I hated him. Wanted him gone. I kept thinking I should call Sienna and beg her to make up a reason to drag him back to Vegas. She was the only person who rated higher in his eyes than me, but I really had no desire to drag her into my current situation.
The truth was I still held on to hope that Asher would give up and go home, that the whole Tunnel gang didn’t know about the nasty three-way we’d participated in, and the worst part, that Asher had fathered a child during it. So I put on blinders and kept plugging ahead with my new life. It was easier than confronting the mess my existence had become.
It was a joke, I knew it, but sticking my head in the sand was the only way to preserve any self-pride.
Here it was Thursday, my day off once again, and Lynx was being absolutely belligerent to me about taking a few hours for myself. She planned on taking Quinn to some park with a water spray thing, and they were all gung-ho. Deviously, she’d gotten Quinn in on the act, having him give me a gift card for a massage because she knew I couldn’t say no to my boy.
Which was why I was reluctantly sitting in a eucalyptus steam room after a massage at one of Miami’s hottest day spas, wet steam camouflaging the tears running down my face. I spent the whole massage remembering what I’d spent the last decade trying to forget. As a result I felt ripped open, raw, and exposed, angry that Lynx had spent her hard-earned money on me, upset at such a waste of money, but even more distraught over the memories I had kept buried for longer than I cared to remember.
Thank God I was the only one in the steam room. My face was puffy, salty tears burning their way into my open pores, sweat dripping down my cleavage. I leaned back against the hotter-than-hell tiles, tilted my head back, and closed my eyes, the faint scents of pine and eucalyptus transporting me to a more sensual place.
My heart beat to its own rhythm, fast and furious, pulsing as it took in the snapshots of what had happened that night. The evening I thought I would finally snag the man of my dreams, but instead conceived the boy I never imagined having.
I tried so hard not to remember that long-ago night, but when I did, the memories were crisp and clear, as if it had happened yesterday…
THE LATE hours of the evening had bled into the early hours of the morning, the sky not quite black anymore, a tiny sliver of gray appearing as dawn approached. We’d been at it for hours, partying, celebrating my birthday and my enrolling in community college. We’d been drinking, dancing, high-fiving, sniffing blow—well, Asher and a few others had, but not me. My friends were notorious for raging. To all of us, partying was a way of life, one we’d always known.
We were the kids of the real Las Vegas, the one that pumped and thrived three hundred sixty-five days and nights a year, the city that awoke when the lights dimmed on the fake tourist version. We grew up behind the scenes, watching our parents host parties, bounce at clubs, or deal cards, then party with their friends when their night or day shift had ended. They’d throw us all together with one parent to babysit, whoever had drawn the short straw, then would party all night long.
Our generation was the first to witness the burst in growth on the Strip, the overdone, ostentatious hotels fueled by unbelievable wealth, and we liked it too much. There were better jobs for the taking, and we’d done just that, loving the tips, accepting the perks, learning of better booze, high-end drugs, and top-of-the-line pussy for the men. We couldn’t shake our partying ways if we wanted to, and we had no intention of letting go of the lifestyle.
That was exactly what we were doing when I decided it was my time to finally get Asher. Even if I had to share him with Shayla this once, it would be a step in the direction of making the man totally mine. Asher had been all I ever wanted. Ever. And I’d grown sick of my flirting not working.
People were seriously lit up on the coke that night. It was the good stuff, probably laced with something else like synthetic Ecstasy, judging by the sexual heat filling the room. That was one of the fringe benefits of the bigger and better Strip. X. My friends fell in love with that shit right away, and judging by how good everyone was feeling, I couldn’t blame them.
I preferred pot; that was it for me when it came to the illicit stuff. But this dose of X and coke was obviously some kind of crazy high because people were flying, half of them taking their clothes off, their eyes sparkling with something I’d never seen before.
When I slipped next to Asher on the dance floor, he wrapped his big arms around me and started moving to the beat. A rush of heat went straight to my belly with a direct line to a little farther down, all from this little bit of drug-induced affection. Wanting Asher had become a religion to me, and I was seriously devout.
I’d been drinking pretty steadily, and downed the last of my cocktail so I could wind my arms around the man of my dreams. Asher moved pretty quickly to grinding up on me. I wasn’t a virgin—I’d spent the better part of the prior two years trying to educate myself for the man whose erection was rubbing against me as we burned up the small dance space. We didn’t say much, only moved like lovers well acquainted with each other.
When Asher finally spoke, his words were heated. “Little doll, you got it going on tonight. Christ, can’t take my eyes off you. Where you been hiding all those goods?”
I looked down at myself, taking in what he saw. A gold halter, skintight jeans, and platform heels. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at the tiny compliment.
In the far corners of my mind, I knew it was the drugs talking; I wasn’t really winning the prize I so desperately wanted. But I’d loved Asher from afar for so many years, I wasn’t able to make myself care.
It was ridiculous to care for him as much as I did because he was seriously flawed, troubled, desperate for attention from women as long as I’d known him, but I was unable to stop myself. I knew the boy inside the shell of a man moving his fiery gaze and steamy body against mine, and I wanted to save him, fix it all, make it better.
Taking a moment to form a response, I finally said, “I’ve been here all the time, Ash. Watching and wanting from the other side of the room for all these years.” The alcohol had clearly dulled my inhibitions, or maybe it was simply watching all the horny people in the room.
So when the man of my dreams started to lead me to the back with Shayla in tow, I went. Willingly.
The night wasn’t the loving culmination I’d dreamed of in my head, but rather a scene out of a raunchy porno movie. The only saving grace of the time back in the bedroom was that Asher relegated Shayla to “oral only.” She sucked and licked him while he kissed me. Then he used his hand to get her off fast before he told her to stick her nipples in his face while he screwed me doggy style.
It wasn’t making love. That would have been impossible; I was wise enough to know Asher was too emotionally messed up for that. We’d been good friends forever—our whole lives—and we were nothing more than two buddies who screwed to get our rocks off that evening.
At least, Asher did.
As he pounded into me from behind, chasing his release, he moved his hand around to my clit, stroking it perfectly. The best I’d ever had, but I couldn’t get off because the moment was so absolutely dirtied by Shayla’s boobs in his mouth. How dumb I’d been to think I could change the man ramming into me. So I played along, tinkering on the verge of orgasm, thinking I liked it rough, but this whole scene had been royally fucked up from the beginning.
There was also the little fact that we didn’t use protection. When Asher first plunged into me bareback, the realization of just how far gone he was hit me. Years of emotions burst like a hemorrhage in my brain; this wasn’t at all what I had wanted. My feelings crashed through my heart, causing a big gaping hole as they seeped out through my body, consuming me with regret. All hope bled out of me like a deflating balloon. This meant nothing to Asher, and I was nothing more than a silly, love-sick fool who had asked for it.
When I turned around to look into his stunning silver eyes, I found them mostly black, his pupils huge from the dr
ugs. As sweat ran off his face and dripped on my back, I realized then and there that this night had no purpose. Other than for the man behind me to get his rocks off, which he did half in me, the rest dripping over my ass from his half-assed attempt to pull out in time.
Shayla chirped, “Let’s go get a drink and another hit of blow,” as soon as Asher finished. He yanked his pants back on after he using his shirt to wipe the cum off my back.
Asher had dropped a ridiculous kiss on the top of my head, as I had frozen in place in disbelief, not even moving from being on all fours. He said, “You gonna come have a drink, little doll?” before he’d followed Shayla out the door like a dog in heat, and I had been left to cry on Beck Hadley’s lap.
STEPPING OUT of the tiny room moist with heat, I forced my brain to close the steel door on my past mistakes and childish thinking.
Based on my foggy head and pruned fingertips, I had overstayed my welcome in the steam room, my body feeling as wrung out as my thoughts. When I stepped into a cool shower to rinse off, my thoughts moved from having been left to cry with Beck alone, but also to parent—and pay for—Quinn. Alone.
It was time I allowed Asher to meet his son. To help, or whatever he wanted to do. I deserved that. I was never going to make a life here in Miami if I didn’t let the guy meet his kid, pay for some shit, and hope that he got the hell out of my space.
I doubted he wanted anything more than to feel he’d paid up. He certainly couldn’t want to take any more responsibility for his son than that.
Asher had cleaned himself up; this I knew already. His drug use was a long time ago. As for his sexual tastes, those hadn’t changed, judging by my finding Penny and the other girl in his bed. Either way, that didn’t affect his ability to be a dad, and I needed the help.
This time, I had no false illusions of him falling in love with me. Just his son.
And Quinn would like that big house.
Go, Speed Racer
Asher
IT HAD taken me awhile, but I wore Lynx down. Mike had helped as much as he could. He wanted his girl back, and I promised him I would help if he got his girl to get me in front of Natalie. The plan was simple: Use my money to purchase a gift card for a day at the spa, have Quinn give it to her, allow her to relax, then surprise her with dinner when she walked out.
I stood there in the blazing Miami heat, leaning against my car. I had leased a fucking Audi A8 sedan. It might have had a V8 engine and sick rims, but it also sported a whole slew of safety features like air bags and shit like that. It was for Quinn—when I was allowed to meet my son. Even I knew you couldn’t put a kid on the back of a bike. Lynx told me that Natalie thought the car was part of an act. The stupid woman had no idea how serious I was about my son and her, but she was about to find out.
Parked directly outside the spa, I let the heat warm my bare arms and run through my veins, heating my already boiling body. I looked down at my black T-shirt and ripped jeans, thinking I didn’t make much of a dad, but I was trying. I had rented a big house with the option to buy, but I was fully planning on taking my woman and kid back to Vegas. No reason to say anything about that now as I watched Natalie walk out the door in front of me.
She was looking at her phone, busy typing a message on the touch screen and not watching where she was walking. I approached with caution. She didn’t know I was coming, and I’d been keeping my distance even in my ever-present state in her life. Now wasn’t the time to scare the shit out of her.
Approaching slowly, I watched as her head popped up as soon as I was in range. “Hey there. How was your afternoon? Relaxing?” I said as I stopped a few steps from her long, lush, massaged body.
“Asher? What are you doing here?” Smacking her head, she let out a loud, “Gah.” Then she took a step backward. “Geez, I’m so stupid. You guys set me up.”
I stepped closer. “Not set up, indulged. You deserved a break.”
Shaking her head, she tried to walk swiftly around me, but I stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.
Natalie stilled and looked away. “I should have known you were behind this little day out for me.” We stood shoulder-to-shoulder, yet she refused to turn and look at me.
I stepped in front of her and held my hands up. “Guilty as charged. I only wanted you to enjoy yourself. You work so hard.”
She pivoted to fully face me. “You, of all people, should know how hard I work, you follow me everywhere. I should report you to the police for stalking. In fact, Greg at work suggested it.”
Squinting, I glared at the stubborn woman. “What the hell? I leave you alone, Natalie. I’m making sure the mother of my son is safe. I don’t trust the security guys at that dump. They’re not like Mike or Petey, or even Billy.”
“They’re fine.” She moved her hands to her hips, accentuating the small dip in her waist before it met the luscious curves I wished my hands were resting on.
“Okay. Let’s not argue about bouncers. I came to take you to dinner.” I nodded my head toward my car.
Narrowing her eyes, she said, “You know what, I was just thinking about giving you a chance to meet Quinn, and in a matter of three minutes, you’ve managed to change that.”
“Come on, Nat.” I tilted my head to the side, giving her my most charming smile.
She leaned in a little closer, her breath vibrating on my ear, making my dick rise to attention at the thought of her making a move. Instead she whispered, “I may have been a foregone conclusion ten years ago, let you have your way with me any way you wanted to on one stupid drunken night. I may have even fallen back into your bed—or couch—in the last few years, but that was then. This is now, Asher, and now is on my terms.”
“Please, Natalie. Please. Just give me a chance.” I didn’t dare move. I was a prisoner to her whims.
I waited silently, my heartbeat pulsing in my ears. All I heard and felt was my desire for the woman in front of me, taunting and challenging me to be someone I wasn’t.
Suddenly she tapped me on the shoulder. “Aren’t you going to get that?”
“What?” A heavy layer of lust—like a thick fog—had taken up residence in my head.
“Your phone. It’s ringing. Been ringing. Earth to Asher,” she said as she poked me with a finger.
Reaching down, I absently patted my pocket where something was vibrating and making unwelcome noise.
Remember the game, Telephone?
Natalie
GOD, THE nerve of him. To think Asher had infiltrated my life enough to orchestrate this day with Lynx was sending chills up and down my spine. I felt a fine layer of nervous sweat rising on my skin. I was so mad, I was ready to punch him all the way back to Vegas. Here I thought he was letting me control the situation, waiting for me to be ready to introduce him to Quinn.
Boy, was I wrong. As usual, he was pulling my strings, and I had been a nice little puppet, letting him do what he wanted, giving him carte blanche when it came to my life.
When was I going to learn? Falling for Asher Peterson had brought me nothing good. Except for my son.
I looked at Asher, standing as still as a statue, waiting for me to say yes to his dinner invite, and felt myself starting to take pity. He’s all alone. Always had been, and it looked like he always would be. My mom said it best when I was a young girl: Asher was fighting an uphill battle, and sadly he was losing.
That was when his phone began to ring. The immobile man in front of me was in such a fog, the sound didn’t even register with him.
Tapping him, I asked, “Aren’t you going to get that?”
“What?” He looked over at me, utterly confused.
“Your phone. It’s ringing. Been ringing. Earth to Asher,” I said, trying to rouse him out of his funk.
He reached down and pulled his phone out of his pocket, sliding his finger over the screen.
“Yeah?” He paused to listen. “What the fuck? That doesn’t make sense. How the hell did he have the nerve to come back?”
&
nbsp; Only able to hear half the conversation, I looked away as if I weren’t listening.
“Goddamn it,” he growled. “No, you did the right thing. It’s me, I have no right being away for so long. Everyone else okay? Lila?” Another pause. “Uh-huh. Well, what did they say? What kind of time are we looking at?”
From Asher’s tone, something big was going down. Giving up the pretense, I stared at him and listened. My blood chilled when I saw the color drain from his face.
“Wait, what did you just say?” Asher paused as he listened, his knuckles white as he clutched his phone. “Well, I’ll be damned. I do. On my way. It’s the least I can fucking do.”
Forgetting my earlier stance to let Asher go, free my head of him, I was beyond caving at this point when I saw the pained expression in Asher’s eyes as he slid the phone back into this pants and looked at me with hollow eyes, the sparkle all but gone.
Although, I didn’t have a chance.
He looked up at me and said, “I’m sorry, Natalie, but I need to get back to Vegas. It’s clear this isn’t really working anyway between us. I wanted to try and everything. I was trying, but sometimes life has a way of showing a man when it’s time to give up. I surrender.”
Asher started to walk away, shoulders slumped, wearing desperation on his sleeve.
“Wait!” I chased after him until we were in front of his car. Stupid ostentatious thing.
He shook his head. “Listen, Nat. I can’t do this. Not now.”
“Okay.” I bowed my head, hiding the fresh crop of tears coming on that clouded my vision, making the man I would always love a hazy mirage.
He lifted my chin and said, “One last thing. Quinn is mine and I’ll never forget that, even if you don’t want me to know him. I mean, I’ll provide for him. I’ll talk to the bank and my lawyer and send you back child support, make arrangements for you to get some type of monthly payments from now on.”
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