by Melissa Blue
She knew what he'd wanted, but asked anyway, “Vic?”
“No. Fuck.” He pushed her leg up, rolling his hips. “Say it again.”
She really needed to stop teasing him when they had sex. He always paid her back in full and always within seconds. “Victor.” She moaned, giving him what he needed.
His next thrust was harder, not just stealing her breath, but her thoughts. “Stop moving.” He lifted her leg higher. “Again.”
Her world was tilting. “Not until you pay me back what you owe me.”
Victor's chuckle was filled a naughty promise. “A ten-second wait. Okay. Don't fucking move.”
Five seconds, and she screamed his name, not caring that she was still losing any and all cool points whenever they were in bed. She was slicked with sweat but her body was on fire. She tugged his hair as he pressed deeper into her—shallow thrusts that blinded her. He felt so good stroking inside her.
And then he was kissing her again—groaning, begging her in between each stroke to just keep saying his name. His nails bit into her thighs. Something thicker than sweat slid down her leg, but she was climaxing again and didn't care what the liquid was. Squeezing tightly around him. Wet and probably swollen because he’d taken her twice in one day. She crashed hard into the orgasm.
He pushed into her so deep she couldn't catch her breath, and then they were both trembling, panting for air. He'd come too. Her pussy quaked again, satisfied by that fact. When he nipped at her chin, she shivered then he chuckled, sounding satisfied.
Feeling returned seconds later, and her neglected thigh sent out a light throb of pain. “Did you scratch me?” she croaked, her throat dry.
Victor lifted his head then glanced down. “Shit. Broke the skin. Does it hurt?”
“A little. Stop fussing.”
He went quiet, and she hated that. The walls were coming back up and soon she wouldn't be able to get in.
She cupped his face and forced him to meet her gaze. “Okay. If you're actually hurting me, I'll say ‘spirit of Zamunda.’ Deal?”
Victor smiled broadly enough for it reached his eyes. “You know, that's not what they actually say when they exorcise demons on Supernatural?”
She was getting dizzy again from his smile. “True, but I should get brownie points for a Coming to America joke after sex. Also, Team Missionary should be a thing.”
His smile widened even more as he shook his head.
She was falling again and she wasn't sure she'd ever stop.
*****
Mullet rock jolted Ash from a deep sleep. Took her a few seconds to recognize the song, in spite of how familiar the 1970s tune was to her.
She turned her head to see Vic sitting upright with half a million of her pink pillows at his back. She'd slept on the other half a million.
One brow lifted, but he didn't let his gaze slide to her. He'd propped his phone on his lap with a pillow. She didn't have to glance at the clock to know it was the middle of the night. Sleep tugged at her, trying to coax her back into slumber.
She said, “You're either listening to a Kansas album or watching a season finale of Supernatural.”
“Season Four. Sam's an idiot.”
She'd thought the same, just a little more vehemently. “Wait for five. It gets better.”
He shifted to look at her. “What? I thought you had only—”
“I binged for the last few days. I’m at the end of Season Five.”
Such a normal conversation to have in the middle of the night. Then again, he probably hadn't been to sleep. He still had all his p's and q's in place to pick up where they'd left off four hours ago.
She reached over to run her fingertips over the stubble growing along his jaw. “Put the phone down.”
He looked at her, his face hard. “I'm not tired.”
Vic didn't trust himself to go to sleep. Fine. She'd meet him well past the halfway point. She scooted over until most of her body covered his. She threw an arm over his chest and buried her cheek into one of his hard pecs. Both of her legs tangled around his left calf, forcing him to shift farther down the bed. He laughed at her impression of an octopus.
Despite everything, she was comfortable, and judging by the way he’d relaxed, so was he. Vic adjusted his phone so they could both watch the small screen.
Still, she felt the need to say, “If you don't sleep, I won't sleep.”
“You're protesting.” His smile was evident in his tone as he punched the phone’s volume up.
Probably a bad idea to make a statement when naked and plastered against someone. His body heat when mixed with hers had already created a petri dish of sweat against her cheek and everywhere else their bodies touched.
“I'm just cuddling,” she lied, lamely.
He chuckled. “You're going to regret your stand in the morning.”
But what did it say about him that he didn't try to extricate himself? Good things. Lots and lots of good things.
“I might, but I doubt it.” She snuggled into him.
Her sleeping peacefully while he spent the rest of the night worrying that he could hurt her didn’t seem fair. Or...probably going over and over in his mind how he could have saved his friendship with her brother.
She had the privilege of knowing without a doubt that if she called Porter in the morning and told him she needed him, he'd go to her. Oh, he'd give her shit until he forgave her, but he was her brother. He’d show up.
Ash frowned as the situation fractured in her mind like a broken mirror. The Goon Squad would take Porter's lead because he rarely made a stand. Not because he was meek or anywhere in the vicinity of quiet. He chose his battles with a ruthless precision. She and her brother shared that quality.
Even if all that thinking didn't keep Vic awake, like some demented cherry on top of the rest of his anxiety, there were his six years of military service to draw on. Vic had a lot of reasons to avoid sleep.
She only had one reason to get him to close his eyes. She wanted to sleep with him in the most basic way. Ash wanted, and she had no qualms about taking.
Ash wanted, and that was that.
Tension rode up her spine.
You're selfish.
“What?” he asked, as if sensing her unease.
She grabbed his phone and changed the TV show to a cozy British mystery she tended to cue up when insomnia hit. He didn't complain, probably more curious about her choice than anything else.
Thirty minutes later, his chest rose and fell in a deep, soft rhythm. At the end of the episode, when she was sure he was actually asleep, Ash closed her eyes. Took her a while, because you're selfish kept echoing in her head.
CHAPTER TEN
~Gamer Truth: If the bush is glittering, it is probably loot.~
“You're having a friend fix my car at a discount,” Ash announced before getting out of Victor’s car. “I'm paying for the coffee,”
Since Victor's mood was amiable, he didn't argue…though he would be paying.
He followed a few feet after her into Brew and Bagel because he couldn't take his eyes off her ass. He trailed behind her to keep watching it like the pervert he was. She'd dressed professionally, as always, but her snug skirt had a built-in slit. Every step flashed a glimpse of a thigh, and also made her ass do a little bounce. He was mesmerized.
By the time he caught up, and pulled his gaze up, she was at the counter. The shop had only a few stragglers, which was surprising given the early hour near the college campus.
“Good morning”—Ash glanced at the barista’s nametag— “Lizzie. I'd like a large coffee. Hazelnut blend. Also, another large, mocha with lots of whipped cream and chocolate syrup.”
That gave him pause. “What did you just order for me?”
She glanced back at him. “What you gave me yesterday could kill anthrax.”
“I like it.”
“Maybe but I'll bet money you'll like hazelnut better.” She handed the blond girl some money with a smile.
Victor reached into his wallet and then stuffed a ten into Ash's purse.
Lizzie—the poor girl—watched their interplay with a deer-in-headlights expression for a moment before responding, “I'll bring the regular black coffee, Mr. Yang.”
But Victor grew suspicious when Lizzie grinned at Ash, and Ash returned the big smile.
She faced him with a false expression of innocence. “You're chipper this morning.”
He'd gotten some sleep—good sleep. When he'd opened his eyes at six a.m., Victor had known exactly where he was. The scent of sex mixed with peaches in the air had made that easy. Ash had curled into him more, his phone clutched in her hand. She was warm and soft—his anchor.
Much more than he deserved. No matter how good he felt being with her, Victor knew the experience was stolen. Standing in line with her for coffee and waking up next to her…it was all just a twist of fate. Hell, he'd spent most of his life wanting her, and then hating himself for wanting her.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Just to twist the knife a bit deeper, he'd had to watch her with someone else whenever a man did more than whet her appetite. Now he knew making her laugh and watching the way her happiness transformed her face was like lifting his own up to the sun. He was soaking her in, basking in the light of her. Fate had fucked up, no doubt about it.
Did the loss of his friendship with Porter hurt like a son of a bitch? Fuck yeah. Would losing the rest of the Goon Squad hurt just as much. Hell yes. The guilt of his choice—his actions—buzzed in the background of every second he spent with her. Yet he couldn't regret a single moment.
“Come here,” he said, his throat tight.
She stepped into him, throwing her arms around his shoulders without prompting. “You're looking like you want to kiss me.”
“Yeah,” he murmured.
The first kiss was soft, a teasing of lips. The second was longer, deeper. The third was probably going to get them kicked out. It had tongue, and she moaned, practically melting against him. She was flushed when he lifted his head.
He smirked. “I—”
“Victor?”
Ice-cold fingers closed around his heart. He gripped Ash's waist. The implosion he’d anticipated was evidently going to happen sooner rather than later. He pivoted to look into Grady's shocked face. Eva stood beside Grady, her brows way, way up.
Instinct forced Victor to push Ash behind him as though he had to protect her.
Grady sputtered for a second. “What the fu—” He pushed out a harsh breath. “Can we talk outside?”
Vic’s stomach dropped somewhere around his feet. “Sure.”
Eva waved at him lamely and then lurched straight for Ash. He knew that we're-going-to-gossip expression, and didn't tense. The fact Ash wasn't in danger left him with no reason to stay.
Outside, Grady paced on the sidewalk, running a hand through his hair.
Victor crossed his arms. “From your reaction, I'm guessing Porter didn't tell you.”
“Porter knows?” Grady waved his hands as though to say that shit didn't matter. “What the fuck are you doing? Ashley? Ashley?”
How many times had he thought the same after their first time together? Too many. “It's done, Grady.”
“What's done?” His friend's voice came out hard. “You don't fuck your friend's sister then shrug it off. And when did you even start looking at her that way?”
The muscles in Victor’s back bunched as the question hit him. “When did I start looking at Ash? Hmmm. I don't know. Probably at age fifteen or sixteen. She was wearing shorts and a crop top. I almost passed out at how fast the blood rushed from my head.”
Grady's face twisted in disgust. Not that surprising. The man saw Ashley as his little sis. “Something is fucking wrong with you.”
That stung like a bitch. “So you think I'm with her just to get my rocks off?” Victor’s voice came out low and sharp, unspent anger building in his chest. “That I'd throw away my friendships for a nut?”
At that, Grady stilled and then tilted his head. He huffed out a breath, surprise clear on his face. “You're in love with her.”
Not a question, so no need to confirm or deny. Not with Grady. He'd would see the truth and arrive at reason. He'd still be pissed on Porter's behalf, but Grady would understand.
Victor shoved his hands into his pockets. The defensive stance wouldn't change the outcome or the tone of the conversation. “It's done, Grady. Look, I'm sorry. I really am—for not telling you. I mean, I never wanted this shitstorm, but it happened anyway.”
Grady's jaw worked. “Say it.”
His stomach clenched. “What?”
“You damn well know what.”
Saying the words out loud mattered, but if he ever did, he'd only say them to one person. She wasn't outside at the moment.
When no answer, Grady stomped forward and pushed him in the chest hard enough that Victor had to step back to keep his balance.
“Say it. Or I'll know you're a chickenshit.”
Victor knew Grady was baiting him. It was obvious. “Fuck off, Grady.”
“You don't get to be mad at me. You,” Grady poked him in the chest, “fucked Porter's sister. Then again, since it's nothing...”
The words rose in his throat and almost strangled him. Victor swallowed and pushed out, “Yes, uh—I care for her. Deeply.”
He glared at his friend, who grinned. Maybe if it had been Oliver asking—prodding—Victor’s scalp wouldn't have felt so tight. His stomach definitely wouldn't have been rolling around. “I hope your dick falls off,” he added.
That only made Grady laugh. “No wonder you were angry all the damn time. Fifteen years of drooling over someone you could never touch. Damn.” He shook his head. “Still Porter's never going to speak to you again. Or Wade.”
He tensed again. “Wade...said something about her?”
Grady looked up to heaven as though asking for patience. “She's probably the only person he's not a dick to, but because of Porter...” He sighed. “I should punch you so hard right now.”
Should. Something like hope sparked in Victor’s chest. He hadn't thought he'd have any friends after all was said and done. He'd have Ash and that would have to be enough. “But you're not?”
Eva exited Brew and Bagel, smiling as she held the door open. She could have passed for the girl next door if not for the darkness in her gaze.
Grady's stance changed from rigid to relaxed, and then a stupid grin spread across his face. “I know what you're feeling.” He slapped him on the shoulder.
If Victor were the hugging type, he would have dragged Grady into an embrace. But he wasn't, so he punched his friend in the shoulder. “Hey, this stays between us.”
“More secrets? You think you'd learn by now, but, yeah. I won't tell Ashley.”
Ash came out next, carrying a cupholder with two coffees and three muffins. She picked up a cup and handed it to him. “Try it.”
He lifted the top, sniffed, and set the coffee back in the holder. “Large. Regular and black. That's what I like. Whatever this is smells like sugar in a fucking cup.”
“I like to think I'm more curvy and spectacular rather than regular. Still black, though.”
Victor snorted because he'd totally given her the best setup without meaning to.
Eva kissed Grady on the cheek. “I'm sorry, hon. I think I'm in love with her.”
Grady muttered something that sounded like “Going around.”
Ash sighed and shoved the cup at Victor. “One sip. If you hate it, I'll get you the octane you like.”
Somewhat appeased by the deal, he took a tentative taste and didn't gag, so he took a longer one. “Is there sugar in this?”
“Nope.”
“Milk?”
“Nope. Just coffee.”
“I guess it's okay,” he grumbled before taking a long sip.
She tried not to preen, but modesty wasn't Ash's strong suit. “Hey, Grady. Did you two fight and make up alr
eady?”
“Somewhat,” Grady said.
She shook her head. “Boys and their bromances. Anyway, good seeing you, but we have to head to work. Eva, don't forget, we're meeting up on Friday. You're going to love Iris.”
Right there was why he’d risked everything. She was Ash. Depending on her mood, she could be sunshine or barbed wire. How could he not be drawn to her? But when Porter had asked if Victor was it for her, she hadn't answered. She still viewed what they were doing as just sex. That gnawed at him, but then again, keeping things casual could be for the best. He wasn't cured. He could still hurt her. If he weren't so fucking selfish, he'd push her away. But he was.
“Later,” Victor said to Eva and Grady.
His friend frowned. “Drop by anytime.”
Probably not the best idea. Grady had chosen sides. The rest of his friends would do the same. He'd never wanted that, and definitely wouldn't make things worse by showing up at Grady's.
“Sure,” he lied.
Once they were in the car, Ash said to him, “Porter won't stay mad at you forever. He can't. I won't let him.”
He gripped the steering wheel. “That's between me and him.”
She pushed. “Vic—”
“Drop it, Ash,” and he made sure to say the words in a tone that left no room for argument.
She clamped her mouth shut, her eyes narrowed. He knew that wouldn't be the end of it. For now though the argument was over. He'd take it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
~Gamer Truth: RageQuit: It's What's For Dinner. ~
Ash believed there was such a thing as beautiful chaos. A week later, she was standing in the middle of it. Children screamed, laughed, and practically jumped out of their skin from pure joy. Likely hopped up on sugar, and why not? The carnival on the pier was the perfect excuse to have fun and be loud.
Some parents joined in on the fun, some wore their is-this-day-over-yet expressions.
Teens mingled in groups. The ones who would peak at twenty-one looked bored, too cool for fun. The others still ran from ride to ride, the bigger the better. She hoped they never lost that energy.
