by Lila Monroe
Sadness flickered in his eyes, and he reached up, curling a long strand of my hair around his finger before tucking it behind my ear. “Then they were blind.”
And then I couldn’t stand not kissing him any longer.
So I kissed him.
It was long and tender and slow, his lips matching mine in their rhythm and pace, responding perfectly to my every desire. His mouth was warm and wet, his cheek lined with stubble that rasped across my skin in a perfect counterpoint to the softness of his lips, and I moaned lightly at his touch, my champagne falling forgotten from my fingers as I reached up to tangle them in his hair instead. His lips left mine, beginning to travel down my neck, over my collarbone, and then—
And then the phone rang.
Asher looked up at the phone, then back at me, flustered. “I—I could just leave it—”
He looked so adorably worried that I might be offended that I couldn’t help but laugh. “Go answer it. I promise not to evaporate.”
He gave me a smile and quick cheek-kiss and stood, taking his cell phone from the table. “Yes, what is it—” Suddenly his brow creased, his shoulders going tense. “We’ll be right there.” He hung up.
We? A jolt of worry shot through me, and I stood. “What’s wrong?”
Asher was already grabbing our jackets, his face grim. “There’s been an emergency at the shop.”
My heart stopped. “An…emergency?”
“A water pipe’s burst. We may have just lost our studio and our entire stock.”
Oh shit.
NINE
Water was already leaking out of the edge of the doorframe as we approached, and as soon as Asher wrenched at the handle, water cascaded out over our feet. I gasped, my heart plummeting as we entered.
The shop was a disaster zone. The murky water was up to my ankles, soaking boxes of lingerie, staining the throw rugs, eating its way into the walls. It looked like there had been a hurricane. My stomach twisted with nausea, my heart raced.
“How—how could this have happened?” I whispered.
Asher didn’t respond, but waded quickly into the water, following it to its source. I stayed where I was. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to help. It was just that my shaky legs didn’t seem to be able to move.
The world seemed to swim before me, each sight that greeted my eyes worse than the last: an irreparably stained silk teddy wrapped around a mound of soggy cardboard that had once been a box, a sodden couch that cost more than my college tuition sitting in the middle of the room, important receipts and bills of sale scattered all across the interior lake like bits of dirty snow.
I must have made a mistake. I must have fucked up somehow. I had forgotten something, had made some crucial error, and this was all my fault.
I could feel my heart speeding up even more at my guilt, my rib cage crushing my lungs as they fought for air and blackness crowded the corners of my vision. The soaking wall I’d been leaning on gave a little under my weight, and I straightened up and away from it, expecting the entire thing to collapse before me.
I could hear my mother, my old professor and mentor, the loan officer at the bank, all their voices in my head: Didn’t know what you were doing, not experienced, not professional, you’ll make a mistake, Katie, you don’t know what you’re doing…
“Got it!” I snapped back to the present as Asher reappeared from the back, holding a wrench, his wet shirt plastered to his chest and his dark hair slicked down on his head. “One of the pipes burst, but it was just one and I’ve shut it off now.”
“What does it matter?” I whispered. I couldn’t seem to find my voice. It had disappeared with all my hope. “With all this damage…” I couldn’t make myself finish the sentence.
“Hey.” Asher took my shoulders and shook me. “Look at me, Kate. None of this is unfixable.”
I shook my head. “Maybe if we had time, but…we don’t.”
“Hey! Who’s this talking? It doesn’t sound like the Kate Jameson I know.”
Asher hooked his fingers under my chin and gently tilted it upward, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“Do you think Steve Jobs gave up when he had a setback? Do you think Grant did, or me? You are stronger than this. You are the strongest woman I’ve ever known, and even if I’ve overestimated your heart by a factor of a hundred, you’re still made of sterner stuff than half the Wall Street barons I’ve ever met.” His voice vibrated with emotion. “You can get through this. We can both get through this. I—I believe in you. All the way.”
Tears loomed at the corners of my eyes, but I couldn’t look away from his. “You…you really…”
He nodded, not looking away. “I do. Really, I do. We’ll get through this.”
And that was all I needed to hear.
I wiped the tears from my eyes and tried to summon up a smile. “Hey, cheeseball. Patrick Stewart called and he wants his stirring speech back.”
“And there’s the Kate I know!” Asher cried, enfolding me in a warm—if also extremely wet—hug. He squeezed me tight and whispered in my ear: “We’ll make it work, Kate. Trust me. You’ll see.”
#
Turns out the operative part of ‘make it work’ is the word ‘work,’ and boy howdy, did we. We tracked down, bribed, cajoled, and very nearly threatened a plumbing service to come in, fix the pipes, and pump out the water; Asher called in a favor with a contractor to repair the damage to the walls and the wooden floor; I blackmailed an old boyfriend with a steam-cleaning business to take a look at the rugs and furniture; and we bought out a nearby convenience store’s entire stock of hairdryers to hand dry every single piece of lingerie, sorting out the items that were irretrievably ruined and rearranging the ones that were left to cover up the fact that we had ever planned to have any more for sale.
Last but not least, we brought out the potpourri and the incense, suffusing the air with the delicate scent of chrysanthemum and violets.
“Told ya we could do it,” Asher said as we surveyed the fruits of our labors.
I looked around. The store looked, if anything, even better than it had before. The lingerie boxes we’d had to throw out meant the space looked more open and inviting. The new paint on the walls was bright and cheery. The floor gleamed, freshly waxed. The open windows carried the scent of California eucalyptus.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I told him, taking his hand.
“Oh, you could have,” he murmured, looking deep into my eyes. “But I’m glad you didn’t have to.”
I smiled up at him, too tired and grateful and intoxicated with his closeness to think of one single thing to be sarcastic about. “Do you think we could get back to that conversation we were having, before we were so rudely interrupted?”
“I think I remember the general gist of it,” he murmured, leaning down and capturing my lips in a kiss.
Kissing him was like coming home; I sighed as his tongue slipped between my lips and his hands began to roam across my back, squeezing my ass as I ground against him, his cock hard and long against my thigh. My nipples tightened as his hot mouth made its way down my neck to lick and nip at my cleavage, and I gasped as he began to bite and suck at my breasts through the thin fabric above them.
“Counter,” I demanded breathlessly, and he picked me up and carried me to the edge of the counter, his intent mouth sucking at my right nipple the entire time.
I locked my legs around his hips as he set me down and pulled him to me until I could feel his hard dick pressing against the silk of my panties, my skirt already rucked up around my thighs. I clenched the muscles of my legs, wanting him inside me already, wanting to feel his size and his power.
My hands were moving of their own accord, unbuttoning his shirt and stroking his broad chest; I pinched his nipple and he grunted, thrusting against me harder as his hands came up, pulling my dress over my head.
I spared a moment of mental gratitude for the fact that I was wearing my own lingerie today, and then all th
oughts fled from my head as Asher knelt between my legs, ripping my panties down to my knees before leaning forward and sucking my clit into his mouth.
I moaned, and he flicked out his tongue, tracing the lips of my pussy with agonizing slowness. I rocked against him, impatient, my hands curling in his hair, and was rewarded by his tongue dipping into me, stroking my inner wall lightly before retreating again.
“Asher,” I pleaded, my voice rough with need. “Asher, please, more, God…”
His hands were clamped down on my thighs, spreading them open and holding me tight as he licked me; his thumb began to circle my clit, forcing breathy moans from my mouth.
“You’ve been working so hard, Kate,” he whispered against my pussy. “I think you deserve a little reward.” His tongue plunged into me, even deeper.
“Oh, God yes,” I panted.
I writhed on the counter, legs spread, wetter than I had ever been in my life, completely at the mercy of those sweet lips. When he slid a finger inside me, I whimpered, pressing myself helplessly against him, pleas falling from my lips: “Oh God, Asher, please, so good, I need more, so good, Asher…”
Another finger, and I moaned louder, unable to stop my hips from jolting upward harder and faster as he began to set a more frantic pace, his fingers curling up inside me, his thumb merciless on my clit, his lips and his tongue tracing and kissing and sucking and oh God, it had never been this good before—
“Fuck!” I gave a short sharp cry as his fingers twisted inside me, finding the spot no other man had ever found, lights bursting behind my eyes as I groaned in ecstasy. “Asher…”
He withdrew, standing, his eyes dark with passion. He licked his lips slowly, and I stretched, pulling off my bra so that he could feast his eyes on my breasts. His right hand settled down to stroke his cock, and I reached forward to wrap my fingers around it, but he pushed me away.
Spreading my thighs further apart, he pressed his hard, ready dick against my aching opening, and I welcomed him into my slick, needy wetness, whimpering as he stretched my cunt in the most delicious way.
“God, Kate, you feel so good,” he groaned, easing into a soft, delicious rhythm, but I clenched my pussy around him as tight as I could and grabbed his hip to stop his movements.
“I need you to fuck me,” I demanded. “Fuck me right now.”
“If you insist,” he replied with a glint in his eyes, and he began thrusting into me, building speed, grinding deeper and deeper into me, but stopping every few seconds to tease me until I started panting with anticipation, utterly maddened with desire.
“Harder,” I groaned, my nails biting into the expanse of his back. “And faster. Don’t stop.” He thrust into me hard and fast, just like I asked him to.
“Like this?”
“Oh God, yes, Asher, harder!” He obeyed, and I gave into a staccato of jagged moans, not caring if anyone heard. “Harder, yes, God yes. Give me that, so good.”
“You’re so fucking hot,” he gasped, speeding up even more, slamming into me, my ass slapping into counter with every thrust. “God, you’re so fucking eager. You fucking love this, love taking my cock as deep as it can go, you feel fucking amazing.”
He bent his head over me and ran his tongue across my nipple, sucking it into his mouth, biting it gently at first and then sucking, sucking so hard as he tilted my hips up and angled further into me, hitting that spot, fucking me even deeper.
“Oh yeah, yeah, just like that.” I grabbed his hips and pulled him faster into me, claiming him as mine, loving the way he groaned as my inner walls tightened around his cock. “Call me names, call me every name in the book, tell me how bad I am…”
“You’re bad, Katie. You wanted my cock from the minute you saw me, you wanted me deep in your mouth and your pussy and you wanted to beg for it. You wanted me to fuck you on the counter of your store like I’m fucking you right now, the lights on and the curtains wide open, so everyone can see that I’m taking you, that my cock belongs in your cunt and—”
“Oh, fuck me,” I moaned, “come inside me, Asher, come inside me right now—”
“You are perfect,” he growled, pumping into me, “just fucking perfect.”
I felt myself getting close and dug my nails into his back, biting down on his shoulder as the hot sweetness spread from my clit into the deepest parts of me, so close, almost there, and his skin tasted of sweat and sex and Asher, oh God—
“Kate—” He gasped and threw back his head, sweat-slicked hair glistening under the buzzing fluorescent lights, and I felt him go even harder inside me and as he came with a heavy groan I rode his pleasure to my own orgasm and we panted into each other’s mouths, moaning together, riding out the waves until we both shuddered to a stop, still gasping for breath.
He slipped from me and wrapped those long, lovely arms around my body, planting kisses on my face and neck and chest and every single millimeter of exposed skin until I was so tickled by his stubble I had to swat him away.
“Remind me why we didn’t do this the second we met?” I asked, slumping forward against his chest in post-coital glow.
“Because I’m an idiot,” he rumbled, his hands tracing over my back gently.
“But a sexy idiot,” I reassured him, and I loved the way I could feel his laugh reverberate against my cheek.
“And you’re a sexy genius,” he said. He coughed, then, suddenly awkward. “Ah…we should probably actually close those curtains.”
“Shit, yes,” I said. “And then we need to go back to one of our places and try this on every available surface. Also possibly your car if you’re not too worried about the resale value.”
Asher grinned, that dimple winking on his cheek in a way that, if I were a sappier kind of girl, I just might have fallen in love with. But I didn’t, because I’m not sappy. At all. Not even a little bit. I swear.
“I assure you,” he said. “Resale value has never been so far from my mind.”
TEN
“OMG, have you seen this fabric, it is divine!”
“—looks like something out of a movie star’s bedroom—”
“—this color is so perfect for my eyes!”
“Is this hand-stitching here? Exquisite!”
“Excuse me? Excuse me, miss? I’d like ten of these, please! And do you ship orders out of state? Because I have some friends—”
The words washed over me like sweet champagne as I moved throughout the space, ringing up merchandise, refilling drinks, taking requests for the small jazz band we’d booked, making small talk, and smiling, smiling, smiling—I couldn’t have wiped the grin off my face if I had tried.
It didn’t matter that I was so busy that even with the help of Lacey, Grant, and Asher I was too busy to sit down. Everyone was so happy, so thrilled, so excited—and because of me!
The room was a blur of light and laughter and animated faces, hand-clasps and congratulations. I kept having to stop and stare at what was happening, all these customers (customers!) in my store (my store!), milling about and buying my lingerie.
And the looks of awe and delight on their faces as they touched the pieces, held the silk and lace in their hands as if the lingerie were as precious as diamonds, practically floating between the carefully arranged displays and the luxurious fitting rooms and the cold hard cash register. This was my dream.
It was real. It was real. It was all really happening.
And damn, but didn’t everything look great. You’d never guess it was all underwater yesterday.
“Katie, baby!” Evangeline waved me over. “We need some more pictures! Can you stand over here by the garter belt display? That’s it, give Antonio a smile—oooh, very saucy, snap it right there, Antonio!”
A full article. I was going to get a full article in Blossom. How was this even real? The place was already filled with excitedly chatting fashionistas just from Evie’s one blog post; what would an actual article do?
I smiled for the camera, for Antonio, for the entire w
orld—would it be possible to ever stop smiling? I didn’t think so.
I’d done it. I’d really done it.
“Katie!”
I’d barely finished shooting the pictures for Blossom when I was intercepted by my mother, swooping down like a particularly proud hawk.
I braced myself for an insult-disguised-as-a-compliment, but she just wrapped me up in a hug that would have done a grizzly proud.
“Oh, Katie, I’m so glad I could make it! This is just dazzling, my dear! An entrepreneur, and at your age, too!”
“Couldn’t be prouder,” my dad said, clapping me on my back. “Well done.”
“This is…” My brother looked a little dazed. “I mean, wow, Katie. I didn’t realize. Wow.”
I was so overwhelmed, I almost cried. Tears did come to my eyes, but I hid them by pressing my face into my mother’s shoulder as I hugged her back. This was happening. It really was. My dream, and my family supporting my dream, and…oh God, I was so happy and dizzy and delighted and over the moon that I wanted to leap and spin and sing like a Disney princess on crack.
I showed my family around the store, pointing out the little details that a casual observer might not notice, until I spotted Asher across the room.
Memories and sensations flooded me as a warm smile spread across his face, and I quickly made an excuse to my family before slipping over to him.
“Well, hello, Miss Jameson,” he said, grinning. “Do you think I could steal you away from your fans for just a moment?”
“Well, Mr. Young,” I said with an answering grin, my entire soul feeling fizzy and light, “twist my arm, why don’t you.”
#
Asher’s hot lips were on mine before we had even finished sliding into the unused changing room, and the lock on the door had barely clicked shut before I had him pressed up against the wall, my tongue down his throat as his teasing fingers slid below my waistline, burrowing beneath my panties to stroke my wet pussy.
