All The Lies

by Kent, Rina

  Maybe that’s why his rejection hurts the most.

  It hurts to have him hate me so much.

  He kneels in front of my face, grasping his hard cock with both hands. “You’ll finish what you started.”

  I gulp, eyeing him carefully. “I thought you said I was manipulating you—why would you want me to finish?”

  “Because you’ll be doing it on my terms.” He pushes the crown against my lips; it’s dripping with pre-cum. “Open.”

  I don’t.

  If I do, this moment will be over.

  Everything will be.

  For a second, I just watch him: his perfect abs, the tattoos snaking along his shoulders, and the somber shadow covering his features. It’s lust and something else I can’t recognize.

  He lies down on his side so his cock is in my face and his naked, hard body is glued to my front.

  “Open. That. Mouth.” There’s so much authority in his tone, so much…masculinity.

  Sure, I can resist him, but it’s completely useless at this point. It’s the same as resisting myself, and the meeting with the detective, I can’t deal with that.

  I part my lips and take him inside, using my hand to direct the pace.

  Small sounds slip out from the back of my throat when he lets me bring him to pleasure. This time, he doesn’t interfere. He lets me control the pace, sucking him as I see fit.

  If possible, he hardens further in my mouth. I can’t get enough of having him like this.

  I can’t get enough of having him all to myself.

  Just when I’m about to pick up the pace, a hot wet tongue licks me from the base to the top of my clit.

  I gasp around his cock, a full-body shudder going through me.

  Holy shit. That feels so good.

  He does it again, and I clench, thinking I’ll come from that sensation alone.

  “Who told you to stop?” He speaks against my sensitive folds as his finger teases my entrance.

  He thrusts his tongue into my opening, going in and out of me.

  My eyes roll to the back of my head. Pleasure hums underneath the surface, threatening to sweep me under.

  I battle against the sensation building inside me while trying to suck him as hard and deep as he’s doing to me.

  His tongue thrusts in and out of me with relentless urgency that turns me boneless. He teases my clit with his thumb, sending jolts of pleasure through me.

  “Fuck,” he grunts against my hypersensitive skin. “You taste like sweet torture.”

  My only answer is a moan around his dick. Tingles take over my limbs and I know I’m close…so freaking close.

  So I lick and nibble and suck on his cock as hard as I can.

  I want to bring him what he brings me.

  I want him to be swept away, too.

  But most of all, I want him to forgive me.

  The wave hits me so suddenly. One moment, I’m getting lost in him, and the next, I’m right in the middle of a storm.

  I cry out against his cock, my skin prickling and stiffening. Arousal coats my thighs, and I know he can feel it against his tongue.

  The intimacy nearly kills me.

  “Break for me,” he murmurs against my folds. “Soak me.”

  His words magnify the force of my orgasm. It goes on and on until I think it won’t ever stop.

  “Open that mouth wider.” He thrusts his hips against my lips, and I do as I’m told.

  He pounds a few times before he tenses inside me, and then his cum covers my tongue, my lips, and drips on either side of my mouth and down my neck.

  I’m panting, too spent to think or do anything.

  Asher isn’t done, though.

  His cock glides out of my mouth as he pulls me up to face him. We’re kneeling on the bed, facing one another.

  My eyes are droopy, but I can almost see the change on his face, the slip, the…affection.

  Before I can analyze it further, his lips collide with mine in a harsh, punishing kiss.

  They’re firm and rough, his lips, all-powerful like the rest of him. A rush of desire grips me when I meet his tongue with mine.

  He tastes like me.

  And I taste just like him.

  My fingers thread in his thick strands as I kiss him back with a ferocity that matches mine.

  Asher wrenches our lips apart, breathing harshly against my mouth.

  “Why the fuck are you kissing me back, Reina?” he breathes against my mouth.

  “I’m not supposed to?” I ask, confusion forming a cloud over my head.

  “You never do, and you never get on your knees or suck me off.” He briefly closes his eyes. “I don’t know what the fuck to do with you anymore.”

  And with that, he grabs his clothes and walks out of the room.

  The bitter taste of rejection explodes in my throat, but I don’t give in to it. There’s still hope.

  He’ll forgive me.

  I will make him.

  A week passes and I’m already adjusting to my position on the team.

  It’s not easy being a captain. It’s a big responsibility, and some of these girls look at me as if I’m their savior or something.

  It’s not that I have a problem being someone’s savior. It’s more like I can’t—not when I don’t even know how to save myself.

  I’m glad to have Lucy and Naomi with me. Scratch Naomi, she still has that passive-aggressive attitude, but mostly, she’s good.

  Bree is the one who has been giving me the cold shoulder since the incident in the cafeteria. Whenever I decide something at practice, she doesn’t hesitate to point out that we don’t do that, that she and the team still remember even if I forgot.

  I put her in her place every time. I even had a one-on-one talk with her to tell her to stop challenging my decisions in front of the team.

  The squad wants to go to state, and while I didn’t care much for that before, now I’m invested in their competitive spirit. Until I find my dream, I’ll make theirs come true.

  The girls wave on their way out of the shower. I’m late because I had to talk to the football coach about the schedule of the upcoming games.

  Next Friday will be the first game I won’t watch from afar. I’ll be an acting captain who’ll be thrown to the top.

  To say I’m nervous would be the understatement of the century. I always think I’ll trip and fall or do a wrong move and embarrass the entire squad.

  No pressure. It’s only a home game with a few thousand spectators.

  Thousands of people watching.

  Yup. No problem falling in front of them. Like, at all.

  Lucy is the last to exit the showers.

  “I’ll wait for you outside,” she says while fixing her makeup.

  “You don’t have to.” I remove my shoes. “I’ll catch a ride with Asher.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

  Never is more like it.

  Unless I absolutely have to see him, I don’t go near Asher. Since that day he brought me to orgasm; I might have been avoiding the shit out of him.

  However, Lucy is having dinner with her dad, and I don’t want to keep her. She won’t leave if she thinks I don’t have a ride.

  “So, what’s going on between the two of you?” She leans against the locker as I sit on the bench, removing my second shoe.

  “Nothing much.” I try to be nonchalant, but it’s an epic failure.

  My body catches fire at the memories of that night.

  I might have avoided him, but I watch him whenever he’s not paying attention. I watch him work out by the pool, his muscles glistening with sweat and his tendons bulging.

  I watch his silence that has a million meanings.

  I watch his words that are always precise.

  How would it be if things were different? If I hadn’t hurt him somehow?

  “Luce, how were Asher and I before?”

  “Aside from being king and queen?” She laughs.

  “Do you
really believe we were like that?”

  She’s silent for a second. “You looked like it from the outside.”

  “But we weren’t on the inside.”

  She winces.

  “Luce…” I stand and look into her eyes imploringly. “Be honest with me. I need to know about my life.”

  “Well, you know those Hollywood couples?”

  “What about them?”

  “They’re so aesthetically pleasing and look like they have it all, but deep down, they’re usually plagued with all types of issues. At the end of the day, most of them are just an image.”

  Her words strike me deep.

  An image.

  Why would Asher and I keep up an image? If we didn’t want the marriage, I’m sure our fathers would’ve canceled it.

  Why did we choose to be fake instead?

  “I’m so sorry, Captain. Are you angry?” She sounds so guilty and apologetic, and it warms my heart.

  “Not at all. I asked you to tell me the truth.”

  She smiles tentatively. “If it’s of any value, you two have changed since your accident.”

  “Even Asher?” I hate the hope in my tone.

  “Even Asher.” She grins mischievously. “He looks at you differently, you know.”

  “Differently how?”

  “Like he can’t wait to get you alone.”

  I hit her shoulder jokingly. “You’re being silly.”

  She laughs, grabbing her bag. “I mean it. He hasn’t been this involved with anything since Arianna’s death.”

  “Wait—Arianna, as in his sister?”

  Izzy told me she passed away, but she has refused to tell me anything else no matter how much I probe her. All I know is that Asher’s sister died in an accident.

  My instinct tells me Arianna’s death might explain some things about Asher.

  “Yeah,” Lucy says.

  “What do you know about her?”

  “Not much. She didn’t belong to our circle. Asher didn’t want her to be part of the cheerleading squad.”

  “Why not?”

  She lifts a shoulder. “You’re the one who should know that. You were the closest to her.”

  My mouth hangs open. “I was?”

  “Arianna always followed you around like you were her god. You were like best friends—aside from Bree.”

  Oh.

  And I don’t remember her.

  How can I be so…cruel?

  “How about Asher?” I ask, the words strained and choked. “How was his relationship with her? Were they close?”

  “More than close. He was like her brother, her mother, and her father all rolled into one. Unlike you, she wasn’t popular and didn’t have friends, so she relied on the two of you so much. Whenever you sat down, she’d sit with you two. Whenever you went out, she’d go with you like a third wheel. She was kind of clingy, if you ask me.”

  “Hey,” I scold. “She’s dead.”

  “I’m just saying. It must’ve been a pain to not have your moments with Asher in peace.”

  “What do you know about her death?”

  “Nothing much.” She lifts her shoulder. “During our senior year in high school, we all found out she killed herself, and that was it.”

  “K-killed herself? I thought it was an accident.”

  Lucy leans closer. “That’s what the Carson family has been saying, but you told us back then she killed herself and that it was horrific.”

  “Did I tell you why she did it?”

  “No.” Lucy’s expression shifts. “Arianna was so lonely, so none of us were surprised she ended her life, you know.”

  No. I don’t know.

  Why would a seventeen-year-old kill herself? She had Asher and me—why didn’t we help her?

  After saying goodbye, Luce slips out the door, leaving me all alone with my jumbled thoughts.

  Arianna was so much more than I thought.

  She wasn’t just Asher’s sister; she was my friend, too, and I feel like a failure for forgetting about her and the circumstances of her death.

  With those thoughts, I strip and step into the shower.

  Water beats down on me, cool and soothing, but my heart won’t stop punching so hard against my ribcage.

  That gloomy cloud hangs over my head like a sinister promise.

  If I don’t do something about it, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.

  A rustle sounds behind the door, and I startle.

  “W-who’s there?”

  The door to the shower swings open and I shriek.

  Asher stands at the entrance with a dark look on his face.

  My world tilts off balance as I stare up into Asher’s eyes. Those dark, dark eyes.

  They’re not even looking at me—they’re staring right through me.

  My body.

  My heart.

  My soul.

  The smarter plan would be to hide from his hungry gaze or kick him out.

  I don’t.

  I continue staring at him as his penetrating gaze trails a path from my face to my breasts and down to my clenched thighs.

  It’s like his hands are roaming all over my skin, touching me, manhandling me, pulling me closer, crushing me into him.

  My lower lip trembles at the mere thought. I’m so glad the water is beating down on me or my reaction to my own imagination would be so obvious.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” I breathe over the tangible tension in the air.

  His eyes finally slide back to my face, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a smirk. “Is that so?”

  Is he…flirting right now?

  He steps into the shower. He’s wearing a black T-shirt and jeans.

  I move back. The shower stall is too small to fit us both. He reaches a hand up and I gulp, my heart almost jumping out of my chest.

  He flips the knob behind me, turning the water off. I’m all naked and wet while he’s fully clothed.

  That’s unfair.

  “What are you doing, Ash?” My voice is just above a murmur.

  A part of me thinks he’ll douse me with water like he did the other time, but the other part? That part wants him to take me against the wall.

  He places a finger on my lips. “Shhh.”

  The mere contact makes my skin hyperaware of him, everything about him—his presence, that subtle sandalwood scent, the way his hair falls on his forehead.

  Everything about him pushes my buttons. I’m so helplessly drawn to him it’s becoming stupid.

  His thumb skids across my lower lip and I willingly part them. He trails a path to my cheek, leaving tingles in his wake.

  It’s like he’s fascinated with the act of touching me, like he can’t believe he’s actually doing it.

  The thing is, when he thinks I’m not paying attention, Asher watches me, too. Late at night, he stays right under my window as if he can see through the curtains.

  He works out near the pool where I always study.

  Even if he doesn’t have classes, he won’t leave campus unless I do.

  “You’re driving me fucking crazy, prom queen,” he growls, gripping me harshly by the nape.

  I wrap my arms around his neck. “You drive me crazy, too.”

  Something flashes in his eyes, something feral and out of control, and then his lips crush to mine.

  Asher doesn’t kiss; he stakes his claim. It’s all passionate and heated like he can’t get enough of me, like kissing me is the sole purpose of his existence.

  My back hits the wall and I moan into his mouth. I climb up his body, wrapping my legs around his waist.

  Even though he’s clothed, I can feel the heat radiating off him. It’s so similar to the scorching fire going through me.

  The passion.

  The madness.

  It’s funny how I used to think Asher was cold. He’s certainly not right now.

  He’s so warm, it’s unfair.

  “Fuck.” He yanks his lips away from mine as if he
doesn’t want to do this, like it pains him to kiss me.

  He doesn’t move away, though. His mouth is close to mine as his chest rises and falls with harsh, uneven breaths.

  “What the fuck are you doing to me, Reina?”

  I’m panting, my starved lungs begging for breath. “I don’t know.”

  “Is that so?” There’s no contempt in his tone; it’s more like resignation than anything.

  “I really don’t.”

  “But I do.” He darts his mouth to brush my lips. “Still, I can’t stop fucking touching you…can’t stop looking at you…can’t stop obsessing over you. When one of your asshole teammates lifts you in the air, I want to break their arms.”

  My heart skips a beat. I didn’t know he was watching me that closely.

  Before I can say anything, his lips go back to feasting on mine. Little noises and moans escape me.

  I don’t want to stop them.

  Or stop him.

  He pushes his pelvis against me and his hardness pokes at the sensitive flesh of my thigh.

  “Do you see what you fucking do to me?” he grunts before he bites down on my lower lip.

  “Ash…”

  “It’s.” Bite. “Asher.”

  “Oh, God.”

  I rub against his erection, needing friction. Something, anything.

  I’m kissing him this time, my fingers pulling at his hair as he keeps me in place by my nape.

  “And you’re kissing me.” He closes his eyes as if he’s drunk on the feeling. “Fuck how you kiss me.”

  I take that as a compliment and push my tongue against the roof of his mouth.

  His clutch tightens on my nape, but he doesn’t stop me.

  He drags his clothed cock up and down my core, dry humping me.

  My eyes flutter closed at the sensation. It’s like the world only exists in the space between us.

  I can feel myself on him even though he’s clothed. I can feel how thrusting his hips into me makes him kiss me harder and faster, like this is some sort of race.

  My head turns dizzy, but I meet him kiss for kiss, stroke for stroke.

  I want him.

  God, how I want him.

  And it’s not only his body. I want his heart.

  I want his forgiveness.

  I want all of him.

  The wave builds in intensity at the bottom of my stomach. It’s like a waterfall I’m about to fall over.