by Bijou Hunter
“My best friend, Mallory, said she would help me decorate the guest apartment. We’ll make it work for both Asher’s subdued tastes and my more interesting ones.”
I laugh at her wording, but mostly Junie’s enthusiasm is catching. She looks relaxed in denim overall shorts with a white tank. I can’t peel my gaze away from her bare legs. They were wrapped around my hips this morning before we dressed for our appointment. I recall how soft her legs felt, and how the sweet spot between those legs tasted.
“Asher, how do you feel about the changes?”
Startled out of my dirty thoughts, I shrug. “I’m not looking forward to the Farmer’s Market this weekend.”
“I go every other weekend,” Junie explains.
“They can be very crowded,” Disher points out.
With a defiant frown, Junie says, “I’ll keep him safe.”
“How?”
“Rough up people when they get too close. If Asher gets stressed, I’ll distract him by putting his hands on my boobs, or I can whisper about my pussy. You know, help him think with his dick rather than his fabulously big brain.”
“Glad to hear you have a plan.”
“Which is a step up from the way I usually live my life. Look at how I’ve changed for Asher.”
“Do you feel it’s happening too fast?” Disher asks me.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to slow down?”
Smiling at Junie, I shake my head. “She took the first step with painting her apartment. Now it’s my turn.”
Disher nods, but he doesn’t believe I’m ready for the Farmer’s Market. He’s right, of course. I’m bound to stumble and fall quite a few times before I get the hang of what I’m building with Junie. No matter the rocky path in front of me, I know she’s the only one who can make me happy. My happiness is worth what awaits us.
CH 24
❁ Junie❁
Asher shows up at my apartment wearing a black and gray long sleeve shirt. He’s perfectly dressed for a nice dinner out or even a relaxed business meeting but not for a trip to the Farmer’s Market in 80-degree weather. I skate into my bedroom where I search for a set of clothing I bought for him in case he ever showed up again and wasn’t looking to wear the pink pandas nightgown. I take the white T-shirt and return to the living room where Asher stands rigid.
“You’re such a sexy overdressed statue,” I tell him and tug at his long sleeve.
Asher wants to complain when I remove his shirt, but he keeps his mouth shut. He doesn’t even say anything when I kiss his nipples before dressing him in the plain white shirt.
“It’s hot outside,” I say, fighting a smile. “But it’s a dry heat.”
Smirking, Asher looks down at the shirt. “Is this new?”
“I bought it for you. No other man’s worn it if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“I wasn’t worried about that.”
“Good. Now I’ve packed up water and snacks, and I have my fruit bag. Mallory was good to go a few minutes ago when I texted her. Are you ready to do this thing?”
“Yes,” he mutters with a complete lack of enthusiasm.
“That’s the spirit,” I say, taking his hand and grabbing my backpack. “Do you have sunglasses and a hat in the car?”
“Sunglasses.”
“You can wear one of my hats.”
At the front door, I search the hat hooks for my least feminine cap and settle on the dark blue Roswell one complete with a round spaceship.
“Mallory and I visited our senior year of high school.”
Asher takes the hat and gives me a disgruntled frown. “Don’t tell me you believe in aliens.”
“I believe aliens could exist. Why not?”
“You don’t believe in psychiatry, but you think aliens are real.”
“I think they could be real. Not the same thing. I’m open to the idea. Mostly, I went to Roswell to suck up to a hot guy who was into that stuff. Didn’t work out, but I did get this hat, so it wasn’t a total waste.”
Asher grunts at the thought of a hot guy inspiring me to do something dumb. I pat his chest again, enjoying the thought of his bare skin just under the fabric. I wouldn’t mind wearing out Asher enough at the Farmer’s Market to keep him here all night. A far-fetched fantasy no doubt, but a girl can hope.
‧:❉:‧ ♂ ♀ ‧:❉:‧
❁ Asher ❁
Junie smells like sunscreen, and her skin shines in the sunlight. I reach out to touch her bare shoulder, causing her to glance back at me and smile warmly. She’s in her element here at the Farmer’s Market.
Next to her, Mallory shuffles in a pair of pink flip-flops. She’s a curvy woman with nearly four inches on Junie. Her dark hair is bleached blonde, but I’m told this is temporary.
“She might go pink for Christmas.”
“Wouldn’t blue make more sense?”
“No, Asher,” Junie says with entirely too much sincerity.
I can’t keep my hands off her when she teases me. The way her eyes light up pumps me full of male confidence. My dick even twitches when I see her smiling coyly. Likely my body remembers how our first sexual experience began with a teasing Junie.
Mallory doesn’t say much to me. She and Junie don’t speak to each other either. They’re focused on looking for particular foods, and I sense they’ve spent so much time together that they’ve hit the point where they no longer need words to communicate. Will I ever reach such a comfort with Junie? Do I even want to? Not knowing what she’ll say or do next is one reason I love her.
“Asher!” someone calls out from behind us.
I’m so focused on Junie’s bare shoulders that my body doesn’t react to the idea of a man bothering me.
“I’ll handle this,” Junie says, finally waking me from my dirty thoughts of her naked back at the apartment.
Turning around to see the approaching man, I’m startled by how fiercely my body reacts to the sight. Jesse Baker was a big deal in high school. Athletic and good-looking, he dated whoever he wanted and treated me as if I were invisible.
Age hasn’t been kind to him. Thinning blond hair and a second chin make him appear a decade older than me. I know I could beat this man in a fight, but I still step defensively backward when he reaches out to shake my hand.
“Nope,” Junie says, slapping away his hand. “No autographs today.”
“I know Asher from high school.”
“When was the last time you two chatted?” Mallory asks, standing behind Jesse.
“In high school.”
“Don’t you think if Asher was interested in bonding with you that he might have tracked you down in the last few decades?” Junie asks. “Seriously, man, take the hint.”
Jesse looks over Junie’s head and tries to speak to me, but Mallory pokes him with her pineapple. Despite every nerve in my body seizing and feeling overwhelmed by the urge to get out of this place and away from these people, I chuckle at the sight of these two women intimidating Jesse Baker.
“Get lost, or I’ll use my pepper spray,” Junie says, reaching into her pocket. “Are you a threat?” she loudly asks. “Should I fear for my safety or the safety of those around me?”
Jesse mutters something insulting under his breath and gets jabbed with the pineapple for his efforts. When he stomps away, a few people applaud as if Junie and Mallory scared off an actual threat.
“Thanks, everyone,” Junie says, giving them a goofy wave. “We just want to keep our local Farmer’s Market safe and sane.”
I know the sane part is for me because Junie gives me a wink. “See, how I protect you? No one messes with my man.”
“He was harmless.”
“Then why didn’t you handle him?” she whispers, wearing a smirk.
“It’s my day off.”
“Sure,” she says, glancing back at Mallory. “Where do you think our stalker P.I. is?”
“Shouldn’t he keep a good eye on the boss?” Mallory asks.
I study the crowd of people around us, wishing again how I was at home rather than in the parking lot of a strip mall lined with stalls.
“I hired someone else, so you wouldn’t recognize him,” I admit, crossing my arms and frowning at the people crowding me.
Junie steps closer on my right side and gestures for Mallory to do the same on the left. They’re my pretty bodyguards, but I don’t need physical protection. My problem is internal. Crowds stress me out because people stress me out. They’re smelly and want to touch everything and have no concept of personal space.
We move through the crowd until reaching a stand selling tomatoes. Then Mallory stops and picks through the bins while Junie keeps going with me until we reach a circle of food trucks.
“You’re doing great,” Junie says and tugs at my shirt. “You look great too. If I didn’t have such great self-control, I’d be all over you right now. Rubbing and licking and gyrating.”
Even grinning, I keep my guard up. Nowhere in the crowd do I spot the new P.I., but he’s probably nearby. Again, I’m less concerned about physical threats than the growing tension riding up my spine.
“Asher, I found a great chair for the guest apartment. It’s very subdued the way you like, but comfy for napping the way I like.”
Focusing my gaze on Junie, I smile wider. “Define subdued.”
“A light slate gray color.”
I cup her face. “Sounds like something I would pick.”
“I always have you in mind when I shop. I’m getting better at seeing through your eyes now.”
“What do I see now?”
“Your terribly sexy girlfriend who has forced you into an obscenely crowded space with people who smell like too much sunscreen, cheap cologne, and stinky body odor. “
“You are terribly sexy.”
“And it is obscenely crowded,” she says, glancing around. “I never noticed that before today.”
“You can block out distractions like I can’t.”
“I have one more favor to ask, and then I’ll let you flee this horror show,” Junie says and smiles when I exhale loudly. “Mallory and I usually get food off the trucks and eat outside. If you can’t eat outside, that’s fine. It’s so hot today anyway, but I want you to let me buy you food from the truck.”
“Sure,” I say, trying not to think about the quality of the food she expects me to eat.
“These trucks have to use the same standards as restaurants. I checked with the food inspector who takes the bus with me.”
“Why do so many people take the bus?”
“Because the bridge is a pain during rush hour. You’d know that if you left your palace in the sky, Ferrer,” she teases before focusing on an approaching Mallory.
“I rounded up all the veggies Pollyanna asked for,” she says, lifting a knit bag. “Are we eating here or at home?”
“Home,” Junie says without missing a beat. “We’ve had enough overheated excitement for one day.”
“You can pick out my food,” I tell Junie when she skates toward the trucks. “I don’t care what you get.”
Junie smiles at me over her bare shoulder, and I’m again entranced by the memory of what hides under her tank top and shorts.
‧:❉:‧ ♂ ♀ ‧:❉:‧
❁ Junie❁
I grossly underestimated how crowded the Farmer’s Market would feel to Asher. The number of people who frequent this community happening never bothered me, and I figured they were manageable for him. Clearly, I’m still learning to view situations through Asher’s eyes and his needs.
The entire time we’re at the Farmer’s Market, his jaw remains clenched despite forcing smiles a few times. Even knowing I’ve put him in a bad situation, I demand we get food from the truck along with us stopping at my mother’s door. Mallory offers to drop off Pollyanna’s bag of veggies and fruit, but I shrug her off.
“You’re already stressed,” I tell Asher after Mallory heads upstairs and I knock on my mother’s door. “Might as well torture you a little more.”
“You’re getting too much pleasure out of my discomfort.”
“No, I’m really not, but the pain is less painful when you’re already in pain.”
“That’s not particularly true,” he says, inching closer to me and caressing my shoulder.
“Your system is totally overwhelmed, so a little more suffering won’t hurt as much as feeling it when you’re happy. Trust me because I know. Learning my father died wasn’t as painful as learning about Oona. She came first, and I was numb by the time they told me about Dad.”
No doubt pulling the dead dad and sister cards is sneaky. Except I do know what I’m talking about, and I want Asher to meet my mom. They need to acknowledge each other at least once, and I’ve chosen today to be the day.
Mom opens the door only an inch even though she must know I’m the one who knocked. She has security cameras at the entrances and a monitor at her front door. Knowing I’m not alone, she reacts with the fear of a woman lost in a world ruled by fear.
“Mom, this is Asher. We picked up your things at the Farmer’s Market.”
Her gaze flashes to his feet and then back to his face. I don’t know if she’s worried he has a weapon, but she finally opens the door a few inches more.
“Hello,” Mom says, reaching out for her bag of food.
“Asher, this is Pollyanna Voss.”
“Hello,” he says back, sounding as weird as she does.
“Did you want to come inside?”
Her question reeks of fear. Asher’s face looks as terrified as her words sound. They’re so consumed with panic at the unknown that I don’t know if they even breathe until I decline.
“We have plans, but I wanted you to meet each other.”
Mom smiles full of relief while Asher unclenches his jaw the tiniest bit. They survived a two-minute meeting with only a minimal amount of suffering. For any other two people, I’d assume they exaggerated their stress for attention except attention is the last thing either of them craves.
I leave Mom to close and lock her door. Heading up the stairs, I know Asher is close behind. I feel him relaxing; can almost hear the change in his breathing. By the time we step into my apartment, he’s an entirely different man than the one at the Farmer’s Market. Larger, more in charge of himself, and stronger in every way, Asher now watches me with a hunger I know has nothing to do with the burritos I bought for lunch.
“From now on, Mallory and I will handle Farmer’s Market duty on our own,” I say, sitting on the couch and untying my skates. “Not that I didn’t enjoy showing off my hot boyfriend today.”
Asher looms over me, intimidating in his posture. I stare up at him and know what he wants, but I don’t offer my body for his ravishment.
“Do you want to watch TV?” I ask, messing with him.
Walking away, Asher disappears into my bedroom. I consider running after him, but instead wash my face in the kitchen sink and dump our food in the fridge for later. Mistress Beaver throbs with anticipation of what’s waiting for me in my bedroom. She can barely wait, but I simply stroll to the doorway as if I can’t be bothered with Asher’s sexy self.
“So much nudity,” I murmur upon finding Asher stretched out on my bed.
“I’d like to say the same about you, so get to it.”
“The poetic words of a romantic heart.”
Asher rolls onto his back and stretches out his arms. I swear he’s waiting for Mistress Beaver and the woman attached to her to do all the work.
Fortunately for him, I’m okay with his sexual demands.
“Do you need tiddlywinks after such a stressful trip to the Farmer’s Market?” I ask while sliding off my shirt to reveal my sweaty bra.
“I’ve wanted you on my dick since I showed up here.”
“Sounds about right,” I tease, still stripping down before I crawl onto the bed and my lips devour his.
Straddling his strong hips, I let my hands enjoy the hard ridges of his
chest. His fingers grip my nipples possessively.
“One day, you’ll skate in my bedroom buck naked,” Asher says as if stating a fact. “Do you understand?”
Squeezing his manhood in my hand, I maneuver its head to my already hot entrance. “I plan to ride you until I’m satisfied. Then we’ll switch positions, and you’ll take charge. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do, Miss Juniper Voss.”
I exhale a small grunt as his manhood forces me open. Submitting to his size, I can’t control my giant smile.
“You own me, Mr. Asher T. Ferrer. Heart, body, and soul,” I say and caress his jaw. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”
Asher’s hands possessively grip my breasts while our hips dance in perfect rhythm. I can’t take my eyes off his face still flushed from the earlier heat. He only sees me—not the room or Couch Potato eyeing us from nearby. Asher is completely and utterly blind to the world outside of our bodies working as one.
CH 25
❁ Junie❁
Disher suggests I won’t fear the view from Asher’s penthouse as much if I’m barefoot rather than skating. He swears exposure therapy will help me. When a person faces their phobias in short controlled bursts, they can build up a resistance to the feared stimuli. So I take his advice—grudgingly—and take off my skates during a visit to Asher’s place.
“Is it working?” Asher asks, fighting a smile when he finds me sitting on the floor next to the living room’s wall of windows
I smile back at him. “A little. I should probably stop looking straight down and instead focus on the outward view, but I can’t help wanting to see the edge of where the building ends and my death would begin.”
“These windows are as secure as possible.”
“And the stink of people at the Farmer’s Market is no threat to you. Rational thinking doesn’t particularly help when someone’s feeling irrational.”
“True,” Asher says, sitting next to me on the floor.
“Your place is growing on me, Ferrer. It reminds me of you, and we know how I feel about you.”
Asher wraps his arm around my waist and kisses my shoulder. He and I watch the world go by outside his windows.
