by T. K. Leigh
I face Asher, grinning. “You definitely deserve to be punished.”
He twists toward me, his hungry eyes skating over my chest before meeting my gaze. “Is that right?”
My voice is husky as I lean closer, my breath dancing against his mouth. “Oh, that’s right.”
His jaw clenches so hard I’m confident it’ll lock in place. I edge closer still, his body growing more and more rigid with each painful second that passes. When I’m a whisper away from his lips, I pause. All it would take would be a flick of the tongue and I’d have my first taste. But as much as I want that, I want this more. The knowledge that I drive this man to the brink of all reason.
Abruptly pulling back, I extend my hand toward him, grinning. “Better roll the dice.”
His eyes are a pool of desire and lust as they bore holes into the fiber of my being. He’s never looked at me with such unabashed desperation. Such primal craving. It’s the way every woman wants a man to look at her. Like he can’t go another minute without crushing my body to his, our souls intertwining, never to separate again.
“Very well.” Not looking anywhere else, he slowly reaches toward my outstretched hand. His fingers tease the flesh of my palm, tracing a light circle against it before scooping up the dice.
I exhale the breath I was holding, my teeth chattering as I sink back into the couch, needing it to support me. Then he abruptly erases the distance between us. My heart catches in my throat, swallowing my gasp.
“But if this bottle lands on you, I’d be hard-pressed to call that a punishment.” He’s shameless as he drinks me in, starting with my dark eyes, along my lips, down my neck, settling for several long beats on my chest. “More like a reward.” I grow lightheaded as he nears, breath by excruciating breath. “A very…” He brings his finger up to my mouth, and I plump out my bottom lip. “Very…” His touch skims my jawline and toward my ear, pushing my hair over one shoulder.
When he dips toward me, his heat skates along my neck and I fist the cushion below me, needing something, anything, to keep me grounded when I’m certain I’m about to blast off into oblivion. I don’t even care that Chloe and Lincoln are witnessing this very public, very erotic exchange. We’re in a bubble. There are no rules. No tomorrow. Just right now. And right now, I want more of Asher’s words.
“Welcome reward,” he finishes, pausing before retreating. I shoot my wide eyes to his, my chest heaving in labored pants like I’d just run a marathon in under two hours, setting a world record. “Two can play this game, Izzy.”
Acting as unaffected as always, he refocuses his attention on the game, shifting empty beer bottles off the coffee table to make room for the dice. I attempt to fight the blush warming my cheeks, but I fear, even in the relative darkness, it’s obvious. Chloe catches my eye, grinning slyly. I return her raised brow with one of my own, the two of us holding an entire conversation without saying a single word.
When Asher rolls, I turn my attention to him, unusually invested in the outcome. A part of me wants the dice to land on KISS and LIPS, then the bottle to stop on me so he can finish what he started. But I have a feeling even a kiss won’t be enough to extinguish the fire burning inside me. Seeing him last night sparked the embers that had been crackling for years. Not even the most skilled of firefighters could extinguish this flame.
The dice come to a stop, and we all lean forward to peer in the darkness, cheers and whistles erupting when we see BITE and EAR displayed prominently.
“I bet Asher really knows how to bite an ear.” Chloe playfully nudges Lincoln.
Maintaining his air of mystery, his expression remains even as he curves toward her. He brushes her hair behind her ear and whispers something. What I wouldn’t give to be a fly circling them. But the raw electricity coming off their bodies would zap it in a heartbeat.
I can’t quite figure out what it is about him that has Chloe turning into putty when she’s spent the past decade remaining detached from every man who showed even a modicum of interest. All I know about him is he’s a lawyer, and surprisingly also lives in Manhattan. Oh, and that a cat put a cockblocking curse on him.
But the fact that she knows so little about him doesn’t seem to matter to her. Maybe all that stuff is inconsequential. Maybe the past doesn’t matter. Maybe all that does is the connection. The chemistry. The electricity. Like I told Asher earlier.
“Well, let’s see who the winner is.” Asher swipes the bottle off the table and spins. It slides and skitters before slowing, our eyes following its journey until it finally comes to a stop.
On me.
I stare at the bottle, trying to silence my libido, who’s shaking her pom-poms and doing a victory lap around the field.
“Well then. I guess it’s time I serve my sentence.”
Heat blooms on my cheeks as I slowly face him. “I guess it is.” I pick at the label on my beer bottle, failing miserably at keeping my cool now that I’m seconds away from feeling Asher’s mouth on my skin in something much more intimate that a chaste kiss on my forehead.
“I’ll take that.” The throaty timbre of his voice causes my stomach to clench, my thighs involuntarily squeezing together. A puppet to whatever he commands, I allow him to take the bottle from me and place it on the table. “Now, where were we?”
When he curves toward me, every muscle tightens, my body turning to stone. I can’t remember how to breathe, the promise of this man nibbling on my ear sending lust shooting through my veins. I try to tell myself it’s due to the lack of intimacy in my life lately. Or the beers I’ve consumed. Or because we’re stuck in a blackout in a city notorious for encouraging people to sin. But deep down, those things are completely inconsequential. I’d be this desperate for Asher regardless of the circumstances. I’ve been this desperate for Asher since the first time I heard his raspy voice come over the speakers at a club in Boston.
“Oh yes. I believe I was about to serve my sentence.” His breath tickles my skin, every excruciatingly long second torturing me even more. I’m so on edge. So delirious. So hungry. “But can it really be considered a punishment when I’m getting so much pleasure out of this?”
Before I can utter a response, his teeth lightly clamp onto my earlobe. Sparks shoot through me and I arch my back. I do everything to fight back a moan, losing the battle the second he swipes his tongue along my flesh. If this is how I react to a slight nibble of my ear, I fear what his kiss would do to me.
Then again, I have a feeling I already know that answer.
His kiss will ruin me in all the ways I want to be ruined.
And in all the ways I’m scared of, too.
Chapter Twelve
Maybe instituting a time limit wasn’t as great an idea as I originally thought. With our heads becoming foggy…apart from Chloe, who’s only had a couple of beers over the course of the afternoon and evening…it’s been increasingly difficult to come up with something no one’s said in the time allotted. Which has resulted in more throwing of the dice and spinning of the bottle.
“Never have I ever gotten so drunk I had to be carried out of a bar,” Asher announces, shooting me a sly glance. It was only a matter of time before he used this little nugget. He was probably waiting until he had a little more to drink, considering the story behind it.
With a smirk, I bring the beer to my lips, indicating I have, in fact, been carried out of a bar.
“Okay.” Chloe’s gaze flickers between Asher and me, able to sense he played a role in the incident. “There’s obviously a story here. I need to hear it.”
“Fine.” I shrug, acting as if the night isn’t permanently etched in my mind…and my heart. I’d never told Chloe the exact details of the night my relationship with Jessie ended. It was just easier to let everyone draw their own conclusions based on the few tidbits I provided, pretending to be too distraught to discuss it at length. By the time the dust settled, our breakup was old news.
My shoulders squared, I face her, steeling myself to get thro
ugh this without giving too much away. “It was Christmas break my junior year of college. I was spending it in Connecticut with my family. Jessie was in Massachusetts. I had planned to visit him, but decided to surprise him and go early.”
“Jessie? Your brother?” Lincoln asks, looking at Asher.
“Yes. They were, well…” Stammering, he rubs his hands over his shorts. “They were—”
“Engaged,” I blurt out, not caring if he knows. It was years ago. Jessie doesn’t matter. Or he shouldn’t. But it’s impossible to write him off, especially when my past and present have collided the past twenty-four hours. “Until that night.” I swallow hard before my expression brightens, continuing the story. “Their parents are snowbirds who flee the cold north for the south every winter. The guys usually went down to Florida for Christmas. Well, Jessie was getting back into town that day. Asher was already back, since he was a music teacher and school had resumed. Anyway, I told Asher my plan to surprise Jessie when he got home that day.”
I steal a glimpse at Asher, who stares at me furtively, brows bunched together. Not wanting to raise anyone’s suspicions, I embellish the story a little.
“I had this entire scenario in my head. At first, it all did go according to plan. Asher left me a key to Jessie’s place so I could freshen up after the long drive. I even made him the lasagna he loved, thinking he’d be hungry after traveling all day. When I heard the car pull into the driveway, I went into the dining room, taking a page from Julia Roberts’ character in Pretty Woman. You know, when she surprised Edward wearing a tie…and that’s it. Sexy, right?” My expression falls. “Until Jessie walked into the house and I could hear moans and giggles.”
“Oh, Iz,” Chloe exhales.
“He tried to apologize, promise it was just a one-time thing, but in my heart, I knew that wasn’t the case, that it had probably been going on a lot longer, especially considering she was the one he ran to the second he landed in Boston, not me. So I stormed out of there. After getting dressed, of course. I was a mess and not thinking clearly. I was so convinced he was the perfect man for me,” I lie, not wanting Chloe to poke holes in my story. It’s not a complete fabrication. At one point, I did think he was the perfect man for me. Just not at that time. “As I tried to figure out what to do, I passed a bar.”
“Which just so happened to be where my band was performing that night,” Asher interjects, flashing me a smile, although it doesn’t reach his eyes. I can feel his unspoken question about why I’m leaving out one rather important detail about our breakup. Maybe it’s easier to put the blame on Jessie than myself. Or maybe I’ve told this version of the story so many times I can’t be sure what the truth is. “Around the time we finished our first set, I looked up to see her sitting at the bar, some punk putting his hands all over her. But she was too drunk to realize what was going on.”
“Not one of my finer moments.”
“I knew some kind of shit had to go down for her to be there when she was supposed to be with Jessie. So I hauled her out of there before something untoward happened. Canceled the rest of our gig that night, much to the displeasure of the bar’s owner, and took her to my place to sober up.”
He swallows hard, and I can tell he’s thinking of what happened next. How he comforted me, told me everything happens for a reason. How I took that advice to heart, thinking maybe there was a reason I’d ended up in that bar. Then how I almost kissed him, but he stopped me, telling me I was drunk and upset, that he refused to take advantage of me.
“The next morning, as he helped me nurse one of the worst hangovers of all time, I told him what happened,” I explain. “To which he said…” I trail off, blinking as the words come rushing back, words I’d forgotten in the haze of everything.
“You deserve to be with someone who looks at you every day as if they won the lottery.” His eyes lock with mine, a dozen emotions swirling in his mahogany depths. Sympathy. Admiration. Devotion. All things I shouldn’t see from him. But I do. They were there when he uttered those words to me the first time, too, but I’d refused to acknowledge them, his rejection from the previous night still stinging. Or maybe I wasn’t supposed to see them yet. Maybe it wasn’t our time yet.
Is it our time now?
I quickly look away, snapping out of whatever trance Asher’s mere presence places over me. “So that’s how I was carried out of a bar. Who’s next? It’s your turn, isn’t it, Chloe?”
She doesn’t say anything at first, simply gapes at me. I can see the questions in her stare. I narrow my eyes, an unspoken warning not to press the topic.
“Okay then.” She straightens as Lincoln sets the timer. “Never have I ever given or received a lap dance.”
“Try again,” I taunt, thankful for the distraction. “Already asked.”
“Crap. That’s right.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, staring into the distance as she searches the recesses of her mind for something that hasn’t been said and at least one person has done. I’m glad she’s in the proverbial hot seat, because my mind’s coming up blank, too. All the beers I’ve consumed tonight certainly haven’t helped.
“Ten seconds, Chloe,” Lincoln warns, waving his phone in front of her.
“Okay, okay.” She passes him a wry smile, the wheels spinning in her head. “Never have I ever gotten freaky in an elevator.” She brings her beer to her mouth, taking a small sip, although I doubt she’s actually drinking. She refuses to admit it, but Chloe’s biggest fear is turning into her alcoholic mother.
I lean back into the couch, not drinking. Either does Asher. I take solace in this, the jealous monster who’s flashed her teeth a few times during the game remaining in check. For now.
“Remember, we’re in a bubble. Circle of trust. Blackout Club and all that. It’s okay if you have.”
I glance around the circle, everyone shaking their heads. “Looks like you earned a penalty round.”
Chloe reaches for the dice, acting as if it’s no big deal. She tosses them onto the coffee table. When they land on SUCK and TONGUE, Asher and Lincoln whistle, their devious grins floating between Chloe and me, as I suspected they would. They’ve been itching for us to make out all night.
Men.
“Looks like things are about to get very interesting.” I waggle my brows.
“I suppose they are.” She takes the bottle and spins it. Her sly glances at Lincoln every few seconds don’t escape my notice.
As the bottle slows on Asher, I tense, the mere idea of Chloe kissing him making my stomach churn, even though there’s no doubt in my mind she’d use her pass, regardless of the fact that Asher and I aren’t a couple. There’s still an interest there. A spark. Plus, it’s girl code. Never mess around with the object of your friend’s affection.
Can’t the same be said for Asher, though? But in his case, it’s even worse. I was once his brother’s fiancée. If we were to kiss, we’d break the bro code in every way possible.
Then again, I’m pretty sure we’ve already broken it.
I exhale a breath when the bottle continues past him, landing on Lincoln. I whistle, passing her a playful smirk, as he casually leans back into the couch, his dark, devilish eyes trained on Chloe.
“You can use your pass if you want.” His deep voice has a teasing quality to it. “I’ll understand.”
“Rules are rules. Plus, I’d rather save my pass for when I have to suck on Izzy’s chest.”
“Please don’t,” Asher begs, groaning. “Use your pass if you have to touch her ear, but not that. Anything but that.” With a wink, he flashes me a boyish grin, his playfulness endearing another piece of my heart to him.
I love how one minute, he can be so sensual, so erotic, whispering how pleasurable biting my ear is. The next, he’s the same Asher, whose full-bellied laughter surrounded me with comfort when I flipped over the boat we were trying to paddle in the lake. I thought he’d be pissed he got wet, but it didn’t seem to bother him. Nothing ever did.
&nbs
p; “We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it,” Chloe says, crawling toward Lincoln, straddling him, bringing her lips toward his. Apparently, this isn’t going to be just a chaste kiss. “I believe the dice have spoken.”
I avert my eyes, feeling like I’m snooping in on a private moment between them. If what Chloe told me earlier is true, they haven’t kissed. They almost did, but then the lights snapped off, ruining their chance. Witnessing their first kiss feels invasive. And makes me a little jealous, wishing I were experiencing that same spark, same electricity, same excitement with Asher. There’s nothing like a first kiss. The buildup. The angst. The hunger for more.
A finger brushes against my nape. I tilt my head to Asher as he rests his arm along the back of the couch, wrapping a tendril of my dark hair around a finger.
“So, when are you going to roll those dice and have the bottle land on me?” he whispers in a gruff voice. The hairs on my nape stand on end, every synapse in my body firing.
“There’s no guarantee the bottle will land on you,” I respond in a breathy voice. “And wouldn’t it be a shame if I rolled those dice for them to land on KISS and LIPS only to spin and have to do that to Lincoln?”
“It certainly would.” He licks his lips, inching closer to me, but I angle away, staying slightly out of reach, taunting and teasing him. “Then perhaps I’ll just have to sabotage the bottle somehow. Use magnets so there’s no way it won’t land on me.”
I give him a playful look of disapproval. “But that would be breaking the rules.”
He continues to close the distance until I have nowhere to escape. “I’ve already broken the rules where you’re concerned.”
“How so?” I know the answer. I just need to hear him say it.
“I shouldn’t be thinking about you this way.” He traces a finger along the curve of my face, swiping my bottom lip.
“What way?”
“Like I’ve been starved for months, years, and have finally found a source of sustenance.” He nuzzles into the crook of my neck, inhaling. “Like I’ve been wandering the desert, and you’re the mirage promising to quench this unyielding thirst.”