Chloe
“Are you sure you’ll be okay? You were pretty quiet in the car.”
Asher looked at me from the doorway to my bedroom, which he’d just walked me to after our arrival home from the city. Mom and Robert hadn’t noticed anything odd about the tense silence on the ride home, and I was grateful for that. I was also grateful for the fact that Asher hadn’t immediately told them what happened to me in the alleyway. Mom had already been through enough with having her ex-husband jailed for murder—she didn’t need a crazy daughter with a host of disturbing issues to add to that list of terrible things.
I tried to nod at Asher, tell him that I’d be fine. But it wasn’t true.
I wasn’t fine.
Try as I might, I couldn’t stop thinking about that night at the Fontenot house a year ago. It had been in the back of my mind for weeks now, and after the assault in the alleyway, it’d immediately been pushed right to the front again. I knew there was something I was still forgetting about that night, some piece of the puzzle that was still missing. On top of that, there was also the matter of the identity of the person who attacked me tonight. My nerves were still ragged from the incident, and I didn’t even want to think about what might’ve happened if Asher hadn’t been there to fend off the assailant.
But why? Why did that person attack me? Was it really just to keep my mouth shut about my father’s innocence, like the note said?
If so, was word really traveling that far and wide around town about my opinion on the murder trial? I hadn’t exactly kept my feelings on the case to myself over the last year, but it wasn’t like I was standing around the street corners of Claremont Bay with a huge sign and a loudspeaker like some sort of conspiracy nut. I’d only mentioned my belief in Dad’s innocence to friends and family, although I suppose it was possible that any—or all—of them could’ve mentioned it to someone else who then told someone else, setting off a chain reaction of gossip.
“Chloe?” Asher said, stepping closer.
I realized I still hadn’t replied to his first question yet, and I gave him a shaky nod. “I’ll be fine.”
He touched a fingertip to my face, stroking my soft skin before tucking a stray strand of hair behind my left ear. “You don’t look fine,” he murmured. “You’re still thinking about it all, aren’t you?”
I nodded. “Yeah. And I suppose I’m still scared,” I said, looking down at the floor. “That man who attacked me…it’s just…”
My voice trailed off, and Asher slid a hand under my chin, gently tilting my face up to meet his gaze. “Like I said earlier, it’ll never happen again. I’m going to keep you safe, Chloe. I promise.”
I believed him. Once upon a time, I wouldn’t have trusted a word he said, but things had changed.
“Thank you. I guess I better get to bed,” I said, trying to stop my voice from trembling.
“If you want, I could sleep in here. Make you feel safer.”
I shook my head. Lust was already coiling in my belly at the thought, but it was wrong; we couldn’t do that right now. “We shouldn’t. Not while our parents are home.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I could sleep on the sofa on the other side of your room. That way you know you’re safe in here, and if our parents come in for some reason, they won’t think anything’s going on. They’ll think we were just hanging out chatting on the couch, and I accidentally fell asleep.”
“You’d really do that?” I asked, eyes widening slightly. “Spend the night in here without…without anything else?”
“For you? Yeah.”
I smiled softly. “Big bad Asher St Clair…looks like he’s not so bad after all,” I said in a light teasing tone.
He flashed me that signature smirk of his and took one step closer. “Careful,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Or I’ll show you how bad I can really be.”
I wanted to laugh at his words, but something told me he wasn’t really joking. Desire lit his eyes as he waited for my response, and I swallowed hard. God, how I wanted him…but our parents were in the house. We couldn’t risk it.
Could we?
“Screw it,” I whispered before pulling Asher closer to me by his shirt and kicking the door shut behind him. “Make me feel better, Asher. Make it all better.”
“You sure?” he growled, arms encircling me. His hands moved down to my ass, squeezing it tightly, and a frisson of pleasure jolted through me.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Take me away from all this. Just for a while.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he took a hungry mouth to mine, his hands grabbing and pulling at my clothes as his lips devoured me in a kiss hot enough to set the ocean on fire. After locating my zipper and yanking down my dress in one movement, he let the fabric fall between us, leaving me in nothing but a bra and soaking wet pair of panties, which his hands made quick work of too.
My own hands focused on tearing his clothes off as well, and when we were naked, Asher picked me up as if I weighed nothing at all, mouth moving down my body and pressing kisses on my soft skin as he walked us over to the bed, my legs wrapped around his hips. His tongue lashed at my nipples, making them pebble with desire, and then he threw me down on the bed, making my head spin with urgent need.
He settled his weight over me and moved lower, tasting me, inhaling deeply as his tongue traced a hot, wet line over my abdomen, across my hip bones and down my inner thighs. When his mouth reached the apex of my legs, he groaned, the sound combining with the wanton moans spilling from my lips.
“God, you taste so good,” he said in a husky, reverent voice, hands roughly pushing my legs further apart. His tongue dipped inside me, his desire pouring through his mouth and hands as he played between my legs, feasting on every inch of me.
One hand slid underneath me, curling under my ass and gripping it tightly. The other remained between my legs, and I moaned again as I felt the press of a finger at my entrance. One thrust of that finger broke any chance of me backing away from this out of fear of being caught, and I gasped and reached down, gripping Asher’s hair. His finger pushed deeper, hooking inside me, and he pulled his mouth away and looked up at me, eyes darkening and lips curling into a smirk as he watched my mouth pop open again.
“More…please, more,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I jerked my hips up against his touch.
My whole body tingled from the urgency of our lust, and Asher responded to my begging by sliding another finger into me. I clenched around the invading digits and moaned, rocking my body against his hand, and flames of desire licked my skin as Asher lowered his head once more, tongue tracing circles over my clit as his fingers massaged the tender flesh inside me. My hips bucked against him, and my eyes flew open with shock as his tongue moved lower, circling the tight rosebud of my ass.
I’d never even thought I would want that, never would’ve dreamed it might feel good, but Christ, Asher knew what he was doing.
He pulled his fingers out of me and replaced his tongue with one of them, the tip stroking circles around my tightest hole, and his mouth moved back to my clit in teasing lashes as I moaned and shuddered beneath him. His fingers were still wet from the slickness of my pussy, and when he finally slid one into my ass, slowly and gently, I let out a guttural groan of pleasure.
The sounds spilling from my lips were unstoppable now, fervent moans, rumbling hisses, breathless gasps. When I came, I almost screamed, but Asher quickly moved back up the bed, muffling the sound as his lips took my mouth like he owned it.
And he did. My body belonged to him now.
I could barely believe we were doing this right now, risking it all while our parents were in the house, but I knew it would be fine. It just had to be. It was unlikely that our parents would walk in on us anyway—they would be in bed by now, and it was rare that they ever came to this wing of the manor anyway.
As the last shudders of ecstasy faded from my body, I gathered the strength to sit up, balancing on my elbows, and Ash
er leaned back, resting his weight on his knees, dark eyes watching me as my gaze moved to his cock. “My turn,” he said, pulling me closer, and I let him, desperate to taste him, desperate to feel his cock filling my mouth, desperate to bring him the same pleasure he’d brought me. I wanted to lick every inch of it, suck on the head till he groaned, take him as far down my throat as I could. I wanted to obsessively worship him like he deserved, show him how hungry I was for his body.
I took him in my mouth, one hand tightly wrapped around the base of his shaft as the other stroked his abs and the V-cut of his hips. Asher’s hands threaded through my hair and settled on the back of my head, pushing on it with encouragement as I bobbed my head up and down, and I tried my best to look up at him as I did so, wanting to see his face tighten with pleasure.
His breaths grew faster and shallower, and he groaned and pulled away. “Fuck…that’s amazing,” he growled. “But I want your pussy. I can’t wait.”
With that, he pushed me back on the mattress, and I gasped as he roughly spread my legs again, stretching me out on the bed. This was what I wanted most of all too; the relentless way he was about to fuck me, devouring my body and dominating me without restraint. I needed to see the fire in his eyes as he drove in and out of my tightness, needed to push him closer and closer to the edge, needed to fulfil his every need.
I gripped his shoulders and whimpered as the head of his cock lingered at my slick entrance, and then I gasped and ran my hands over the hard planes of his muscular back as he pushed inside, filling me with searing pleasure as I stretched around his girth. My legs quivered as intensity shook my body. It was almost too much; an overload of heat and sensation, and I cried out as his groin bumped up against my clit with each thrust, pushing me closer and closer to the precipice of another climax.
Our bodies fell into a rhythm, and Asher shifted his angle slightly so I could take him even deeper. I threw my head back and moaned as he lowered his mouth to my breasts, and I clenched and tightened around his cock, increasing the friction between our bodies as the first flutters of another orgasm took hold in my core.
“Fuck, your pussy is so tight,” he grunted, slamming into me with the hardest thrust yet. “So fucking good.”
I was beginning to lose my grip on reality, and sweat beaded on my skin as I gripped Asher tighter, pulling him deeper with each movement against me. My mouth found his again, and I kissed him like I was starving, still wanting more and more.
I let out a groan. I needed another orgasm like I needed oxygen in my lungs, and with a few more pushes, my mind was almost lost in another flurry of bliss and warmth. My breathing turned ragged and uneven as Asher licked the pad of his thumb and rubbed it in expert circles over my clit, and I began to thrash on the bed, fisting the sheets next to me to stop me from arching off it altogether.
“Look at me, Chloe,” Asher demanded, making me open my eyes and focus on him as the tension mounted in my core. I’d never felt so vulnerable, so exposed, but with Asher it was okay. I knew he wasn’t judging me or looking for weaknesses. He just wanted to watch me come, wanted me to look right at him and know beyond a shadow of doubt that it was him bringing me all this pleasure.
He was the only one who could.
When I finally came again, the intensity of it robbed my lungs of air. My jaw dropped in a soundless cry, and Asher’s gaze locked right on me, watching every second of my rapture. I was giving it all to him now; my body, my mind, my heart.
“Fuck,” he growled.
His body shook above me, and I felt him as he came, twitching and throbbing deep inside me as he gasped and grunted, slowing his movements and giving me just a few final pushes.
When we were finished, we lay back on the bed in silence, trying to catch our breath, and when Asher’s arm slipped around me, pulling me closer, I knew something had irrevocably changed in our relationship.
This wasn’t just about animalistic fucking anymore. This was something else, and Asher was someone else. He was no longer the cocky prick I’d first encountered weeks ago; the kind of man who inspired nothing but wanton desire in me. He was a good person deep down; the kind of man who inspired much more than heady, animal lust. The kind of man who inspired me to feel…something new. Something incredible.
I was falling for Asher St Clair.
Hard.
Seventeen
Killer
That stupid little bitch needed to keep her mouth shut.
As I thought about my recent encounter with Chloe Carlyle, I squeezed a glass so hard that it almost shattered in my palm. The stupid girl honestly thought I was going to kill her in that alleyway, but I wasn’t a monster. I just needed her to shut the fuck up. For the better part of the last year, she’d been going around town harping on to anyone who would listen about her father’s supposed innocence, and the more she did that, she more she had to be thinking about the overall case. And the more she thought about the case, the more risk there was of her tapping into buried memories, letting them come to surface.
That could not happen.
I couldn’t have her remembering everything from that night a year ago.
What she saw.
Who drove her home.
She was so off her face that night when she stumbled into the house on Fontenot Avenue that to this day, she had absolutely no idea that I was right there in the house too, as well as Catalina. She had no idea that it was me who shoved her in a car and took her home, and she also had no idea that the carefully-worded texts saying she was catching a cab home were actually sent by me from her cellphone when I got hold of it, in order to convince her and her friends that she got home safely and uneventfully. I couldn’t have her remembering what really happened while she was in the house that night, after all.
No one needed to know the truth.
That truth was: I killed Catalina. But hear me out. Like I said earlier, I wasn’t a monster. Never had been. Angry? Yes. Hurt? Yes.
But not a monster.
See, the human body undergoes certain physiological reactions during periods of high stress and emotion. Especially anger. When you get angry, your breathing gets faster. The faster you breathe, the more oxygen you take in. Your heart begins to pump faster from all that oxygen, increasing your blood pressure. You get hot. You sweat. Turn red. Shake.
And that was how it was for me when I found out Catalina was back in town after all these years. After what she did to me, to find out she was pregnant again—to yet another man—and living right there on Fontenot Avenue….well, it made my blood boil.
I admit I blacked out for a few moments after I confronted her. I remembered pushing her, remembered kicking her, remembered going into the kitchen to grab a knife. But the rest was a blur. They say I stabbed her several times. Killed her baby.
Did I? Oh well. She was barely six months along, so it wasn’t like the baby knew what was happening and really registered the pain or felt its life ebbing away. But I knew Catalina did. Oh, she felt it. She knew why I was doing it, and she knew she deserved it. After all the years of deceit and misery she inflicted upon everyone she touched, she more than deserved it.
Bitch.
I didn’t feel bad for killing her. I felt a little bad that Chloe Carlyle’s father was accused and charged for my crime, but only a little. He was no angel, believe me. What kind of man cheated on his woman like that? His poor family, never even knowing that behind their backs he was fucking Catalina, keeping her in one of his houses, even knocking her up. He deserved some sort of punishment for the cruelty he’d inflicted on his family members, and I suppose serving a life sentence for a crime he didn’t commit was the punishment the universe ended up handing down to him.
Boo-fucking-hoo.
That brought us back to his daughter, Little Miss Chloe. The sweet thing had never stopped believing in him, never given up. I hoped very much that she’d taken my warning seriously, because if she didn’t stop digging into this case, then I’d need to take some drastic a
ction against her. I didn’t want to do that; didn’t want to kill her too.
But if it came down to it, and I needed to? I would.
In a heartbeat.
I wouldn’t get caught for Catalina’s murder now, not when I’d already done so well. Not when I’d already gotten away with it, and another person was rotting in jail for my crime.
I was free as a bird, as the saying goes.
And that was damn well how things were going to stay.
Eighteen
Asher
A couple of days later, Chloe still seemed on edge. Finally, after tiptoeing around the subject for such a long time, I decided I simply couldn't let it go anymore. We needed to get to the bottom of this, and we were going to do it together. I asked her to meet me in the library, and I arrived half an hour early to clear my head, surprised to find her already sitting in a plush velvet armchair.
“You're quite the early bird,” I teased her as I walked in, and she looked up from her book, the corners of her mouth turning upwards into a smile. “You look lovely, by the way.”
“Thanks,” she said, and I winked at her as I came closer. A look over my shoulder revealed we were alone, and since I'd shut the door behind me, there was no fear of us getting busted. I leaned down closer to Chloe and pressed a fleeting kiss on her lips before taking another good look at her.
She was wearing a simple black dress and a soft chenille cardigan that felt soft to the touch as I brushed my fingertips over her arm. Her long, dark brown hair was hanging down her back in voluminous waves, and her lips were painted a pretty shade of pink. It was the only makeup she was wearing today, and it suited her, though I didn't want to tell her that for fear of being almost too observant. But truth be told, lately I noticed everything about Chloe, be it a change in the perfume she wore or a different pair of earrings. It seemed as if my eyes were always glued to her pretty features, and I couldn't tear them away. I needed to memorize every part of her face, every curve of her stunning body and commit them to memory. That was the only way I wouldn't completely lose her when this—whatever we were doing—finally came to an end, as it inevitably would.
Scandal (A Dirty Money Novel) Page 16
