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Broken Promises (A Timeless Trilogy Book 1)

Page 3

by Quell T Fox


  “Not yet, Asha”. I say the words out loud, making it more real. “Go inside, get your food and go home. Then you can sleep.” I tap my hands on the steering wheel with each word spoken, emphasizing the importance of each one. I decide I’m done with the pep talk and now’s a good a time as any. I grab my wallet and keys and step out of the car. I pull the door open, the bell above chimes as I step through. My eyes instantly go to the menu and my mouth starts to water. My stomach growling louder than ever. This. This is what I need.

  Forty-five minutes later and I’m back at the house stuffing my face with the most delicious steak and cheese sub that I have ever had, or maybe it just seems to be so good because of how hungry I am. It turns out there was only one person making sandwiches and she wasn’t very good at it. Probably why that guy looked so upset. I’m surprised my food was still warm by the time I started eating it. Though, at this point I wouldn’t have cared if it were frozen.

  I hear Andrew stifling a laugh. I look up and raise both eyebrows, in the can I help you? way. I want to know what he’s laughing at but there is just too much food in my mouth to speak.

  I felt a little bit of relief when I pulled down the dirt road leading to the house. Being somewhere familiar helped tremendously with calming my nerves. I haven’t said anything to Andrew about what happened, and I don’t plan to. It’s pointless.

  “Is that good?” Now his eyebrows are raised.

  “Mhmm” Is all I can manage through a mouth full of food, nodding my head for extra effect. I manage to swallow it all and take a large sip of my raspberry iced tea.

  “How’s yours?” I ask in return, when I finally take a minute to breathe, giving my jaw a break from chewing. I was chewing so quickly and eating so fast that I bit the inside of my cheek. It happens too often. There is probably scar tissue in that same spot I bite, which is why it barely hurts at this point.

  Andrew takes a boring-yet-normal-sized bite from his meatball and swiss, chewing slowly. He looks like the kind of guy that counts his chews. What is it, like twenty-six chews per bite? Matter of fact, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly the kind of guy Andrew is. Then here I am, the savage who just swallows mouthfuls…hehe.

  He covers his mouth with his hand as he finishes chewing, giving me a thumbs up. It’s not proper to talk with your mouthful, ya know. I continue working on what’s left of my food. It doesn’t take me long to devour the rest of it.

  When we’re finished eating, I clean up our mess. If I thought I was tired before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now. My body feels as if it may give out on me at any moment. Eating makes me sleepy, especially when I eat as much as I just did. A foot-long sub, bag of chips and two cookies. Plus, the large drink. I am stuffed. I could eat more if I thought my mouth would allow it, but chewing is too much work right now.

  No way I’m unpacking anything tonight. You’d think after driving across the country I would have all kinds of energy from sitting for so long and being cooped up in a car. Nope, not even close. I just want my bed. Lucky for me, while I was passed out in a random parking lot (Yeah, I’m a bit dramatic. I always tell myself that drama is the spice of life.) Andrew and the marshmallow twins were able to get all the furniture together, including the bed. Andrew even made it; it was one of the first things he said to me when I walked in the door. Like I should be proud of him for making the bed that he sleeps in.

  I walk up the stairs to the master bedroom, not caring enough to take the time to see how things look with the furniture set up. I have plenty of time to do that tomorrow, or the day after that because I may just spend the entire day tomorrow in bed. I cross the threshold and throw my clothes into the corner. I started stripping once I got to the top of the stairs. I don’t bother with pajamas. I’m not digging through bags and boxes for anything right now. My eyes go to the bed and I see Raven, our black fluffy kitty, sleeping on my pillow. I pick her up and place her on the other side of the bed. She stays and doesn’t run off like she normally would. Andrew will be to bed soon. He said he wanted to finish putting a few things together first. I climb into bed and get under the covers. I think I fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.

  “Asha, I am so sorry. I will find a way to fix this. Please, trust me. I will do whatever it takes to fix this. Please, just try to be okay until then. I need you to be okay. You have to be okay.”

  I’m staring at a set of iron bars. Behind those bars is the most beautiful man that I have ever seen. His soft, dark brown eyes are filled with sadness and guilt, though I see a hint of anger as well. A deep anger. But why? He’s taller than me, but not by much. His shoulder length black wavy hair, not a strand out of place. He’s biting his bottom lip, which I can barely see behind his thick yet, well-kempt beard. I know this man, but who is he? He keeps apologizing and telling me he will fix this. Fix what? I know him. I don’t understand.

  Wait.

  I’m the one behind bars.

  What the…

  I wake up panting and gasping for breath. I’m covered in a thick layer of sweat. Confused about where I am. Oh yeah, new house. Rhode Island. I reach for my phone to check the time. 2:15am. I look to my right; Andrew is sound asleep. He’s lying on his back; his left arm is bent up above his head. The sheets are pulled up only to his waist, his right knee is peeking out from under the soft white sheet. I watch his chest slowly rise and fall. He is lucky enough to have been blessed with an athlete’s body without having to work for it. He’s toned in all the right places.

  I put my phone back on the end table and remove the sheet that covers him up. He doesn’t stir. I slowly move over him and straddle his hips. I can feel him between my legs, only semi hard. That’s usually how he is when he sleeps. It’s not a problem, I know how to fix it. I reach down with my right hand and place it between us. I slowly start squeezing and rubbing him. I feel him getting harder between my fingers, so I move faster. Suddenly, I feel his hands on my hips and he’s gently thrusting up into me. A sleepy moan escapes his lips. If anything turns me on in this world, it’s the sounds he makes. The sounds guys make. It’s like they want to let it out, but it’s not manly enough or something, so they try to hold It back. So, you know when it comes out, it’s for real. There is no faking it. It’s probably the most truthful thing guys ever do. Moan.

  My eyes move to his, meeting his gaze. His eyes heavy, half opened and still filled with sleep. His dirty blonde hair is a little wild looking. It’s just long enough to look messy but still be stylish, with the sides shaved down much shorter. He squeezes my thighs and I feel the head of his cock press into me. I position myself better, allowing myself to be in control. I don’t push down all the way, not yet. I move back and forth, slowly, loving the feel of his hardness slide over my clit. When I’m ready, I move forward, and he slides right in because this is exactly what I was wanting. I was ready.

  He’s in me as deep as my body will allow. He’s not overly big but enough to satisfy and that’s all I’ve ever cared about. I start moving up and down, faster and faster. I feel Andrew getting harder inside of me and I know he’s getting close. He never tells me, but I always know. I can feel it. He’s pushing into me harder and faster. His breathing becoming more rapid. His eyes are closed now. His head tilted back pressing into the pillow, the way it always does when he gets close to coming. His breathing is getting heavier and quicker. I slow down some., because I like knowing how much he wants it. He lets out a frustrated grunt, squeezing my thighs to the point that it almost hurts. This is what I like. Control.

  I bring my head down towards his, taking his bottom lip between my teeth and I run my tongue over it. I feel his hot breath on my own lips. His hands move to my ass pulling me into him more. His mouth moves to my neck, his warm, slick tongue running up and down my throat. I hear barely-there moans coming from his lips, which drives me absolutely insane. Listening to him brings me close to the edge, but never over it. I continue to move my hips to a rhythm that we find together. He stills and I feel the warm
th start to pump into me. I stop moving as he lets out one last masculine groan.

  I never come from penetration alone. Apparently normal, but completely frustrating. Especially when I know I could come because of how turned on I get.

  Andrew smiles lazily. His eyes slowly shutting again.

  “What was that for?” He asks as I swing my leg over and move back to my side of the bed.

  I shrug, even though he isn’t looking.

  “You’re sexy when you sleep.”

  “You’re weird.” He says quietly, breathless. His eyes now fully closed. I know he’s already falling back to sleep.

  “I may be, but you love me.”

  His hand moves across the bed and captures mine. He interlocks our fingers. “Of course I love you, Asha”

  “I love you too.” I say it even though I know he’s fast asleep. I say it because that’s what you should do. I say it because I want it to be true. Though, I’m not so sure that it is.

  Andrew starts to snore quietly. I get out of bed, needing to cleanup and get something to drink. I’m parched after waking up in a sweat. I head to the bathroom to find a towel, only to remember that I haven’t unpacked anything. Ugh. I walk back into the bedroom and pick up the shirt that I had been wearing that I haphazardly tossed onto the floor before getting into bed. It’s going to be washed anyway.

  I flick on the hallway light before going down the stairs. Sometimes I’m clumsy and I’d rather not fall down the stairs right now, or ever, really. When I reach the bottom landing, I freeze. I smell something. Something that doesn’t belong here. It’s faint, but it’s there. A rich, musky scent lingering in the air. It seems familiar, but I can’t place it. A calmness settles over me as I breathe in the intruding scent. As soon as I think I know where I recognize it from, it’s gone. Like when you try to recall a dream that you know you can remember but the more you think about it the more it slips away, gone forever.

  Maybe I was imagining it? You’re tired, Asha. I wasn’t though, it was there. I know it was. Get your drink and go back to bed, I tell myself. I scan the room one last time, to be sure there isn’t someone lurking in the shadows. All I need right now is for someone to have broken in and catch me butt-ass naked.

  Nothing seems out of place. Not that anything even has a place right now.

  No one is here. Not anymore, anyway.

  I take the plastic cup that I’d left by the sink, the one from dinner. I haven’t unpacked any of the dishes, so it’s this or stick my head under the faucet like a five-year-old. I rinse the cup and fill it with water from the tap. Hoping it’s okay to drink. I lift it to my nose, smells like water. I take a sip. Seems okay. So, I drink the rest of it, leaving the cup on the counter in case I’ll be needing it again before I decide to unpack everything. I go back to bed, turn over onto my belly and hug my pillow. Falling asleep has never been a problem for me.

  Waking up on the other hand, is not something I enjoy.

  CHAPTER 4

  I’m awakened by Raven nudging my hand with her head and purring way too loudly. She is a needy little thing, especially in the morning. Probably because she’s female, we’re all a bit needy at times.

  The bed is otherwise empty. No surprise there. Andrew wakes up at the crack of dawn every morning. It should be illegal. No one in their right mind should want to be awake that early and trust me, it is his choice. I don’t know how he does it. He could go to bed at 2am and he’ll still wake up with the sun. Waking up has always been a struggle for me. My bed is always more comfortable in the morning.

  I pet Raven, which only makes her purr louder. Did you know that cats can make more than a hundred sounds? It’s fascinating.

  She starts nipping and licking my fingers. Weird cat. I make a move to kiss her nose but she’s too quick for me. Raven hates kisses. She backs up and jumps down to the floor running out of the room. I throw the sheets off me and head into the bathroom, needing to wash up. After doing my business, I wash my hands and take a moment to look at myself in the mirror. My dark hair falls to the middle of my back. My eyes have always reminded me of cat’s eyes, both in shape and color, dark green, with gold flecks. It’s an interesting fit onto my round face. I turn on the shower, hopeful that it will be hot. I stick my hand under the water feeling it out. As soon as I feel it start to get warm, I pull the curtain back and step in. Normally, I prefer to shower at night, but I was too exhausted for that.

  I stand under the water for a few moments just wanting to enjoy the heat and the pressure on the back of my neck. I’m always so tense in my neck and shoulder area. Is there anything better than a shower so hot that it’s basically melting your skin off? I don’t think so. Maybe sex…and food. Okay, they’re all tied for number one. Actually, sex probably still wins but the other two are tied for second.

  I take down the removable shower head, wanting to check out the different settings. I go through each one, feeling it out. I settle on the one that has the most pressure coming from the center. The pressured one that comes from the outside ring feels like sharp little knives on my skin and it isn’t enjoyable in the least bit. I move it to the back of my neck, leaning against the wall. The dull thrum of the water against my skin feels like heaven. Showers are truly amazing. They’ve always been a way for me to relax. It’s the water. Something about the water grounds me and keeps me calm.

  I think back to that dream I had last night. Most times I don’t remember the dreams I have. On the occasion that I do, they are nowhere near as realistic as that one was. And they never cause me to wake up like that. I don’t know why this move is messing with me so much. I’m completely out of routine. I know I move often but it has been a while and I’ve never moved with anyone before. Maybe my body was getting used to California? Yeah, that could be it. Let’s go with that.

  And that guy…wow, I wish he was real, though. Not the typical kind of guy I would go for but there was something about him. Something that makes me want more.

  My mind flashes back to waking up Andrew.

  The feel of him squeezing my thighs. The frustrated sounds coming from his lips when I would slow down and deny him pleasure.

  I get that familiar tingling sensation right between my legs, causing me to squeeze them shut. I move the shower head lower, stopping only when the water is hitting my sweet spot. I lift my leg up and rest it on one of the shelves, so I have better access to play. Sex with Andrew is good. He lets me take control when I want to, which I’ve always liked, and he does get me off…sometimes. I don’t know why guys think it’s okay for us to get off only half the time, sometimes less. Luckily, I’ve become a pro at doing it myself.

  I turn the faucet handle to the left, making the water hotter. Feeling the pressure from the shower head and the heat from the water makes my entire body shiver with delight. My legs start to get weak as my climax starts to build. I start moving the shower head in small circles. My hips naturally start moving to my sex rhythm as my hand continues to make small circles on my clit with the hot water. Bringing myself closer and closer to the edge. I reach up and start tugging at my nipple. The orgasm tears through me like a giant wave of pleasure. I quickly move the shower head away; I get overly sensitive after I come. As much as I enjoy when Andrew does this for me, there is just something about doing it myself. Sometimes I prefer it.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been in the shower, but I haven’t done a damn thing besides enjoy the water, in more ways than one. I’m surprised the water is still hot. I just realize now that I didn’t bring anything in here with me. I yell for Andrew, hoping that he’s here. A few moments later I hear his heavy booted footsteps on the hardwood floor in the bedroom.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” I hear him ask from the other side of the white shower curtain. I am going to have to get a new one, this one is too plain. I’ve always liked buying those ridiculous shower curtains that have nothing to do with the bathroom at all. The last one we had was the periodic table, I should have brought it, but it was s
tarting to get old and it wasn’t the washable kind. I’ll hunt down a new one, I’m good at finding things on the internet.

  Popping my head out and pouting my lip.

  “I forgot shower stuff…and a towel.”

  He smiles and walks out. He returns a minute later carrying shampoo, conditioner, body wash, a loofa, and a towel. He hands me everything, one item at a time, minus the towel. He puts that on top of the counter by the sink.

  “Thanks! You’re the best.” I stick my head out further and give him a quick wet kiss. He looks scrumptious today in a long-sleeved red shirt and his favorite pair of jeans that hug all the right places. I know for a fact that if he wasn’t so hot, and sex wasn’t good that I would not be here right now. I’m a terrible person, I know.

  I pour some shampoo into my hand and start lathering it into my hair. Only psychopaths pour the shampoo directly onto their head. Just FYI.

  “I have to head out to the store to pick up a few things for the house. When I get back, we can sit down and discuss the plans for your shop.” His footsteps are heading out of the bedroom now.

  He is a sweet guy. Too sweet. Times like this, I wish I could be normal and have that want to settle down. That is normal, right? I’m happy now, scratch that, I’m content. Either way, I know it won’t last. It never does. It won’t be long until I’m on to the next chapter of my life. No time wasted on what-ifs. Maybe Andrew is different. I mean, its lasted this long, right? It could be a forever thing. If I tried harder. Maybe I should try harder. But is that really what I want? Do I want to spend forever with him? He’s great, but when I think about what our life would be together, it’s…the problem is, I know what our life would be like together. I can predict exactly how things would play out. It’s just so…unexciting.

  I don’t bother to respond; he’s probably made it to the car by now. I’m glad he brought the conditioner. I always need it for my hair. It has enough curl that it needs to be tamed, and I don’t like putting any product in it. I prefer the natural look. I focus on washing up because I have no idea when the water will turn cold. Once I’m washed and rinsed, I step out of the shower and start to dry off with the towel Andrew brought in. I head into the bedroom in search of something to wear.

 

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