by Jade Sinner
“And have you been that for him?”
“Yes.”
“Do you love him?”
I don’t have to think about my answer. “Yes.”
“Like a brother?” Kathy asks.
I take a sip of my coffee. “I don’t know how to define it anymore.”
Instead of looking at my friends' expressions, I turn toward my phone, the screen silently lighting up. I usually mute it during work.
I swipe the screen.
Text message from Ashton:
Hey. Dinner? Pizza my place or out?
I'm waiting for Jess's text message like a high school kid. Fuck, I've never waited like that, even when I was in high school. Not even for her.
Why?
Because back then, I knew she'd respond. She always did.
Why the fuck am I nervous about it now?
Did I think she'd really let me down? I didn't want to think she would.
And then it happens. The simple chime and there it is, on my screen.
Text messaged from Jess:
Sounds great. Your place sounds good. Not pizza. Grill?
Later that night, I have it all set. The steaks marinating and ready to pop on the grill, charcoal warming, and wine chilling in the refrigerator. The small table on my balcony is set with two place settings and there is even a candle in a jar.
It is as I stand half in my apartment and half on the balcony that I realize the pansy I've become. A candle. I have a fucking candle on the table. The grocery store had them on a center thingy. It seemed like a good idea. Now it doesn't. Now it screams desperate.
Fuck!
As I run my hand through my hair, I console myself with the thought that at least I didn't buy flowers.
I glance down at my button-down shirt, the way I have the sleeves rolled, and my jeans hanging loosely from my hips. How and why am I nervous?
When the fuck have I ever been nervous?
This is Jess, my Jess. We've had dinner together thousands of times.
Shaking my head, I decide I should change into shorts and a t-shirt when a knock on the front door stops me.
I don't even look through the peephole. I know who I want to have on the other side. And damn it, I'm Ashton Michaels. I need to get my shit together. If I want this thing with Jess to be more than our agreement, if I want Jess to see me as more than a friend, then I need to act like the man who's been sweeping chicks off their feet for over ten years. Not like some lovesick schoolboy.
I take a deep breath and open the door, flashing my biggest and brightest smile.
"Jess..."
My lips slam shut. It's not Jess. It's Miss Tits and Ass.
"W-what are you doing here?"
She takes a step forward, her perfume engulfing me as she shakes her tits, barely encased in some tight, stretchy top. I fight to breathe over the overwhelming stench of sweetness while noticing how the skinny straps of her top seem to dig into her shoulders. Poor things. No little bit of material should be expected to support such huge—and fake—tits.
"Ashton, if Muhammad won't come to the mountain"— she sticks her mountains of tits out—"then the mountain must come to Muhammad."
"I thought I made it clear at the gym."
One more step and her hands are on my chest. "You said you might be seeing someone. I'm here. I see you." Her brows rise. "You can see me." She splays her fingers over my chest. "I want to see more of you."
"No."
Miss Tits and Ass takes a step back, a wounded puppy, but instantly she's back, her plump lip extended in a pout. "Come on, Ashton. I want you to fuck me. I'm not asking for anything more..."
Just then, the door at the bottom of the stairs opens, the one that accesses all the apartments in this unit. The gush of fresh air thankfully whisks away the cloud of perfume.
"Damn, that smells..." Jess's words fade and her feet stop as she approaches the stairs. "Did I have the wrong night?"
Miss Tits and Ass stands taller and scans Jess from head to toe.
Jess is radiant and completely the opposite of Miss Tits and her high heels and tight dress. Jess's hair is pulled back in a ponytail that hangs low on her back. Her sundress is simple yet sexy. I know Jess, and I know that her wearing a dress took as much effort as my wearing the button-up shirt.
We're both trying.
And that makes me grin.
"Her? You're choosing her over me?" Miss Tits and Ass asks.
Jess doesn't move or speak as she stands a flight of stairs below and watches the scene unfold.
"Jess, come on up," I call. "Yes"—I start to say Miss Tits and Ass's name, but I can't remember what it is—"I told you. I'm seeing someone. Go find someone else to occupy your free night."
With a huff and a spin, Miss Tits and Ass walks down the stairs—stomps—keeping her head high leaving a sickening trail of perfume as she goes down the stairs.
As she approaches, Jess smiles and cocks her head to the side. "Bye-bye now."
It's polite and bitchy all at the same time and why I adore my best friend.
Once the door shuts at the bottom of the stairs, Jess says, "If you're seeing someone else tonight, I can go."
Leaning on the side of the doorjamb, I shake my head. "Get your ass up here."
Her cheeks rise as she climbs the steps. "Now who's bossy?"
Once she reaches me, I pull her inside, and just like I did that Thursday night, I shut the door and pin her against the wall. My chest is against hers and her nipples bead under the light fabric. "Me," I say, with all the innocence I'm not feeling. My smile and dick begin to grow. "You're right. I'm bossy and you like it."
Through the light fabric, her heartbeat quickens in time with mine.
"Tell me."
"What?" Jess asks.
"Tell me you like it."
"What if I don't?"
"What if I lift this skirt and finger your pussy? Will I find you like it?"
Her eyes blink, slower than normal, as her little pink tongue darts to her lip and disappears again. "I think you should find out on your own."
Fuck!
Lifting the skirt while simultaneously sliding my hand under the waist of her panties, I groan as my touch is met with warm honey. She's wet, and by the way she clenches around me combined by the sweet sound of a soft moan, she likes it.
She likes it a lot.
"I want you. I want to take you right now and make you mine. I want to fuck you until you're delirious from cumming too many times. And then I'll feed you, because I've totally depleted your energy and you're mine to care for. I fucking want that."
"Ash..." she says, gripping my shoulders as I continue to finger fuck her, her knees moving with my rhythm.
Keeping her pinned against the wall, I lift her chin with my other hand, bring her lips to mine, and kiss her hard. It's possessive and primal. As my tongue probes her sweet, moist mouth and my fingers plunge inside her warm, tight cunt, I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be. "Jess, this new agreement—it's not working for me."
Her eyes open wide, questioning.
"I want more," I clarify. "For the first time in my life, I'm turning down string-free sex. My thoughts are filled with only you. I want you in my bed. I want you in my life. I don't want you to be only my best friend, but at the same time, I don't want to lose that. I want more."
I remove my fingers from her pussy and lick her sweet cum.
When our eyes meet, I continue, "Nothing I have planned for dinner can compare to how fucking great you taste."
When she glances toward the floor, my confidence begins to falter. "Jess, what is it?"
She looks back to me and in her green eyes are tears, each drop breaking my heart.
"When I walked in and saw that woman here, I remembered you. I remembered who you are and who you have always been. I love you, Ash. I always have. Our friendship works because we have always accepted each other, faults and all."
I stiffen my shoulders. "I have faults?"
"You h
ave faults," she confirms. "And I've never had a problem with them, but I can't...not after what Jack did. Not ever. I can't be with someone who would cheat on me."
With the pad of my thumb, I wipe away a big fat tear that's rolling down her cheek. "Jess, I've never cheated on anyone. I've never been in a relationship. I've never wanted to be. Different women, different girls...hell, it was just what I wanted until I got a taste of something much sweeter." I lift one cheek to give her my lopsided grin. "And honey, you are as sweet as it comes."
"More? What exactly are you saying?"
"I want all of you. I want"—I can barely believe the words I'm saying—"us. I want to wake up and fall asleep with you. I want to piss you off and make up. I want to taste your honey-sweet cum and I want you to suck my dick. I want to fuck every one of your holes and fill you with my cum and one day, I want to watch as your belly grows with my baby inside of it."
With each of my statements, Jess's eyes widen.
"What if," she asks, "after Jack, I'm not ready?"
"Then I'll wait. As long as you let me do all the other stuff, starting today."
She shakes her head. "Ashton, are you really talking forever. You said you never wanted that."
"I didn't realize what I was missing until I almost lost you to that asshole. Who better to live the rest of my life with, to spend my forever with, than my best friend?"
Her serious expression breaks into a smile, yet the tears continue to fall. "When?"
"Now or in five years. Jess, it's up to you."
She shrugs. "I know of this reception hall that's booked for two weeks from now. Are you free?"
I drop to my knees. "Jessica Anderson, I never thought I'd propose. I never thought I'd want to. I don't have a ring, but I can get one. I am proposing. I want to. I want a new agreement with you. I want you to agree to forget about the last name of Anderson and become Jessica Michaels, but only if you'll agree to forever."
She nods.
"And one more thing," I say, "that reception hall is fine, but only for a party. Next weekend you, Paul, Jean, any of your brothers or sisters, my parents and my brothers and sisters, we all get on a plane and we say I do on some beach. Honey, I'll take that asshole's party, but this will be our wedding."
Jess reaches down and frames my cheeks just before she pulls me upward. Once I'm standing, she brings my lips to hers. When we finally break away, she says, "I do."
"Aren't you supposed to save that for the ceremony?"
She shakes her head. "I do—like it when you're bossy."
"Good, because I'm going to take off this pretty little dress and claim the one part of my best friend that will be only mine."
"Ash?"
I kiss her again. "No arguing, honey, it was in the fine print of that agreement that you said yes to. I get all of you, from this day forth."
Instead of reaching for her dress, she begins to unbutton the front of my shirt. "Only after I get to suck that monster cock."
Fuck...ok, she can be bossy, too.
I'm balancing on my hands and knees in the middle of our bed. With each passing second, my anticipation builds.
"Don't turn around." My muscles tense and my skin sensitizes. I don't know what he has planned, not for sure, but by the way Ashton's deep voice bounces off the walls and echoes deep into my core, I know I want it.
This is his place—the bedroom—where Ashton wants to be the boss, and where I don't mind letting him.
The bed shifts with his weight and I fight to turn around to see his sexy body, wide shoulders, and monster cock. But I don't. I let him think he's in control as I close my eyes and inhale.
Musk and cologne fill my senses. It takes all of my control to remain still as his fingers trace my spine. Hot and cold, my skin ignites with his touch and chills at its loss. His touch moves lower.
"Damn, Jess, you're dripping with cum and I haven't even touched you," he says.
He has, just not where I want him to, but I don't say that as his tongue laps my folds. I can't. Words don't form as I wiggle toward him.
"No, honey," Ashton reprimands, yet the smirk in his tone lets me know he's loving every minute.
"Please."
"Please what?" he asks as he palms my ass, pulling me higher on my knees.
"Please, fuck me."
"Oh, honey, I'm going to fuck you. I'm just enjoying seeing how wet I can make you with nothing more than my words and a quick brush of my tongue."
My face falls to the pillows below. He's right. I'm dripping. My thighs are slick and my pussy can't help but clench. "I can't help it. I can't wait for what's coming."
"What's cumming, honey, is my dick and be warned, it's a monster."
I brace myself as the cool lubricant oozes over my tight hole. We've only been married for a month, and beginning the night I agreed to his proposal, he's done what he said. Not every time, but fucking my ass is definitely one of his favorite things. Actually, my ass, pussy, mouth...no matter where, he makes it good—no, great.
A lubricated finger pushes past the tight ring of muscles as a finger and thumb find the right spot inside my pussy. I can't stop the whine as he rubs my clit, winding me up, yet not letting me get all the way.
"Please," I say again. "Damn it, Ashton."
His laugh tickles my skin as the head of his cock pushes against my tight hole.
"Tell me you want this."
"I don't," I lie. "I want to cum."
"Oh, honey, you'll cum. I promise."
I suck in a breath as he pushes into me. The stretch is almost more than I can handle, and then, all at once, he's caressing my clit, rubbing and pinching until that's where my concentration is focused. The pressure is building.
"Push back, take me."
I do as he says. The way his fingers stroke and pull is heaven and the fullness of his cock is exactly the pressure I need.
"Oh, Ash...you're so big."
"I know, honey, relax, take me."
"I-I..."
I'm moving with his fingers, riding his monster cock.
"That's it, you're fucking me. You're doing it."
I am. I'm riding him.
The intensity builds as I push and pull, higher and higher until my entire body tenses.
"That's it. Cum, Jess, cum for me."
My elbows give out as I explode, yelling his name. A few more thrusts and Ashton collapses on top of me with a deep growl. My hair is moved aside as kisses pepper my neck and cheek and his cum fills my ass. "You're so fucking fantastic, Jess, my Jess. I love cumming inside of you."
When he pulls out, I roll over.
With a grin, I stare into his soft blue eyes and know there's nothing about this man, about my husband and my best friend that will ever hurt me. "You're doing it wrong," I say.
His brows rise. "I am?"
I nod, our noses rubbing. "Yeah, we're not going to have a baby if you keep cumming in my ass."
Ashton roles off of me and reaches for my hand. "How about a shower and I'll try again?"
"Now that's an agreement I can agree to."
Because we LOVE our readers, Jade Sinner wants to share 2 secrets with you before they go public:
The unrevealed cover of
Panty Dropper
Shh … just our little secret for now.
Excerpt of Panty Dropper
A Reckless Story
Publishing July 28th
“Ryan.”
I hear a woman saying my name but I can’t open my eyes. Both lids weigh a ton. Hard as I try, I just can’t make the fuckers open.
“Is it normal for him to be so groggy?”
I recognize my mom’s voice and hear the worry in her tone. What is going on? Why am I so sleepy? And why the hell can’t I open my eyes?
“Nothing’s wrong. He’s only been out of surgery fifteen minutes. Some people are slower than others to wake up after anesthesia.”
Oh, right. I had surgery on my fucked-up shoulder. At least it’s not hurting.
>
“Ryan, I need to get your vital signs again.”
Again? Guess I’ve been out cold; I don’t remember having my blood pressure taken at all.
My upper arm is squeezed tightly and then released. “Ry … annn. Think you can wake up and look at me?”
The woman’s voice is soft and sweet, very much like a little girl’s. And so familiar. Makes me want to try harder to open my eyes so I can see her.
I successfully peek through one and then both eyes after several attempts. My vision is blurry, so I blink a few times to bring the woman into focus.
“Hey there. Looks like someone is trying to wake up.”
I’m sleepy as fuck but I fight to keep my eyes open so I can make out the woman’s face. “My name’s Ash. I’m your recovery room nurse.”
Her long honey-blonde hair has fallen forward and is acting as a veil to hide her face as she leans over me. I want so badly to push it away so I can see what she looks like. I wonder if she has an angel’s face to go along with that soft-spoken voice.
“Assh.” My tongue is still thick from anesthesia so her name comes out slurred and sounding more like Ass. Even sedated, I know that’s not great.
She giggles before tossing her hair over her shoulder so she can look at me. “Do you need something?”
I blink again to bring her face into focus. Porcelain skin. Rosy cheeks. I don’t know if I’m still disoriented from the anesthesia or not but I can’t give her eye color a name. They’re a peculiar mix of green and brown with golden flecks. Hazel, I think? “You…are…beautiful.” Wow. I was thinking that—and then poof—the words came tumbling out of my mouth.
Her expression changes to one I can’t place. Maybe a cross between concentration and confusion? “They must have given you some good drugs in surgery.”
“No, honey, that’s my son all the time. I’m not the least bit shocked he’s barely awake after anesthesia and already flirting with a pretty girl.”
OK. I can’t be hallucinating if my mom said that. “See? She thinks you’re pretty too. And she hasn’t had drugs.” I’ll be glad when I can hold my eyes open for more than a few seconds so I can get a better look at her.
