Reckless Abandon

by Jeannine Colette

  My eyes shoot up. Is he regretting this moment? Because if he is, I think I might just curl up and die.

  “Don’t do that,” he says.

  “Do what?”

  “Search for a reason to leave. I’ve been doing the same thing for four days. Trying to find a reason why I should leave you alone. And I can’t. I feel so connected to you. And I know you feel it too. Hell, I barely touched you and you fell apart in my hands. There is a fire between us, Emma, and I know we’re going to get burned but I want to walk into it anyway. This is crazy and insane and, by God, it has me so fucking scared I don’t know if I should kiss you or walk away from you.”

  “Kiss me,” I say, leaning into him, taking his lips back in mine. He seems hesitant at first but then his mouth opens up further, drinking me in as he did before.

  We are a mess of emotions.

  Two broken people trying to be put back together.

  And one we become.

  Asher’s hands lower under my bottom and grabs on tight as he stands and lifts us from the chair. My legs grip tighter to his waist and my arms cling on to his neck to keep from falling as we move through the room. He must know how to navigate the space in the dark because his mouth is still on mine and his movements are sure and aimed for a very specific destination.

  He loosens one hand to open the door to the music room. Not caring if anyone is in the hallway, he walks us down the corridor and turns to another door, opening it and shoving it closed with his foot after we enter.

  My back is lowered onto a plush bed of fine linens. The weight of me sinks into the fabric. It feels divine. Not as divine as the hands of the man who is still holding me, kissing me, and taking me with his mouth in mine.

  Asher breaks the kiss and kneels over me. Hooded eyes skim my body. Instead of feeling embarrassed I take the empowerment I get under his stare and lift my back up off the bed and help him undress.

  First, I peel off his shirt and get an intimate view of the perfectly sculpted chest I was admiring earlier.

  My hands rub over the hard muscle and weave in the soft hairs of his stomach that lead a trail to the edge of his boxer briefs sticking out of his shorts.

  Next, I unhook his belt and leave it hanging loosely from the hooks. My fingers, steady and controlled, undo the top button of his shorts and then glide the zipper down.

  With a hiss through his teeth and his stomach constricting, I lower his shorts until they’re hanging loosely by his bent knees. I reach my hand inside and pull his massive erection from his boxers, feeling the weight of it in my hand and rubbing my palm up and down his length, circling my thumb around the tip.

  “Baby, that feels so good. You feel so good.” His moans send me into erotic bliss. I lean forward and lick the very sensitive head, swirling my tongue around in circles and then glide up the vein until Asher’s head falls back.

  “Emma . . .”

  I lick and roll and dance with him, taking him to the back of my throat and listening to the beautiful sounds his throat makes with every ounce of pleasure I am giving him.

  Warm hands snake around my head. His fingers weave into my hair, guiding my head up. For as worked up as he is, Asher leans down, and brings his legs down between mine until he is settled above me, between my legs, hovering over me and kisses me with a steadied passion that is more determined and purposeful than anything he has exhibited in the short time I’ve known him.

  “I need to be inside of you.” His voice is hushed, his breathing hard. “I don’t think I’ll be able to breathe until I’m buried deep inside you.”

  My body is burning with want and lust for this man. The taste of him in my mouth and the feel of him between my thighs is too much. My core is begging to be taken by him, in every way. And if he doesn’t tame the throbbing between my legs I might just flip him over and straddle him on my own.

  I have nothing to offer in the form of words so I give him my permission by pushing his clothes off as far as I can reach them. My palm flat against his gorgeous ass, pulling him toward me.

  “I need to hear you say it.” He says, not budging his body from hovering over my body. I want him lower. On me. In me. I want him closer but he’s holding back.

  “Say what?” I ask, looking up into those eyes that have turned my heart citrine.

  “Tell me you need me. I want to hear you say the words.” His chiseled face, softens with emotion.

  His eyes are asking me for something very more than just sex.

  They’re asking me to fix him.

  To let him fix me.

  They’re asking me to love him.

  My throat tightens and my mouth waters. From the tips of my toes to the pad of my fingers. My skin is on fire and igniting brighter with every extra inch of skin of his that touches mine. Together, we are a raging fever. The only antidote is to quell the desire burning between us.

  “I need you, Asher. I need you to make me feel. I need you to make me burn. I need you to burn with me.”

  “It’s you,” he says as his lips come crashing back down on mine. In a heartbeat his clothes are off and he is opening a foil packet I didn’t see him grab. He slides the condom down his shaft and positions just outside of me.

  With soft kisses and strong hands, Asher holds me still as he enters me. My back instantly bows and arches into him. If I thought the feel of him outside of my clothing was intense, the feeling of him inside me is immeasurable.

  Moving in me, he hits every nerve ending inside my body. I didn’t even know it could feel this good with out a mechanical toy. It’s as if he was made especially for me, to fit inside and milk me from the inside out with pure perfection.

  His body rolls in and out of me; rubbing his groin against mine to give friction to my very swollen clit. I’m being loved from the inside and the outside. It won’t take long for me to . . . my God . . . my hands grip the sheets . . . my toes curl in . . . I feel so much.

  My body starts to spasm, arching off the bed closer to him, needing more. I start pumping my own hips with him.

  Asher’s buries his head in my neck, biting my skin. “I love the feel of you. Keep doing that.”

  My body moves with his. My core is soaking wet and I’m still climbing.

  Asher bends his back and leans his head down to take a nipple in his mouth. My body spasms more with pleasure and my orgasm is driven home when he adjusts his hips and pushes inside me so deep and hard I think I might be having an exorcism.

  Screams and cries are coming from the room and they’re all from me. Asher pulls me in tight and kisses me hard, sucking on my tongue and biting on my lip as he finds his own pleasure, coming hard inside me. I can feel him pulsing from inside.

  Our bodies are a mix of sweat and heat. I feel sticky but I don’t want to move. I want to be glued to this moment forever.

  And I think he does too. Brushing the hair off my forehead, Asher rubs my temples and smoothes my hair with his hand. Gorgeous honey eyes skim my face. I reach up with my own hand and let my fingers trace the outline of his jaw, rubbing the light scruff.

  Our skin remains tethered to each other as our hearts find a mutual beat and our breaths take on a synchronized rhythm.

  My left leg lifts off the sheet and wraps around his thighs, pulling him in closer. He arches his hips in and kisses me, rolling onto his side, taking me with him, my leg still wrapped around him.

  We lay and kiss on our sides until our lips are numb and then we kiss some more. I feel like I am complete for the first time in forever.

  Asher tilts his back to look at me as his fingers lightly brush the long strands of my hair. “Have you ever heard of Sirens’ Rock?”

  I lightly shake my head.

  “It is here, in the bay, at the center of the marina. The ancients believe it to be the place where the sirens seduced Odysseus with a song,” he says, his voice slightly above a whisper. “It’s you. My temptress who lured me in with a song.”

  Leaning down, Asher takes my lips again and ho
lds on to them, ever so still, and I savour ever last breath he breathes into me.

  “What is your favorite dessert?” Asher breaks our kiss and rubs our noses together.

  It’s a silly question but one I don’t mind answering. “Ice cream. You?”

  “Cheesecake. But only the New York kind. I’d like to take you to this shop near my house. You’ll love it. In fact, I may bring it home and eat it off of you.” His lips find my neck and start to nibble.

  My heart sighs with the thought. “Where is your home?”

  He leans back and looks at me as if I already know the answer. “New York. Manhattan. I thought you knew that.”

  I laugh into his chest. “I know nothing about you. Like, what kind of cologne do you wear? Because you always smell delicious.” I drink in my very sexy maritime man.

  Asher’s body stiffens. “I don’t wear cologne. I used to, but someone ruined it for me.”

  My head shoots up. First, I can’t believe that he smells this amazing on his own. It’s sinful and totally unfair. Second, who ruined cologne for him? A woman? A lover?

  He gives me a look I’m starting to know well. “Not today. Someday I’ll share that secret but this, right here, this is too perfect to taint with the past.”

  I nod in understanding. This moment is too pristine.

  “Favorite color?” I ask.

  “Black. I’m guessing yours is yellow.”

  I scoff. “Black is not a color and how did you know I love yellow?”

  “I’m very observant. You wore it two days in a row. Two days you knew you were going to see me, might I add.” His cocky smile is annoying yet totally kissable.

  “It just so happens to look best on me.” I curl further into him. “What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

  “I wanted to play the cello.”

  “Looks like we have something in common.”

  “We have a lot in common. I’ve never met someone so similar to me before.”

  “Like our birthdays.”

  “Yes, like our birthdays. And Emma . . .” Asher rolls us so he is on his back. I let out a yelp as he pulls me with him until I am straddling his hips. The growing erection beneath lets me know he’s ready for round two.

  “Yes?” I say, cocking my brow, letting him I’m on to his wicked agenda.

  “I don’t want to talk anymore.” Asher’s hands take my hips and guide me into position.

  “Sounds good to me.” And it does. So we make love again.

  This time we are rough and reckless and completely free.

  The sun is in the beginning stages of setting when I walk up the steps toward the hotel. I asked Asher to leave me at the marina. If he walked me up, I feared we’d never make it inside. My body is so addicted to him at this moment, I’d never leave.

  Asher didn’t take well to being told what to do but I promised I’d leave word with the front desk when I arrived and he could check in with them.

  I have a bizarre feeling he’s following me anyway to make sure I get back to the room safely but I keep going forward, making sure I stand my ground. He can’t be near me or else I’ll jump him again and today is too special a day. I need to be with my sister.

  When I make it into the room, Leah is on the bed, looking sick but much better than she was hours ago.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask with concern, even though I want to scream with excitement from the amazing afternoon I had.

  Leah’s face is forlorn. If she weren’t so sick I’d think she was upset. “Why is your hair wet?”

  My hand tangles a lock of hair. It’s still damp from the shower I took with Asher. Shower sex is definitely better with him than it was with Parker. Hell, everything is better with him than it was with Parker.

  “Oh my God, you slept with him,” she says with minimal excitement. The Leah I know would be on me right now desperate for every dirty detail. But this version of her is more subdued.

  I fight back a blush. “We showered because we went swimming in the ocean.”

  Leah’s eyes widen. “You said we. You showered with him? You, like, got crazy nasty dirty with him?”

  There’s the Leah I know.

  “Stop it.” I wave her off. “We . . . he . . . you see . . .” Oh what the hell. “Leah, I just had the most amazing, mind-blowing sex of my life. It was wicked, and sinful and soulful and powerful, and I think I’m in love with him.”

  Holy shit. What is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with me?

  It sounds bat-shit crazy to me and I’m the one thinking it.

  No, I’m the one knowing it.

  Leah’s mouth is puckered, her eyes narrow. “Asher?”

  I nod my head in affirmation.

  Leah’s next words come out methodical. “Did Asher happen to tell you his whole name?”

  “Asher Gutierrez. Why?”

  Leah looks back at me, frozen in a trance. I take a step forward and put my hand on her shoulder. “Leah, are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

  She places a hand over her mouth and nods before darting off the bed for the bathroom. I chase after her, grabbing her hair, and she hurls into the toilet. Poor Leah. I was spending the day in the arms of a gorgeous man and she was puking her guts up.

  I rub her back until she has her stomach under control and guide her to the sink so she can brush her teeth. When she is steady on her feet, she walks back to the bed, me in tow, and climbs in, curling her knees into her chest.

  Walking over to the bed, I take a seat next to her. “Can I get you anything? I feel terrible you’ve been sick all day. Do you want to see a doctor?”

  Leah’s crystal blue eyes look up at me, rimmed with worry. She shakes her head, “No, I’m fine. I haven’t gotten sick in a few hours.” She notions toward the bathroom, “That wasn’t from being sick. I threw up from nerves.”

  My body is on alert. Confusion etches my brain. What in the world would make Leah so upset she’d get sick over it? “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m so worried about you. I don’t know if this will set you back. You’ve made so much progress. And yesterday, you were so happy,” she says, her eyes looking everywhere but at me.

  “What happened, Leah?” She’s scaring me.

  She rolls her head and then lifts a magazine from the ground. It’s an American magazine, one I easily recognize, as well as the face on the cover.

  “This came under the door this morning.” Leah holds the magazine out two feet in front of her as if it is going to catch on fire. “I didn’t pay any mind to it at first but when I finally got a good look, I called Adam.”

  I take the magazine and look down at the golden eyes gracing the pages.

  “Why is Asher—”

  Leah takes the iPad that was sitting on top of the bed and places it on her lap.

  “Adam was mad. I told you. He couldn’t believe that we went on that yacht. So he did some investigating.” Leah punches her code in her iPad. “Devon doesn’t own the yacht, Emma. He doesn’t even come up on a Google search.”

  I cross my arms in front of me and balk at her. “So what?”

  Leah inhales deep. “The boat belongs to Alexander Asher.”

  My face scrunches up in annoyance. “Who’s Alexander Asher?”

  Oh, wait.

  Asher.

  Asher?

  Leah turns the iPad to face me. On the screen is a picture of Asher, my Asher, dressed in a gorgeous suit. His hair is styled perfectly, slicked back but a little spiky at the top. On each side of him is a gorgeous woman, both of whom I recognize from a certain lingerie catalogue. On the top of the screen the headline reads, “Billionaire Playboy At It Again.”

  I drop the magazine on the ground and grab the iPad from Leah and skim the article. Leah leans over and places a hand on my arm. “He’s a womanizer, Ems. There’s article after article of this guy and every woman under the sun. He’s known for being an elusive cad and leaving women wanting more. I wanted you t
o have an international fling but I know this means more for you. I’m so sorry I steered you in the wrong direction. I never would have pushed you toward someone like him.”

  My head darts up at that comment. Not someone like him? Like who? Like Asher? There has to be an explanation. “I don’t understand. Are you telling me Asher’s been playing me?”

  “I don’t know what I’m telling you. All I know is that he has been manipulating you the entire time. Pretending he’s someone else. Why would he lie about being rich, Emma? According to Adam, he was lying to get in your pants and when it’s over you wouldn’t know how to find him because you never knew who he really was. I want you to have fun—but not with someone like this. Not with someone who is going to make a fool of you. You’ve been through too much. I screwed up. I’m so sorry.”

  I drop the iPad on the bed and shrug my arm away from her. Here I am again. Poor Emma. Damaged and broken, needing to be looked after. Because apparently I can’t even have a proper one-night stand without it being a major catastrophe.

  A one-night stand? A one-day stand? Whatever.

  I rise to my feet and pace about the room. Asher isn’t Asher. Well, he’s Asher but that’s his last name. Why would he lie to me? Why would he let me believe the boat was his and that he worked for Devon? He lied. Didn’t he?

  I backtrack to every conversation trying to remember if he actually lied or if I just believed Devon owned the boat and Asher worked for him. No, he told me he was Devon’s bodyguard, right?

  Think, Emma, think.

  His parents were poor and then they died. He went to live with his grandfather who doesn’t let him wear flip-flops. He didn’t own a dog because he was too poor growing up, too rich as an adult.

  How can I be such an idiot?

  He plays the cello and the piano. The music room is his. That’s why he was never worried about Devon.

  I’m not an idiot, I’m a moron.

  My hands fall over my head at the thought of him playing me like that. Did he want me to believe he was the lowly boathand?

  I bet his parents aren’t even dead. He was never poor growing up. He’s a rich asshole who made up a depressing story about his broken life so I’d fall like a ton of bricks. And I did.