Asher (A Wesley Brothers Novel Book 3)

by Michelle Smith

  “You okay?” He asks me, looking down at me with those insanely sexy blue eyes and I fight myself from grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

  “Um, I’m fine, thanks.” I straighten myself and push off him gently, continuing around him. I hear the soft patter of his footsteps on the carpet behind me as I walk down the hall. I swear I can feel him staring at my ass while he’s back there but knowing my luck I’ll fall flat on my face if I try to sneak a glance to confirm. I veer left into the copy room and hear Ash pass by as he goes back to the conference room. I start in on the stack of papers and when I’m halfway through making copies, Ash and Mr. Meyers walk down the corridor. Mr. Meyers gives me a warm smile.

  “It was nice to meet you Kara. You have a wonderful afternoon.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Meyers. It was a pleasure to meet you, too. Enjoy your day.” Ash leads him away and I can hear the two of them still talking somewhere out in the lobby. I change out the paper in the copier for the next one and punch the button, but unlike the other times I’ve done this in the last few minutes, nothing happens.

  What the fuck?

  Why isn’t it working? I didn’t do anything differently. “Come on you fucker. Work for me.” I punch the button again—and again, nothing happens. I start pulling open compartments like I know what in the hell I’m looking for, hoping one of them shows an obvious cause to the problem, but nothing. I bend over and pull the last tray open—the one on the very bottom of the copier—but I still don’t see anything wrong.

  “Need some help?”

  The deep rumble of Ash’s voice startles me but doesn’t surprise me in the least. It figures he would walk in when I’m bent over at the waist, my ass facing the doorway where he stands.

  At the knees, Kara. Always bend at the knees.

  “How long have you been standing there?” I ask as I upright myself.

  “Since ‘come on you fucker.’” He laughs, and it brings a smirk to my face. “You need some help?”

  “Please. It was working fine a minute ago, but now it won’t start when I hit the button.” I demonstrate by punching the button again, and of course, the damn thing starts right up.

  “What in the hell,” I mutter to myself more than him. He comes to stand behind me, standing close, but not touching, as I look at the copy machine in confusion. His cologne surrounds me, his crisp, clean scent scrambling my senses.

  “Seems to be working fine now.” He steps in a little closer behind me, brushing up against my back as he peers over my shoulder at the machine. “Maybe it needed a minute to cool down.”

  “I can relate.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and I swear I need a gag around this man.

  Fuck. Now I’m thinking about gags. Now I’m thinking of gags and what it would be like to have him gag me with one.

  I’m not entirely put off by the idea.

  I really need to get a grip on my libido.

  His touch surprises me as he slides his finger up near my cheek, pulling my hair back off the side of my face and exposing my neck. My head tilts of its own accord, and he trails his finger down my cheek, behind my ear, and down my neck. My breath hitches when I hear him whisper in my ear, “So can I.”

  His hand continues a path over my shoulder and down my back, coming to rest gripping tight against my waist. My eyes close and I swallow hard, my breathing slightly erratic. I feel his other hand slide around to grip the other side of my hip and I almost melt at his touch, strong and firm, yet somehow gentle too. He leans in, his front pressing harder into my back, and he speaks softly in my ear again. “Wanna hear a secret?”

  I pull in a few ragged breaths before licking my lips and answering with a soft, “Yes.” I turn my head to the side and I can see him out of the corner of my eye. The wicked little smirk on his face causes a rush of warm heat straight to my core.

  He leans in again, his lips almost touching my earlobe this time. “On Monday, when you walked into my office? My first thought was how much I wanted to bend you over this very copy machine.”

  I’m stunned at his words, but so turned on I don’t really register the weight of them. A few days ago, we agreed to keep our encounters on a professional level but clearly something has changed since that time. At least for him it has. I never wanted to keep it professional to begin with.

  And this is clearly not a professional conversation.

  I’m not going to lie. I rather like this turn of events.

  “You did?” Somehow, those words are all I manage to come up with as a response, but I don’t care, because Ash’s tongue swipes across the sensitive spot under my ear and I’m speechless. It’s warm and wet and the heat of his breath causes me to break out in goosebumps all over. His hands tighten on my hips as he turns my body to face the copy machine.

  “I did.” His right hand drops off my hip, coming to rest at my lower back before he slides it upwards between my shoulder blades. “I wanted to stand here like this.” He pushes forward with his hand gently, and my body follows his lead, leaning forward until I’m forced to prop my arms onto the copy machine for support. “I wanted to bend you over like I’m doing now, Kara. I wanted to lift that pretty plum skirt you were wearing and see your sexy thong-covered ass again.”

  I swallow hard, waiting for his touch to slide lower over my ass, but it doesn’t come. Naturally, I thought that’s where this encounter was headed, but I guess I’m wrong. He doesn’t move his hand any lower and he certainly doesn’t lift my skirt.

  I’m highly disappointed.

  Ash sighs. “But I don’t want the first time we fuck for you to be bent over the copy machine.” He steps back, giving me some space, and helps me stand upright. Now would be a great time to ask what has made him change his mind about getting involved with me, but I’m still speechless from hearing him tell me he plans to fuck me. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

  His question surprises me. We’ve gone from nothing, to coworkers, to inappropriate—but welcomed—bending over copy machines, and now this? I’m so confused. Still, I have enough mental capacity to shake my head no. The only plans I had tonight were with Chinese food and a good movie.

  “Mr. Meyers is having a cocktail party tonight, and he invited us to stop by. I’d love to take you. Maybe we can go out afterwards, just you and me.” His smirk when he says it clearly implies what he’s thinking, and I couldn’t be more on board with it.

  But I can’t let him know that.

  I quirk my eyebrow up at him. “I thought you said we couldn’t get involved with each other?”

  “I did.”

  “And yet, you come in here, bend me over the copier, and ask me out on a date?”

  He shrugs his shoulders in a boyish way. “What can I say? I’m not really good at taking my own advice.” I watch as he steps back up to me, crowding my space again, but this time he shoves his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. He doesn’t have to ask for my gaze, because I can’t tear it away from him. “Come out with me tonight.”

  My brain tells me this is a bad idea.

  Other parts of my anatomy disagree.

  A smile pulls at my face at the thought. “I’d love to.”

  His smile matches mine. “Why don’t you finish those copies and head home early. Text me your address, and I’ll pick you up around six. Does that work for you?”

  “It’s perfect,” I tell him as he walks backwards toward the doorway.

  “Great. I’ll see you then.” Lingering for a second longer, I watch as Ash turns and leaves the copy room, heading back to his office.

  Turning to grab the next paper in the stack, I use it to fan my flaming cheeks.

  Asher Wesley just asked me out on a date.

  And told me he wanted to bend me over the copy machine.

  I can’t wipe the smile from my face.

  ***

  I've never cleaned so fast in my life.

  My house wasn't a total disaster—it never really is—but wh
en I left this morning I had no idea Ash would be coming over to pick me up. Even now, standing in front of my mirror doing one final check, I still can't believe it.

  As soon as I finished copying the last of the papers, I bound them into two files and left them in Ash's box on my desk, then raced home. I called Kendra on the way and she managed to calm me down long enough to get a plan together. I bounded up the outside steps two at a time, almost biting it on the last one but thankfully catching my balance in time to avoid face-planting on the floor. Nothing like an impromptu trip to the emergency room to kill the mood.

  I scrambled to put my morning dishes into the dishwasher and gather up wayward clothing to put in the hamper as soon as I walked in the door. A quick run of the vacuum and I was ready to move on to me.

  I jumped in the shower, making sure to shave all the necessary spots, in case this night turned out like I hoped—with the two of us tangled in the sheets together. I applied plenty of body butter to soften my skin, and quickly put on the dress I had already talked to Kendra about wearing. Luckily, I still had the sleek little black cocktail dress hiding in the back of my closet.

  I’m tugging it over my head when I hear a knock on the door and my heart skips in anticipation.

  Get ahold of yourself, Kara. It’s not the prom.

  Slipping my arms through the sleeves and straightening it out, I take a quick glance in the mirror and head to the front door, taking one last deep, calming breath before reaching for the handle and opening it.

  And holy shit, the sight before me is breathtaking.

  He stands in the doorway like some sort of dreamy book boyfriend in a romance novel. He’s changed out of his work suit into a pair of dark washed, almost black, jeans that hug him in all the right places. He’s wearing a dark charcoal grey half-button collarless shirt that clings to his chest and looks so soft, my fingers itch to touch it. Of course, I’d rather touch what’s underneath it, but I’m getting ahead of myself. He’s wearing a black blazer over it too, and with the belt and shoes, he looks good enough to eat.

  “Wow,” I say, before I can stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth, continuing my pattern of making a fool of myself in front of him. Oh well. He still wants me, so my filter issues can’t be too much of a problem, right?

  “I could say the same thing.” He scans my body from top to bottom, and back again. His gaze warms my skin under the lacy sleeves of my little black dress. “You look gorgeous.” He reaches for my hand, lifting it up to his lips and kissing the back of it. My skin tingles where his lips sear me.

  I smile and avert my gaze, letting my hair obscure part of my face, hoping Ash doesn’t see the blush creeping up my cheeks. “Thank you.” I meet his eyes again before I say, “I need to grab my shoes and bag, and I’ll be ready to go.”

  “No problem. I can come in and wait. We’ve got plenty of time.” He pushes off the door jam and swaggers his way past me into my apartment. The space, which is decent-sized, now feels small with his large frame standing in it. “Aren’t you going to give me the tour?”

  He smirks over at me, knowing the effect he has on me, but I’m determined to not let him see how much his mere presence undoes me.

  Damn, he’s good.

  “Sure. This is the living room, obviously,” I tell him, gesturing with a swipe of my hand across the room. It’s simple—brown soft leather sofa and matching chair with ottoman, a couple of lamps, and a small flat screen mounted to the wall, thanks to Kendra’s husband Stan.

  “Obviously,” he repeats, and I roll my eyes.

  “The kitchen is in there,” I point to the vicinity of the kitchen even though you can clearly see it through the open floorplan. I turn and start down my short hallway, and he follows behind me.

  “Bathroom,” I say, flipping on the switch as I walk by. I open the door to my spare bedroom filled with a mix-match of things and flip on the light there, too. “Spare bedroom.” He doesn’t say anything, only nods his head in acknowledgment, so I flip the light back off and move to the next door.

  My bedroom door.

  I’m about to show Asher Wesley my bedroom.

  Opening the door and walking in, the lights are already on because I ran out here when I heard him knock. “And this is my room.” I try not to make eye contact with him because the minute I do, he’ll see the blush on my cheeks and the desire in my eyes. I’d love nothing more than to skip this whole thing right now and push him down on the bed.

  “Bathroom’s in there. That’s it. It’s not much, but I like it, and it’s perfect for me.” I walk up to my shoes I already had laid out for me and step into one, then the other. He slides in behind me, and when I feel his body brush against mine, I almost stumble, but he wraps his arm around my waist to steady me.

  “Nice bed. I can’t wait to use it later.”

  My eyes flick over to my bed, my jaw drops, and I turn in his arms to face him. “A little presumptuous, aren’t we?” I ask, humor in my voice because I’m trying to be difficult. He and I both know he’s probably right.

  “Not at all.” He slips back away from me, putting some distance between us. “I prefer to call it confident. I have big plans for you later. Ones I think you’re gonna like.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, intrigued. “What kind of plans?” I ask hesitantly, but the smile on his face tells me I have nothing to worry about—and everything to worry about—all at once.

  “It’s a surprise. And good girls always wait for their surprises.”

  “Good girls? What, are you a dominant or something?” It’s a legitimate question. One I probably shouldn’t ask, but my filter doesn’t work around this man and I’m very curious now. I’ve only ever heard guys refer to their women as ‘good girls’ in those Dom/sub romance novels I like to read from time to time.

  Not that I’m his woman.

  But still.

  He laughs softly. “No, Kara. I may be dominant in the bedroom, but I’m not a dominant. I like to try new things and get a little kinky sometimes, and you happen to have the bed to accommodate that.” He nods to my king-sized four-poster bed. This is certainly not a conversation I ever expected to have about it when I splurged on it after my move here. “I might like a little bondage and some toys, but don’t worry. I’m not gonna cane your ass or anything.”

  He’s playing with me. Sassiness I didn’t realize I possessed comes to the surface. “What a shame.”

  He cocks his eyebrow at my remark; and I can’t help but smile. He studies me, his own smirk playing across his lips to match mine. “Are you saying you want me to cane your ass? Because I’m more into pleasure than pain, Kara, but I’m not adverse to trying it out if you are. In fact, I can call my friend—who is a dominant, by the way—and he can get me a cane by tonight.”

  All the bravado I had slips away along with the sassy smirk on my face. I can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but I get the feeling he’s telling me the truth. I swallow hard, the sound loud in the quiet room. He’s calling my bluff and fuck if I can think of anything to say to that. I shake my head slightly, the movement almost unnoticeable, but it doesn’t get past him.

  He notices.

  “I didn’t think so.” He places his hand at the small of my back and ushers me through the open bedroom door, but not before whispering low in my ear. “But if you’re a good girl tonight, I might tie you to the bed and fuck you later.”

  Chapter Five

  Asher

  "And that's because the P is silent!"

  Everyone around me breaks out in laughter at this guy's lame joke, and I join in too, despite the fact it really isn’t funny. If I don’t laugh, Mr. Meyers will think I don’t get the joke and I don’t want him to explain the punchline to me like he did with another lady earlier. It was almost painful to watch.

  Mr. Meyers and his wife Betsy are the only two people I know in attendance—besides Kara—but I've done my best to work the room and hand out as many business cards as I can. Events like these are always a
great way to drum up new business. It's the main reason Mr. Meyers invites me to his get-togethers. He was one of my first clients when I started this business, and he's always willing to help me network at his events.

  Even Kara's been working the room, and as helpful as it is, it's also driving me a little bit crazy. My eyes have followed her around the large space for the last hour and watching her move around in that dress is killing me. It's nothing fancy—a simple black cocktail dress with a lace-embellished collar and full length black lace sleeves. But while the dress itself isn't spectacular, the woman wearing it—and wearing it well, I might add—is. And I'm not the only one who notices.

  Every man in this room has eyes on her, and it doesn't go unnoticed that most of the cards she’s given out are to the men who approach her in anything but a business manner. But I'm not a jealous man.

  Usually.

  However, seeing her mingle with other men—while they shamelessly flirt with her—is testing my resolve. Right now, I want her by my side. If I’m wishing for things, what I really want is to get the hell out of here and get her back to her place, if only so we can take advantage of her king size bed with the four posts.

  I was forward with her earlier but fuck, I want her bad and I needed her to know it. I've never been one to be shy about what I've wanted, and I wasn't about to start with her. She's an itch I’m longing to scratch, no matter how much of a bad idea it is.

  Thinking back to the conversation we had in her room before we left causes a smirk to pull at my lips. The look on her face when I told her I'd cane her ass was priceless. Truth is, I've done a lot of things of a sexual nature, but never that. I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't into pain. For me, it's all about pleasure—the more pleasure I can give, the more pleasure I get out of it. And right now, I want to give as much as I can to Kara. It’s all I’ve thought about since the moment she showed up in my office. If I’m being honest, probably since she first flashed me her ass in the coffee shop parking lot.