by Aly Martinez
Really, it worked out well for me, because I had full intentions of giving her that one fuck.
Which was exactly why I’d ended up in front of a brick wall, holding a can of spray paint while I listened to her argue with a middle-aged homeless woman over a pair of shoes.
“They were buy-one-get-one-free, Donna.”
“Green though? You couldn’t have gotten black or brown or something? I’m fifty-seven years old. Girl, these shoes are for kids. I’m surprised they don’t have cartoon characters or some shit on the side.”
“Oh, hush. You’re only as old as you act,” Ash sassed back.
“They’re neon green!”
“Yep! And they match mine.” Ash flashed her a grin. “Twinsies.”
“Dear Lord, help me,” Donna whispered, staring up at the sky.
Ash giggled, walking over to me. “Hey, you haven’t painted anything yet.”
“Yeeeeeah,” I drawled. “Painting isn’t exactly my thing.”
“Don’t think of it as painting, then. This is self-expression!” She snatched the can from my hand and sprayed a bright-yellow mark on the brick.
“Ah, yes. A line. Self-expression at its finest.”
She laughed. “Shut up! I was just trying to get you started.”
“Look, my artistic abilities are limited to diagraming molecules in chemistry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not great, either. I just write words then decorate them with colors. But hey, it’s fun. They are tearing this baby down. Let’s help her go out in style.” She lovingly patted the wall.
I chuckled to myself, and a bright smile spread across her mouth.
God, I wanted to taste that mouth. My cock thickened at the thought.
“Just draw anything.” She picked the green can up off the ground and wrote the word dream in huge letters. “See? Easy.”
“Uhh . . . Ash, can you come here for a second?” Max called out.
“Yep,” she replied then looked back at me. “Just draw the first thing that comes to mind.” She walked away, dragging the tip of her finger across my back and shoulders.
“The first thing that comes to mind,” I repeated to myself, watching her ass sway as she disappeared around the corner.
But I had nothing.
My mind was absolutely blank.
There was no pain.
No ache in my chest.
No pity.
No hate.
No bitterness.
I was numb.
And it was incredible.
Ash Mabie was quickly becoming my own personal brand of lidocaine.
I stared at that wall for several minutes but never painted a single word. Instead, my eyes stayed locked on that single solitary line.
I drew in a deep breath, releasing it on a laugh.
“Shit. You’re smiling,” she cursed when she reappeared at my side.
I turned to face her. “It happens sometimes,” I teased, but her eyes flashed to the ground in the most unlike-Ash way possible. It immediately set me on alert.
“Are you okay?” I asked, looking over her shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m fine, but I have something to tell you, but um . . . I’d really like to try something first.” She began to chew on her bottom lip.
“Ash . . . what’s going on?” I asked as I heard Max cussing around the corner.
“I really want to kiss you,” she rushed.
My lips tipped in a smile. Oh, I had plans to be doing far more than just kissing her, but right then, I really fucking loved that she had ideas of her own.
“Okaaaay. Right after you tell me what has you all worked up, I’ll see what I can do to make that happen.” I caught sight of Donna peeking her head around the corner and jumping away as soon as we made eye contact.
“You’re gonna be pissed though,” she whined and then let out a loud huff. “I don’t have enough time to make you laugh again. You have no idea how much work that is.”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“So, really, it’s now or never.” She took a step forward.
I leaned away. “Tell me what the hell is going on,” I demanded when the way she was acting began to unnerve me.
Her shoulders fell. “Quarry’s drunk. He and Max were playing cards and betting shots. Well . . . it appears Q sucks.”
“What!” I exclaimed, backing up and knocking the cans of spray paint over.
“He kinda just puked . . . all over himself.”
“We’ve been here an hour!” I yelled at her as if it were somehow her fault my brother was a raving idiot.
“Like I said, he’s apparently really bad.”
“Son of a bitch,” I mumbled to myself as I pushed past her.
Sure as shit, I found my fourteen-year-old, tattooed brother covered in his own puke and laughing about it while he was sitting on a cardboard box with a homeless man.
I had two options.
As I looked up at Ash, who was nervously toying with her hair next to me, I realized I was really fucking sick and tired of my default choice.
“Ash, help me get some towels out of the van,” I snapped. “Do not let him out of your sight,” I said to Max, who was laughing at whatever the hell Q was slurring.
Max saluted then replied, “Not a problem.”
I headed to where we had parked in the alley behind the condemned buildings.
“I’m sorry,” Ash whined. “In Max’s defense, Quarry does not look fourteen.”
“He doesn’t look twenty-one either!” I shouted over my shoulder.
She groaned, but her footsteps continued to crunch against the gravel behind me.
After using the remote to open the sliding door, I went to the passenger’s side, maneuvering myself in the tight space between the door and the building.
“Little help!” I called out to Ash, who had absolutely no way of getting around me.
That was pretty much exactly why I had done it though.
“I’m coming.” She turned sideways and tried to squeeze past me, her breasts brushing against my shoulder.
Just as she started to climb into the van in search of the nonexistent towels, I looped an arm around her hips and dragged her down. She squealed as she fell back, landing directly on my lap.
She looked up at me, surprised.
“Let’s go back to the part where you said you wanted to kiss me.”
A huge Ash Mabie smile spread across her face as if she had just won the lottery. It wasn’t sexy. It was better because it might have been the best gift anyone had ever given me.
She absolutely wanted me, and what that gave me was immeasurable.
I was a miserable asshole in a wheelchair. I had no money. Nothing to offer her. She certainly was not winning any lottery when it came to being with me. Yet when Ash fell onto my lap, she was genuinely affected by the contact. It wasn’t that sparks flew or our two souls bonded or any of that other shit people spout. It was a simple biological fact.
Her cheeks blushed.
Her eyes dropped to my mouth.
Her body responded to me.
In that moment, she reminded me that I was still a man.
And I had every single intention of showing her exactly how right she really was.
Without warning, I took her lips in a rough kiss. She bumbled it, opening her mouth too quickly, causing our teeth to clink, but I didn’t allow it to slow me. I took control, deepening it and coaxing her tongue into a smooth rhythm she met stroke for stroke.
That fucking mouth would be the end of me. I loved it when she used it to smile—and even more when she used it to laugh—but it was so much better when it was moving against mine.
Her racing heart fueled me forward. After trailing a hand up her back and into her long hair, I gently fisted it just enough to urge her to move. She shifted to a better angle, and I groaned into her mouth when she settled against my straining cock.
At the noise, she pulled away. I tried to follow, but she stood.
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“Hey hey hey. Where are you going?” I nabbed her hand and pulled her back toward me.
She rewarded me with a quiet giggle, but I took the back of her neck, silencing her with my lips. Our arms tangled as we both tried to find a way to get close without the separation my wheelchair required. It was tedious and entirely too time consuming for me.
“Get in the van,” I ordered, releasing her.
“I can do that,” she responded, licking her lips, but she didn’t move.
“Tonight?” I urged.
Fidgeting with her fingers, she asked, “Front seat or back?”
“Your call. Just do it fast.” I tossed her a wink, and she shyly looked away.
There was absolutely nothing shy about that crazy woman, so I figured the innocent act was for my benefit. I wasn’t complaining, either. I fucking loved it.
When she looked back up, there wasn’t a smile in sight.
There was desire.
Desire I had put there.
Desire I owned.
Desire I was absolutely going to fulfill.
I could have lived the rest of my life under Flint’s dark and heated gaze. His lids were hooded, and I was relatively sure he had every intention of devouring me.
And I had every intention of letting him.
Sure, guys had checked me out over the years, but I was usually hustling them or groping them in order to swipe their wallets. But no one had ever looked at me the way Flint did.
I didn’t have a ton of experience with guys, and by that, I mean I didn’t have any—like none whatsoever. The kiss Flint had just pressed to my lips would actually go down as another “newsie” for the day. I was a chameleon though. I could fake it and make it so freaking believable that Flint would be none the wiser.
I had decided I wanted to be with him after he’d dived out of that van after me days ago. But right then, I wanted more.
I wanted him to look at me like that every day for the rest of my life.
“Come here, beautiful,” he said as he moved himself from his chair to the floorboard of the van.
I went willingly, stopping between his legs. My stomach was at his eye level, and even with as confident as I was, I wasn’t exactly sure what to do next. Thankfully, Flint was.
“You know, Ash, it’s suddenly occurred to me that there are a lot of places I want to taste on you.”
My eyes went wide before I could cover up the effect his words had had on me.
After pushing the edge of my shirt up, he placed a wet kiss on my stomach. His warm tongue snaked out, rolling against my skin the same way it had in my mouth. The combination of the memory and the feel of his touch forced a groan from my throat. Swaying, I became lost in the sensory overload.
Gripping my hips, Flint trailed his tongue along the low waistband of my jeans. I threaded a hand into his dark hair for balance, but as I gently tugged, he let out a loud growl that I swear traveled over every inch of my body.
“Fuck,” he hissed, trailing a hand up to my breast and squeezing hard enough to send the moan flying from my mouth. “Please, tell me you’re good with this?” he asked—even as I pressed my breast against his hand, pleading for more.
Oh, I was good with it.
I might not have respond with words, but I absolutely answered.
After gently guiding his head away, I crossed my arms and gripped the hem of my shirt. In one swift movement, the shirt was gone, and before he had the chance to react, my bra quickly followed.
I brazenly stood before him completely bare, and the way his eyes dilated confirmed that it had been the right move.
“Jesus Christ, woman,” he cursed, looping an arm around my waist before lying down on the floor.
I fell with him, catching myself on my arms by his head.
“People can see you!” he scolded.
Okay, maybe it hadn’t been exactly the right move.
I sheepishly looked away.
Using my chin to force my eyes back to his, he amended, “It’s just that I want these to be mine for tonight.” He gently rolled on my nipple, causing me to gasp. “I’d have to fight off half the city if anyone else saw you.” He leaned up, catching my mouth in another kiss. Once again using my chin, he turned my head to gain access to my neck. After teasing his way up to my ear, he whispered, “And if I’d had to do that, it would have taken time away from doing this.” He raked his teeth over my earlobe, spreading chills over my body.
He pushed up on his elbows, gliding his rough hands up and down my sides.
“What’s that?” he asked, stopping at the tattoo on my left side over my rib cage.
“A dream catcher,” I answered breathlessly as he continued to explore my body.
“You and your dreams,” he murmured.
I wanted him, and as I opened my legs to straddle his waist, I felt exactly how much he wanted me too.
And it scared the confidence right out of me, sending a sea of doubt washing over me.
Sitting up, he sucked my nipple into his mouth, and while it was amazing, I was unsure of the right reaction. What if I got it wrong? What if he thought my moans were annoying? What if he didn’t want to be with me again?
“Um,” I mumbled as he shifted to my other breast.
Leaning away to catch my eye, he asked, “You want me to stop?”
“No,” I told him unconvincingly. What I really wanted was to go home, read a bunch of books, maybe look up some porn, and figure out exactly how to do this. Then I’d transport myself right back to that exact moment, owning all the confidence I was attempting to fake.
“Ash,” he drawled in warning. “We can stop.”
“Can we . . . just, maybe . . . kiss some more?”
One side of his mouth hiked in a grin. “Absolutely.”
He grabbed the back of my head and reclined. My breasts pressed against his chest as he closed his mouth over mine. His soft tongue once again made its way into my mouth and rolled in a way that demanded mine to join it. He swallowed my sigh as my hips involuntarily rolled against his hard-on.
With one hand still on the back of my head, his other trailed down my back and over my ass, forcing me to groan all over again.
“Yessss!” was slurred from outside the van.
I sat up at the shock of being caught, completely forgetting that I wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“And she’s naked!” Quarry exclaimed as we made eye contact.
Well, I made eye contact—he made nipple contact.
“Oh Christ,” Max cursed, dragging Q away from the window as Flint wrapped me in his arms to block the view.
“For fuck’s sake, cover up!” Flint bit out, searching with his hand around the floor of the van to locate my shirt. “Put this on,” he ordered when he finally found it.
While I pulled my shirt on, not even bothering with the bra, I tried to suppress my laughter at the whole situation. Flint didn’t look like he was in the mood for it. However, it bubbled out before I could stop it.
He gave me an unimpressed glare. “I’m glad you find this funny, because Q’s gonna be dreaming about you naked for the next six months.”
I grabbed my chest over my heart, feigning injury. “Only six?”
“You’re insane,” he mumbled as he shook his head, but he did it smiling.
Just before I climbed off his lap, I kissed him. “You know, I’m more concerned with what you’ll be dreaming about.” I tossed him a flirty wink.
However, never one to be outdone, Flint one-upped me. “Oh, that’s easy. Tomorrow night.” He confidently returned my wink.
His was better.
Damn cheater!
Me: Coffee or soda?
Flint: It’s seven in the morning.
Me: Uh, yeah. Hence the question.
Flint: Who drinks soda at seven am?
Me: Me. Caffeine is caffeine. Now answer the question. I’m on the way over to your place.
Flint: Right now? It’s seven am.
Me: We�
�ve established the time already. Coffee or soda?
Flint: Coffee.
Me: I knew it! I’m totally clairvoyant. Open your door. I’m here.
Flint: Already?
Me: Yeah, I was already at your door when I worried you’d want soda. I like you and all but I wasn’t willing to share mine.
A minute later, the door swung open to Flint staring up at me, shirtless in a pair of athletic shorts. I sucked in a fast breath as I openly gawked at him. His chest was thin but clearly defined, and a small amount of hair was dusted over it.
“Jesus, it’s early, Ash.”
“Well, good morning to you too.” I extended the coffee toward him.
Using one hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight blazing into his dark apartment, he took the drink without so much as a thank-you. “What are you doing here?”
Hmm. Not exactly the welcome I was hoping for, but Flint was never easy.
Turning sideways, I squeezed past him.
“Well, by all means, come on in,” he snapped.
Okay, maybe showing up uninvited wasn’t the best idea.
When Flint had dropped me off the night before, he’d given me a toe-curling goodbye kiss that had me wishing I hadn’t chickened out in the back of his van. It had also left me thinking about him pretty much nonstop for the rest of the night. Sleep had proved to be impossible. Each time I would start to doze off, a memory of our night together would flash through my mind, forcing a smile to my face. My cheeks had ached by the time the first ray of sunlight had peeked through my bedroom window, which, coincidently, was the same time I’d raced to my dad’s car and headed back to Flint’s apartment.
It had taken every ounce of self-restraint I possessed, but I’d made it to seven A.M. before giving in and texting him. I didn’t want to look desperate or anything. Clearly, seven A.M. was the hour of cool and collected girls everywhere. Well, at least it was a hell of a lot better than five thirty, when I’d bought his coffee from the gas station.