by Naomi Martin
Asher pulls to a stop in front of my house and kills the engine. There’s a light burning downstairs but it’s past ten, so I know my mom has already gone to bed. I look at Bonnie’s house and see her bedroom light still on. But then I remember that she’s pissed at me, so even if I did want to talk to her, she likely doesn’t want to talk to me. Which leaves me with Asher. He’s been great – way better than I would have ever imagined from him – but I can also see that he’s a bit hesitant, likely because Owen is his best friend. And I can’t really fault him for that. I’ve probably involved him too much already.
“I really appreciate everything you did for me tonight,” I tell him. “For the ride and most of all for listening to me ramble.”
“You weren’t rambling,” he insisted. “I totally get it. And I meant it when I said you deserved better than the bullshit Owen served you.”
“Thanks, Asher.”
We sit in silence for a moment, and I know I should get out of his truck and go into the house where I can cry myself to sleep with some privacy and a little dignity, but I hesitate. As Asher and I look at each other, the darkness and rage build inside of me once more. I’m overwhelmed by the urge to slap and punch and kick Owen until I’m exhausted from the effort.
“You gonna be okay?” Asher asks.
I want to hurt Owen every bit as deeply as he hurt me. No, scratch that. I want to hurt him even more deeply than he hurt me. I don’t play tit-for-tat games. I play for blood. Punch me in the arm, I’ll punch you in the nose. That’s just the way I’ve always been.
And those are the thoughts firing through my brain when I lean over and press my mouth to Asher’s. He’s surprised and pulls back, his eyes wide but a small smirk playing upon his lips. It’s as if he’s reading my thoughts again. Though, truthfully, you probably don’t need to be a psychic to figure out what I’m doing.
“We probably shouldn’t do this, Winter,” he warns.
“Shut up.”
Our mouths crash together again, our teeth clicking as our tongues find each other. His resistance to my advances was token at best. He wants this every bit as much as I do – probably just for different reasons.
I grip his hair, tugging on it hard as our tongues swirl together in his mouth. Reaching down, I grab his cock through his jeans. His moan is muffled by my mouth as I rub and stroke him, getting him harder in my hand. He pulls back again and looks me in the eye.
“Winter, wait, are you sure–”
“I said, shut up,” I growl. “This isn’t the time for you to be getting all noble on me. Especially because I know you’re not really all that noble to begin with.”
He shrugs, and a roguish smile spreads across his lips. “Well, when you put it that way…”
Asher unbuttons his jeans and I reach in to pull his cock out. I grip it hard and he draws in a sharp breath. As I stroke him, I feel him growing beneath my touch. Leaning down, I take him into my mouth without preamble. I bob my head up and down, sucking his cock like I have something to prove. He entwines his fingers in my hair, gently tugging at it. But when he starts to push my head down, I slap his hands away, disabusing him of the notion that he’s in control here.
“God, that’s good,” he moans as I blow him. “That’s fucking amazing.”
I want Owen to hurt. I want him to hurt every bit as badly as I do right now. I know it’s probably too much to hope that he’ll feel the pain with the vibrancy that’s coursing through my veins right now. But I hope when he finds out I fucked his best friend – because I have zero faith that Asher will keep his mouth shut about this – he’ll feel a fraction of the hurt he’s caused me.
When I have Asher good and hard, I sit up and look at his cock, glistening with my saliva in the dim street lighting. He’s not nearly as large as Owen but he’s still got a nice, thick staff that will bring me some small bit of pleasure in this shitstorm of a night.
I move across the bench seat of his truck, then slide my skirt up to my waist and straddle him. Grinding my hips, I rub myself against his hard length as I press my mouth to his and force my tongue past his lips. He grabs hold of my ass and tries to pull me down onto him, but I pull back and give him a firm slap across the cheek. He looks at me, wide-eyed, before a slow, salacious grin spreads across his face.
“You’re not in charge here,” I remind him.
“Do with me as you will.”
A small smile touches my lips. “Oh, I plan on it.”
Our mouths crash together again and Asher’s hands finds my breasts. He squeezes and kneads them through the thin fabric of the dress I borrowed from Olivia. As he circles my stiff nipple with his thumb, he pulls the strap off my other shoulder and tugs the dress down, exposing my other breast. His mouth is on it an instant, licking and sucking on my nipple, sending white hot bolt of pleasure shooting through me.
As he continues to pleasure my nipples with his fingers and mouth, I continue rubbing my swollen bud against his cock. The thin, silky fabric of my panties is soaked through, but I keep grinding myself against his hard rod. Gripping his shoulders tight, I close my eyes as Asher continues to work my nipples over. I let out a soft yelp of surprise that fades to a moan of pleasure when he gives one of them a firm nibble.
Reaching down between my legs, I pull my panties to the side and raise my hips. Then I grip his cock firmly, looking into his eyes and biting my bottom lip as I squeeze it hard. He gasps, but groans with pleasure. I see the light of lust burning bright in his face as I lower myself, slipping the head of his cock between my velvety folds. I dig my nails into his shoulders again as I move, sliding myself down on his rigid length.
Pleasure rockets through my body when I have him fully sheathed within my warm, wet depths. I kiss him hard as I start to roll my hips, rising up and down on top of him. I feel Asher’s hands on my ass as his mouth finds my breasts once more. I start moving faster, thrusting myself down harder onto his cock, setting off explosions of pleasure deep within me. Asher’s fingers press into the flesh of my ass and he gives me a firm slap.
I lean back, still grinding myself on him, and slap him across the face again. He doesn’t even bother with the look of surprise this time, he just moans my name. I grab his hair and yank his head back, kissing and biting his neck as I ride him.
“Fuck me, Winter,” he gasps. “Fuck yes.”
That earns him another slap. “I said, shut up.”
Moving harder and faster, I rise and fall, impaling myself on his cock again and again. Asher finds my hips and grips me tightly as I pound myself down on him, and the sound of our bodies slapping together mingles with our moans, filling the cabin of the truck with an erotic music.
Although the physical sensations are amazing and fill me with pleasure, it can’t match the ecstasy I felt being with Owen – somebody I thought I cared about. This is more mechanical and less passionate. This is simply fucking, not making love as Owen and I did.
Except this time, I’m fucking with a purpose in mind. And as I think about that purpose, I grit my teeth and start riding Asher harder. Faster. I dig my nails into his shoulders and bite his neck, making sure to leave a mark. I feel his body tensing beneath me and hear his voice growing ragged, breathy, and I know he’s close.
I grab his hand and guide it down between my thighs. I make him rub my clit as I fuck him – I’m not doing all of this to not get off myself. Asher does so eagerly, though, teasing and rubbing my button, sending shockwaves of pleasure rolling through me. I kiss him as hard as I’m fucking him, stealing his breath from his lungs.
And when I feel his cock throbbing inside of me, I squeeze my muscles, gripping him tighter. He grasps my ass hard as his staff starts to pulse and before he can cry out, I press my mouth to his, swallowing his moans as he erupts inside of me. Feeling his warm seed spurting inside of me pushes me over the edge and my entire body shakes as I come with him.
We cling to one another, riding out the waves of our orgasms together. I press my forehead to his as
our breathing slows and the last shudders of our mutual pleasure pass through us. The cabin of his truck is quieter than a church and smells thickly of our sex. When his eyes find mine, he holds my gaze, a slow smile spreading across his face. Then he leans forward and plants a soft, gentle kiss on my lips.
The moment is starting to feel too warm and too intimate, so I slide off his lap and feel his deflated cock slip out of me along with a warm, wet gush of fluid. When I get onto the passenger side of the seat, I reach beneath my skirt to straighten my panties. I’m met with a lot of moisture and the sticky remnants of our time together. I take a tissue out of the pack he’d given me earlier and clean up what I can. I’m going to need a shower when I get inside, though, for sure.
He looks over at me and grins. “I suppose it’s too much to hope for a repeat performance again sometime soon?”
I shrug. “Maybe. I’ll give it some thought.”
“Come on – who else is going to let you slap them around while you fuck them like that?”
“More people like it than you know,” I inform him with a smile. “This was great, though. I needed that. Thank you, Asher – for everything tonight.”
“Anytime,” he replies. “And I do mean anytime.”
I laugh as I open the door to the truck and climb out as gracefully as possible – which, in a skirt this short, isn’t all that graceful. But I manage, and I close the door behind me. He starts the engine and drives off as I walk up the steps to the porch and let myself inside.
Chapter Fourteen
“Still not feeling well, huh?”
I’m in bed with the blankets pulled up to my chin when my mom steps into the room. She walks over to the side of my bed, looking down at me with a sympathetic expression on her face.
“Not really,” I lie.
She purses her lips. “Well, if you wake up tomorrow still feeling this way, I’m going to have to take you to the doctor,” she warns. “You’ll need a note to get back into school, you know.”
I get the feeling she knows I’m not really sick and am simply dodging a bad situation I don’t want to deal with. But she seems willing to let me work this out on my own and deal with it in my own way, in my own time. And I appreciate her indulgence, more than she even knows.
It’s been a couple of days since the debacle out at Blackjacks and I haven’t been to school since. I can’t face Owen or Olivia just yet. And I especially can’t face Asher. I still can’t believe I fucked him. Even if it was only out of spite.
“Hopefully I’ll feel better tomorrow,” I tell her.
“I hope so, too.”
She leans down and kisses me on the forehead, then offers me a small smile. I reach out and take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Okay, kiddo, I’m off to work,” she announces. “I’ll pick something up for dinner on the way home. Just give me a call if you want something special.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She leaves my room and a couple of minutes later, the front door closes as she heads out for the day. I groan as I pull the covers over my head, shutting the world out, and go back to sleep for a while. I’m hoping all the great philosophers are wrong and you actually can ignore all of your problems and have them just go away.
The obnoxiously repeated ringing of the doorbell pulls me out of sleep, and I sit up blearily. I rub my eyes and grab my phone and groan to myself as soon I look at the screen. I’ve been asleep for half the day. Ignoring all of the missed calls and text messages like I have for the last couple of days, I stand up as the doorbell rings again and is followed by somebody pounding on it. Thinking that maybe my mom accidentally locked herself out, I pull myself together, bound down the stairs, and open the door.
“It’s about time.” Olivia beams at me from my front porch. “Do you know how long I’ve been out here?”
“Couldn’t tell you.”
She purses her lips and pushes her way past me, walking into the house. I close the door behind her with a sigh.
“Sure, come on in,” I mutter.
“Well, since you weren’t returning my calls or texts, I had to take drastic action,” she explains. “This whole icky thing happening between us just cannot stand any longer. I’ve decided.”
“Oh, you have, huh?”
She nods and walks away from me. “Indeed, I have.”
I follow her into the kitchen to find her rooting around in the refrigerator. She comes out with a sparkling water and twists the top off. After sitting down at the center island, she takes a long drink, as if the effort of ringing the doorbell and getting me out of bed left her parched.
“So, where have you been?” she asks.
I look around pointedly. “Do you really need an answer to that?”
She sighs dramatically. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened at Blackjacks. I didn’t mean to pressure you–”
“Yes, you did,” I cut her off. “You tried to guilt me into sleeping with your boyfriend.”
A small frown pulls her lips down. “And I’m sorry for that, Winter. I really am,” she says. “I just – Donovan just does something to me that makes me want to make him happy. In all ways. It makes me do some stupid, crazy things. I just don’t seem able to think straight when I’m around him.”
The look in her eye is that of a lost little girl, and that familiar pity I felt for her wells up within me again. I know she thinks that pleasing him and giving into his every whim and want is going to make him leave his wife for her. I know she’s doing everything she can to make him happy – and to make him choose her over his wife. I feel bad for her, but nowhere near bad enough to be part of their sexual escapades.
“Please forgive me, Winter,” she continues. “I can promise you that is never going to happen again. Ever. Cross my heart.”
“How can you be so sure? How can you say with certainty that if he asks you to squeeze me into a threesome with him, you won’t give in and try to pressure me again?”
She clasps the bottle with both hands and looks down at it for a moment. I can see her struggling to come up with the words, but I can also see the doubts in her mind that, if push comes to shove, she’ll be able to hold up her end of that promise.
“I just – I told him you’re not like that,” she explains. “I told him that I don’t want to be put into that sort of a position again because you’re my friend and I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“The question then is, will he listen?” I press. “And if he doesn’t, will you be willing to stand up to him?”
She chews on her bottom lip and looks away from me. I can tell she wants to do right by me – at least, I think she does. Given the way my judgment’s been running lately, I can’t really trust myself to know anything these days, it seems. But she looks contrite and she looks like she feels badly about how things went down the other night, and that will just have to be enough for now.
“I guess the simple solution to the problem is that I just don’t go back to Blackjacks,” I offer.
She shakes her head. “No way,” Olivia argues. “We have a great time there, don’t we? I mean, we’re free to do whatever we want there with no rules. It’s fun, right?”
I can’t disagree with her. It is fun. And I do usually have a good time with her there. It’s fun to play grown-up for a night. I mean, I’m not really into most of the stuff there, anymore. I’m really trying to be better. But it’s kind of fun knowing it’s there and it’s available, with nobody judging me for it should I decide to partake. It’s like a playground for adults – that’s open to us, too.
“Just – trust me to keep Donovan in check,” she promises. “And know that he will never, ever force you to do something you want. He’s not like that, Winter.”
No, he’s just a creep who pervs on much younger women and then strings them along with promises to leave his wife for them. Granted, on the cosmic scale of horrible men, he’s not any worse than most – most guys lie their asses of
f when they want to get laid – but it’s still pretty douchey.
I give her a small smile. “Okay.”
“So… you forgive me?”
“Of course.”
“Good,” she says, and she sounds relieved. “Now, what is this I’m hearing about you fucking Asher?”
I pull on the ends of my hair as I walk to the refrigerator. I pull out a soda and pop the top, then take a long swallow just to put off answering the question. This is one I’m not going to be able to avoid just by pulling the covers over my head, unfortunately. I walk back to the center island and drop down into the chair next to her, burying my face in my hands as my cheeks flare with heat.
“Let’s put that in the ‘it seemed like a good idea at the time’ category,” I finally admit.
“Oh my God, it’s true?”
Leaving my face buried in my hands, I just give her a nod.
“You total turboslut!” She squeals with laughter. “I cannot believe you slept with Owen’s best friend!”
I finally look up at her as the pain I felt that night in Blackjacks flares back to life. I try to keep myself under control. I’m not going to cry anymore – I’ve wasted enough tears on Owen Maddox and all I have left for him is a cold, burning rage.
“You do know what he did, right?” I snap.
“I know what you think he did,” she counters.
“What are you talking about?”
She takes my hand in hers and squeezes it tight, a wan smile on her face. “He wasn’t sleeping with that girl,” she tells me. “He doesn’t have a side piece.”
I shake my head and think back to that night, picturing it all with the clarity of a high-def television – which only serves to make that pain inside of me flare even brighter.
“No, that’s not right,” I argue. “I saw him with that blonde. I saw him coming out of your room.”
Olivia looks down, a sheepish look on her face. “It’s not what you think,” she says softly. “It’s – Well… it’s really not what you think. Trust me, Winter.”
