
I’m breathing heavily… “You ready, baby? Are you ready for your protein drink?”
She nods her head enthusiastically as she bobs it up and down. “Here you go,” I groan, and I shoot thick jets of my hot cum into her mouth. She sucks, drinks, and licks every drop of it, then looks me in the eye, my cock still filling her mouth. She takes it out and gently pinches the base of my cock, then slowly slides her hand up my shaft, squeezing out every last bit of cum, like a tube of toothpaste. A small blob of thick semen appears at the tip, and she looks down at it and smiles, like she takes pride in her work. Then she looks back into my eyes while she sexily scoops up the last dollop with her tongue and swallows it.
Then, she crawls up next to me and snuggles into me, “How was that?”
“You’re every man’s fantasy come true. Now I just have to figure out how to get my breakfast.”
She smiles. “Oh, that’s easy.”
And as she says it, I know what she’s gonna do. She gets on her knees and straddles my face, towering above me, giving my mouth easy access to her pussy, which is already wet with excitement from when she sucked me off.
I plunge my tongue into her and drink her juice. My juice.
She grinds on my face, spreading her wetness all over my lips, chin, and cheeks, like she’s marking her territory. She’s so fucking hot. “Oh yes, Ryker. God that feels good,” she exhales and reaches down between her legs to rub her sexy little clit as I suck her juices out of her.
“Right there, honey,” she moans. “I’m gonna come… Yes!” Her legs tighten, and she slows her grinding as she clamps down and comes hard on my face.
“God, that felt so good,” she says and, after a moment to catch her breath, she swings her leg up over me and lies back down by my side.
“Is that better?” she says, a playful smile on her lips.
I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth and smack my lips. “I’ll take an order of that every morning.”
After a few minutes, she sits up and stretches, arching her back, and I’m already wanting to have her again. But I need to rest. “I need to rub that smelly stuff on my shoulder and lower back. I won’t object if you want to help.”
“Of course. I’ll do anything to help you,” she says.
I reach over to my nightstand and get the metal tin. She opens it and rubs some on my shoulder, which does make it feel better. Whatever that shit is, it seems to work. I turn over on my side to give her access to my lower back, and she gently rubs some there.
“I’ll make us coffee,” she says and jumps out of bed. She grabs one of my shirts to cover herself, and I watch her bounce to the kitchen.
We’re in a good place right now, and Dad was right—I need to tell her about buying her Popster’s house.
I get myself into a seated position in bed, propped up by some pillows, and I grab my phone to check email. Patrick lets me know that the Kauai house renovations are moving along well. There are still a few things left to do on the house, but he says it’s ready for me to stay there at any time.
But at this rate, I’m not sure when I’ll get to Hawaii. I no longer have plans to leave Michigan anytime soon.
A few minutes later, Aspen comes in carrying two mugs of coffee. She sips hers and grimaces.
“What’s wrong?”
“You don’t have any whipping cream here, so I have to drink it black. But it’s better than nothing.”
“I’ll tell the housekeeper to add cream to the shopping list from now on. I’ll also have her make a spare key for you.”
Aspen sets down her coffee and hands me mine as she slinks onto the bed, sitting across from me. I smile. She smiles back. Now is as good a time as ever. I set my coffee down and take her hand.
“Babe, I’ve never known happiness like this before. The only thing that’ll make my life better is when you finally agree to fucking marry me.”
“You’re lucky you’re injured,” she jabs, “because I’d push you right now. That is not a very romantic proposal. Besides, I’m not ready to get married. We’re not ready to get married.” But she bites her lip like she’s thinking about it.
“We’re totally getting married, and I’m totally romantic,” I counter, “because I told you we were getting married way back, weeks ago.” She giggles. “It doesn’t get more romantic than a man telling a woman he’s gonna marry her even before their first date.”
Her eyes glitter with amusement, and I know I’ve got her. She turns her head away, thinking.
But first… I have to tell her.
Here it goes.
“Aspen, I bought your Popster’s house.”
She whirls her head to me, eyes huge. “You what?” she whispers.
I charge on, matter-of-factly. There’s nothing wrong with what I did. “The money for your Popster’s house. I’m the person who bought it. That’s how he sold his house so quickly, and you got your money for down payment on The Rose.”
She gasps and her face goes white.
Uh-oh.
I’d better continue. “Aspen, I had to. You weren’t being open-minded. But back then, even your Popster knew it. I knew it. You needed an investor, and it was a way for me to help. I was already falling for you, and I wanted to do it, but you wouldn’t let me.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you…”
I cut her off. “Look, we’re happy, we’re together. Everything worked out.”
“You had no right!” She jumps off the bed like it has alligators on it, and she starts pacing the room, frantic. “I can’t believe you did this. You did it again! First with Jack and the inspection, and now this. Controlling! Going behind my back, when I specifically say NO! Doing things without my permission. You just barge into my life like you own me, like you have the right!” She sweeps her arms wide. “Ryker, I can’t… I can’t believe you!”
I want to jump out of bed and take her in my arms, but I can’t. I’m in too much pain. Shit.
She grasps for her clothes, throwing them onto her rigid body.
Then she stops what she’s doing and faces me, her shoulders squared. “And you had no fucking right to involve Popster! He doesn’t have a house now because his money is tied up in The Rose. And here I thought he had this idea on his own, and all along, it was YOU!”
I’ve got to calm her down. She’s about to storm out. I can’t let her leave. Shit. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. I feel panic tightening its grip in my chest.
“Aspen! Wait!” She turns around, and her eyes glow with hatred. “Where are you going?”
“Away from you! I never want to see you again! I can’t believe you. You lied to me. What else have you lied about? Wait, I don’t care!”
“Nothing, Aspen.” I say, my voice measured. “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you until now. You’re just being stubborn!” I yell. “You know I’m right!”
She huffs, and I continue, “And you’re one to talk! When are you going to tell him about the fire?”
She sharply inhales so much air, I think she’s going to burst. She grits her teeth and narrows her eyes at me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. She says in a deathly whisper, “You involved my Popster!”
And for all her anger, a flash of sadness ripples in her dark eyes. Then, her voice goes up an octave as she adds, “And now he doesn’t have a home! And I can’t get his money to him! Stay out of my life!”
She storms out of the room, and I hear her slam the front door. Fuck.
I grab my phone and open up the messaging app.
Me: Incoming.
Emerson: Shit. Really?
Me: Yeah, it’s done. She’s on her way. You might want to hide.
I fall back onto the bed.
“Ouch!”
31
Aspen
Nausea, anxiety, and frustration pull my gut in different positions. I’m seeing fucking red! I drive into the bistro parking lot, and I see both Popster’s and my mom’s cars here. I figured they’d sti
ll be here eating breakfast. I storm into the place, and Popster is in his booth. He sees me and holds his hands up in surrender.
“What the hell?” I slam my body into the booth across from him and screech, “Do you have something you would like to tell me?”
Mom hears me and comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel hanging off her back pocket. “Hi, honey. How are…” I hold up my hand to stop her and return my focus to Popster.
“Well?” I ask him.
I’ve never raised my voice with Popster. Mom steps closer to the edge of the table, alarmed at my tone. “What’s going on?”
I slide my eyes to her, “Did you know about this, too?”
She flinches. “What are you talking about?”
I look back at Popster, “You tell her.”
Mom gingerly slides into the booth next to Popster, and he slowly scoots over, giving her room. She looks at him. “What’s going on, Dad?”
His blue eyes twinkle at me, and he says, “Aspen, it’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal? Not a big deal? It’s a very big deal!” I respond.
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on here?” Mom yells.
Popster and I don’t say a word. We stare at each other.
“Go ahead, tell her,” I command.
He shrugs and looks at my mom. Then he glances back at me and says, “I might have sold my house to Ryker.”
“Oh fuck,” Mom replies. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a bunch of quarters. She puts them in the middle of the table and pushes them toward me. An offering.
“For starters, Popster, I can’t believe you did that behind my back.” My spine stiffens. “I can’t believe he got you involved in this!”
He tries his best to soothe the beast coming out of me, and says calmly, “I don’t see what the problem is with what we did. I know what your problem is though. Aspen, you’re too damn stubborn. But hey, I wanted to sell my house, and the idea to live at The Rose? It was brilliant.” He has the audacity to smile!
“I can’t believe he sold you on this cockamamie idea! Even worse, that you didn’t tell me!”
He looks confused. “Wait, Aspen. It wasn’t his idea.”
“What? Of course it was. He wanted to invest, and he found a way.”
My mom jumps in. “Dad, can you please just set the record straight. What the hell happened?”
“It was my idea, Aspen. He came in one time, eating right over there,” he says, pointing to the next booth over. “I overheard him offer you the money, and you, silly girl, turned it down. I also saw how you looked at him and smiled when he flirted with you.” He wags his finger at me, “And I know love when I see it. It reminds me of my parents. Think of me as your fairy godfather, waving a magic wand to help you two along, because clearly you needed help!”
“Popster,” I whisper.
He continues, “I’d been thinking about selling my house, anyway. Remember when I had it appraised? It wasn’t like it was some crazy new idea. The difference was, this time, I knew I was good to go. I wanted to live in the hotel. And Ryker jumped at the idea. Smart man.”
Popster winks.
I groan.
Mom sees my hands trembling, and she reaches across the table to hold them. “Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea,” she offers.
“It’s a horrible idea,” I spit. “It was deceitful, Popster. I made a choice, and you disrespected that.”
He leans forward. “I won’t apologize!” He pins his eyes to me. “I’m tired of wasting time, Aspen. I’m tired of you wasting time. I’m tired of you moping around, stubborn as a dry booger stuck way up in your nose!” He pauses and then adds, “So why are you really upset? Because, the last time I checked, you and Ryker had fallen for each other.”
I swallow his words, and they twist my heart. “You let me down, Popster.”
“No, Aspen. You let yourself down. It you hadn’t been so bullheaded and determined to do every damn thing by yourself, you’d have seen his initial offer as a blessing.”
I’m confused. My skin prickles and my legs are sweating. Dammit! Everything was so perfect, and now it’s crumbling around me.
My mom tries again to be a voice of reason, her tone gentler. “Aspen, all these years, you’ve been so adamant about becoming financially independent, before letting someone into your heart or letting someone help. And I understood.” Her eyes fill with tears. “You’re doing it because of how you were raised. Because of me. But, honey. You’re not me. I married the wrong men, for the wrong reasons. I didn’t really love them. Not the way you feel for Ryker. Baby, it’s apples and oranges.”
They’re ganging up on me. I turn my head away. I can’t look at either of them right now.
“Aspen,” Popster says, getting my attention. “What matters more to you? Your pride? Are you too stubborn to see that maybe you were the one who was wrong? You were just scared when he offered you that money. Scared about what it meant. You didn’t even take the time to think about whether it was the right thing to do. You just assumed that you’d end up like your mother—for whatever reason, I don’t know—but that’s not the case. It’s not what happened.”
I exhale, still angry because of the deceit, and my body is still tight. They’re right about one thing, though. If they had told me the idea, I’d never have gone for it.
But things did all work out in the end, I guess.
Still. Deceit.
I slide out of the booth and shoot Popster a glare, but there’s no malice in it, just a blank expression, tinged with confusion… because I have no idea where I go from here. I snatch the quarters off the table, and as I pass my swear jar, I yell, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
I throw the coins into the jar and storm out.
I drive home, and the first thing I do when I get inside is grab a bottle of wine and a package of cream cheese—my go-to comfort food. I don’t even bother with a spoon. I sit on the floor and lean back against the wall by Dagny’s cage while she munches on lettuce, none the wiser to what’s going on.
My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Ryker. My heart rate speeds up.
Ryker: I’m sorry, Aspen. Please come back.
Seeing his words of apology, I’m reminded of when he hurt me before, when his mom filled his head with lies about me. We can’t even go a month without something major happening. I’m better off alone. I tap my reply.
Me: Lose my number
And then I cry. I cry because I had fallen for him. I cry because we had something special. I cry because I’m confused. I cry because… maybe this was all my fault. I cry because I miss him, but I’m too scared to do anything about it.
I meander through the following days like I’m wearing gauze over my eyes. Nothing’s clear. Nothing’s easy. I try to ignore what Mom and Popster said, because it hurts too much. It’s not lost on me that I’ve withheld information from Popster about the cause of the fire, but it’s not hypocrisy. I’m keeping it a secret to protect him, not myself. So my brain buries that issue deep down.
I’m at the bistro Wednesday evening, making cherry pies for the next day, including the pie that Jessica will deliver with the quiche to Ryker’s office. I put the pies in the oven, and I clean up while I’m waiting for them to cook.
My phone notifies me that I have an email. I put down the rag and wipe my hands on my apron. It’s from Patrick. He’s emailing me to let me know he’s finished the website, and I’m reminded of how relieved I was to let Ryker help me with that. I gave him a hard time, of course, but I was grateful.
Then, I remember what it was like when Ryker held me and carried the burden during the fire, and also how I let him help me by loaning me money to get the contractors working. That was such a hard day, but not nearly as hard as it would have been without him
When Ryker and I made up at the Cherry Festival, things changed for me. I felt different, like I was growing. And before I found out about the shenanigans with Popster’s house, I was getti
ng comfortable with the idea of letting Ryker be a part of The Rose.
I finish cleaning up, and the buzzer dings. I pull the pies out of the oven and place them on the counter to cool. I sit on a stool. I spin around and around, thinking about Ryker. Getting dizzy.
I stop and look at the pies, and more memories of us come crashing into my heart.
I think about it again, and an idea rings true… I’m a different person now.
A tear trickles down my face, but warmth blossoms in my chest. My fingertips tingle. I’m different because of him. Because of us.
I lock up the bistro and send a group text to Mom and Popster.
Me: Hi. I think I was wrong.
Popster: About time. What are you going to do about it?
Me: I don’t know yet.
Mom: Call him, text him, go to his house, anything, honey.
Then, I have an idea.
I walk into the law office balancing the pie and quiche, and I take them to the kitchen. As I go to set them down, I see Ryker’s dad, getting a cup of coffee.
“Hello, Mr. Miles.” I say, and he looks up.
“Hi, Aspen, it’s good to see you. How are you?”
I know Ryker’s close with his dad, so I’m guessing he knows we broke up. I give him a small smile and say, “I’ve been better… you know.”
“I know,” he says and nods, with a kind and understanding smile.
I take a breath and smile, “But I wanted to see Ryker. Is he in his office?”
He frowns. “No, Aspen. I’m sorry, he went to his house in Kauai.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he was a bit of a mess, said he had to get out of here.” I swallow, and he adds, “I’m sorry.”
I drop my chin to my chest for a moment and stare at the floor. Then I look back at Mr. Miles. “OK. Well, thanks. Enjoy the food, and see you next week.”
