by Mignon Mykel
“But I need you. I’m…I’m ready.” I bit my lip to keep from saying more, keeping my eyes trained on his.
Would he give in?
Would he love me?
“You pushing me away fucking tore me up.” His words weren’t what I was expecting. “If I could go back to that day, Asher, I would in a fucking heartbeat. I was selfish. You said you needed it, but I should have known better.”
“I did need it though,” I told him, nodding my head slightly. “There were a lot of things that I kept locked up. Memories I refused to remember.”
“Yeah, and I made you remember them during a time where they had no place being.” I watched as his fist bunched into the sheets beside him.
Reaching to my side, I grabbed his other hand, prying his fingers apart and linking our hands, cupping my other around our joined fist. “That’s on me, though, Porter.”
“No. I should have known better.” His hand tightened in my hand. “Asher, you’re my best friend.” His voice cracked. “You are fucking everything to me. I should have known better.”
I heard the passion in his words, and this time, I recognized it wasn’t anger lacing them.
It was hurt.
But it was also love.
“You’re my best friend too,” I whispered to him. “I trust you, Porter, with everything in me. Sometimes I need to remind myself it’s you and I hate that. I hate that I can’t just let go with you. I hate that someone else took things from me, and I love you for it, but I just don’t understand how you’re so accepting of it.”
His hand moved now, cupping my jaw. “Because I love you. They weren’t your actions, Asher. I wish I could get you to believe that.”
“But I—”
“Fight or flight, beautiful,” he said, shaking his head. “And doing what you thought you had to do, to get you and Ace out of a potentially worse situation. You loved my sister enough to face your own demons. How in the hell could I ever find fault in that?”
“You’re too good for me,” I whispered, the words incredibly truthful.
“I could say the same of you, Asher.”
I let my eyes drift close, feeling the energy in the room. After a moment, I asked, “Can you love me?”
Could I love her?
Was she not listening to me? I loved her. I always have, and I always would.
“I do, Ash.”
“No. Like…” She sighed heavily. “I’m afraid to kiss you, Porter. I’m afraid to touch you.” Her voice shook and her shoulder rose, only to fall hard.
“I’m afraid to touch you, too,” I told her. “I can’t do the last two and a half months again, Ash. I’d much rather we eased back into things.”
“It won’t. I won’t. I won’t push you away again.”
I stared at her, badly wanting to believe her words.
Once burned, twice shy.
And it hadn’t been the first time, just the most serious one.
“You need to tell me if we go too far,” I finally conceded. “You need to tell me if your memories take over, baby, because I can’t…” I shrugged before admitting, “I can’t compete with your memories. You need to be here, one hundred percent.” I twisted so I could grab her hips, pulling her toward me. Asher moved a leg over me so she straddled my lap. “One hundred percent, Asher.”
Her hands went to my face and I reveled in the once-routine feel of her hands over the stubble on my cheeks. “One hundred percent, Porter,” she said. “I promise.”
My heart jumped in my chest at her word choice.
It wasn’t a set of words she used lightly. It wasn’t a set of words she ever used.
I watched her for the briefest of moments before putting a hand to the back of her head, and pulling her mouth to mine.
When her lips met mine, I felt like I was coming home.
Finally.
Asher sighed against my mouth but soon, the slow, sweet kiss turned to more.
It turned into need.
My hands dropped to the bottom of her shirt and I lifted it, my mouth latching with her breast before the shirt even cleared her head. Asher arched into me, her breath leaving her mouth in a wordless cry.
I slid my hands down her back until my fingers pushed just under the band of her shorts, my fingers pressing into the upper swell of her ass. I held her close, the whole time my cock twitching and growing under her heat. It didn’t help matters that Asher’s hips moved in the softest, gentlest of grinds over me.
It had been too long without her.
I was more than ready to take her, over and over again, send her over the edge again and again.
Once, twice, three times.
But I had to get her there. I had to get her there before I found my own release, and at this rate, I was going to fail miserably.
“Up,” I demanded against her mouth. Without questioning me, she rose up on her knees and I tugged down on her short shorts. Caught around her thighs, I released the band with one hand so I could cup her wet heat.
“Fuck, Asher.”
I brushed two fingers over her, through her, pressing at her clit. With her hands on my shoulders, Asher pushed away and my hand fell to my lap. She moved off the bed and pulled down her shorts the rest of the way before moving around the bed, standing at my other side.
The entire time, I watched her with what had to be a predatory gaze.
She wasn’t going far.
Asher leaned down, sealing her mouth over mine again as her hands went to my boxer briefs. “Off,” she said, as she pulled away from the open-mouthed kiss. I put my hands to my sides and lifted, allowing Asher to pull the cotton down. My cock sprung to attention, no longer trapped under the confines of my briefs. It rested heavy on my thigh, pulsing and ready for the place it called home.
Carefully, Asher moved my briefs around my knees and after tossing them to the floor, she crawled up the end of the bed, stopping to straddle my shins as her fingers lightly traced the scars from my surgery.
“Asher.” Her eyes drifted up my body, lingering on my cock—which only had it jumping in excitement—before they moved all the way to my eyes. “Come here, beautiful.”
“Your knee,” she stated simply, as if she were just remembering it. All night, she’d been harping on me about my knee. I wasn’t about to let it stop me from loving on her right now.
“Is fine. I promise.”
“You shouldn’t be on top. We’ll have to revisit that thought.”
I grinned crookedly at her choice of words, and her finger moved out to brush down my dimple. “Ash, just come up here.”
She leaned down then, her hair falling over her shoulder, as she pressed her lips just above my knee. “I’m sorry you got hurt,” she whispered, sitting up again.
“Nothing I’ve gone through remotely compares to you, Asher. I’m just a beat-up hockey player. You though,” I reached for her hand and tugged until she moved to straddle my hips. “You are a survivor.”
I could see her eyes tearing up again.
“No more of that, baby,” I whispered, reaching for her face again so I could kiss away any sad thoughts.
Her arms wrapped around my neck as her mouth played over mine. I couldn’t get over how much I’d missed her.
Missed this.
In tandem, we moved together, both after the same goal. She lifted her hips without breaking our kiss, and I reached between our bodies, angling my cock so she could take me.
She was wet, she was warm, but I wasn’t prepared for how tight she was. I squeezed my hands to her hips, halting her.
“Baby, stop. You’re not ready.”
I wasn’t going to hurt her. I refused to hurt her.
“I am,” she fought, and I could feel her trying to move.
“Asher. No.”
Her hands went back to my face and, with a fierceness in her eyes I hadn’t seen before, she told me, “Trust me, Porter. I trust you. I’m ready. I need you. It’s just been a little while.”
I
swallowed back my fear, because that was what it was, and nodded, loosening my hands on her. With her teeth grazing her bottom lip, Asher sunk all the way down on my shaft, until we were sealed as one.
I groaned at the tightness but forced my eyes to remain open, to stay on hers. I saw the briefest flashes of pain in her eyes, and it caused my heart to constrict, but flash was quickly replaced with heat and desire.
Soon her mouth was on mine again. Languid and sweet, her tongue danced over mine to the same rhythm her hips danced. Her body moved in slow rolls over mine, and between the tight squeeze of her body and the pull on my piercing, I was nearer the end than I truly wanted to be.
I needed more control.
And as badly as it scared me, I knew I had to trust her. There wasn’t room between us to not trust one another anymore.
It was all or nothing.
I was all in.
With my arm around her hips, I flipped us and, putting all my weight in my right knee, my good knee, I pressed Asher down into the bed. I pulled my head back to stare at her.
“You with me?” My heart pounded behind my chest, equal parts anticipation and terror.
I was terrified of sending her someplace she couldn’t fight back from.
I was terrified that, as much as she said she wanted it, in the end she wouldn’t be able to handle it.
But I had to trust her.
I had to.
“I’m with you,” she told me softly.
I dropped my head to her neck, suckling there before kissing. “Only me, Asher. Just me.”
“Always you,” she vowed and with her words, I started pumping in and out of her slowly.
Her legs moved to wrap around my hips and I could feel as she locked her feet behind my back. It didn’t matter how many times I took her, how many different ways we worked around her fears, I decided then and there that this one was my favorite.
To anyone else, this wasn’t anything special.
But to me, this was about trust.
About acceptance.
About love.
Asher squeezed her arms around my chest, holding her body close as my thrusts began to quicken. Her body tightened around me, and I swore I saw stars and I wasn’t even there yet.
“Asher,” I murmured into her neck. “Tell me…tell me you’re still here, baby. Tell me…”
“I love you, Porter,” she whispered, turning her head into mine as her nails dug into my back.
I snuck an arm under her back, pressing her tighter into me as my hips flexed. I could feel the slightest of tremors running through her legs, and I knew she was close.
She was just about there.
I opened my mouth against her neck, pressing the flat of my tongue to the tight cord there before biting down gently.
When her body shook under mine, her tight glove clenching around me, milking me as she cried out my name, there was no way I was holding back.
“I love you so fucking much,” I swore into her neck, thrusting, thrusting, pushing one more time before I had no choice but to let go of my own release.
My cock jerked painfully in her heat.
But it wasn’t that, that had me squeezing my eyes tight against the pillow behind her head. It was the trust Asher just gave me.
It was the love.
It was the wall we just hurdled over.
And I knew, I fucking knew, we were well on our way to okay again.
I held Porter tight as he shot his release into me. The feel of his thickness in me, swelling and pulsing with each jerk, was something I had missed.
I missed this intimacy.
I finally realized, finally felt, the difference.
Porter loved me.
They were words he’d said, words I thought I had believed, but truly hadn’t felt the weight of them until just now.
When his body calmed over me, I unlocked my legs and allowed them to fall to the bed, but Porter didn’t move. He kept his face buried in the pillow beside me, his lips to my shoulder.
Soon though, I felt something warm and wet.
I angled my head and reached for his, trying to pull him back, but he refused to budge.
“Porter.”
“I love you,” he murmured thickly, and I swore I heard the wetness of tears in his voice, a tone I had heard from him a time too many in the last year.
“Porter,” I said again and this time, he let me lift his head. His eyes were indeed wet with tears.
My big, bad hockey player.
The one who cried so rarely, the one who always tried to shield me from his tears, was crying.
“Porter,” I whispered, my eyes searching his.
“I love you, Asher. So fucking much.”
“I love you too.”
“Don’t leave again. Please, beautiful. Don’t leave again.”
I shook my head. “I won’t. I won’t, Porter.” I wouldn’t.
I was finally ready for the future.
When I woke a few hours, the first thing I noticed was the pain in my knee. I definitely overdid it last night, but I wasn’t taking a second back.
The second thing I noticed, not even a millisecond after the pain set in, was that I was alone.
Fear gripped my belly as I sat up, looking around.
There was a light on in the main living space of the suite. Not bothering with my brace, I moved to stand, grimacing at the sharp pain that radiated down my leg.
Yeah. Overdid it.
I reached for one of the crutches, propping it under my right arm before moving out of bedroom.
“Asher?” I called out, but she didn’t answer.
The room was empty but then I heard her.
She was retching in the bathroom.
Frowning, I made my way there and pushed the door open. “Asher.” She was sitting on the floor, her legs curled to her side, as one hand held back her hair and the other held her forehead, her elbow perched on the toilet seat, holding her face up.
She dry heaved into the bowl, the horrific sound echoing in the walls. Nothing was coming up.
Of course, it wasn’t.
Last night she fucking vomited water.
There wasn’t anything in her.
I cursed myself for being so fucking insensitive to her. I knew she had an empty stomach. I should have fed her.
I hobbled into the bathroom, leaving the crutch to lean on the sink as I moved to sit on the tub ledge beside her. I reached for her hair.
“What’s wrong, Ash?” The question sounded stupid coming out of my mouth. This was the second time she was puking—trying to—in less than twelve hours. “Are you okay?” Another stupid question, but I was helpless.
She sat back and held the back of her hand to her mouth. “I think I’m fine now,” she managed before her eyes flared and her chin dropped. She turned her face back to the bowl but again, nothing came up.
“Asher, how long have you been sick?”
She shook her head and shakily reached to flush the toilet. “Off and on for a few weeks,” she said.
My world narrowed in, those words bringing me fear and excitement, but I had to know…
“Could you be pregnant?”
Her head turned to me and, with tears filling her eyes—either from puking or the thought, I couldn’t be sure—she shook her head.
“You sure?”
The left-right motion of her head paused, but slowly began again.
“I hoped it was just a bug. It’s just a bug, Porter,” her voice pleaded with me. “I’m on birth control!”
I stared down at her before saying, “This continues, and you’re taking a test.”
“It’s just a bug.”
But an hour later, when I emerged from the shower, fresh with the aftershave she once picked out for me, and she raced for the bathroom again, I put my foot down.
“You’re taking a test, Asher.”
“My stomach just isn’t happy, Porter. I’ll eat something. Toast.”
I could see t
he thought of food wasn’t very appealing to her, but we ordered room service, the entire time my eyes watching her.
She seemed to get over the worst of it as we sat, waiting for breakfast to arrive, watching television.
What if she was pregnant?
I couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit ecstatic.
Fuck it. I would be fucking thrilled.
So, when breakfast came and her face turned green, my decision was made.
“We’re stopping for a test.”
Terrified didn’t even begin to describe how I was feeling.
We decided to wait until after we got back to the house, to go to the store and pick up a test. When Nico met us at the truck to leave, everything was status quo—back to the way things were before.
Porter didn’t bring our current thoughts—fears—up to Nico, and he was none the wiser.
Before I got out of the truck, Nico stopped me. “You’re good?”
I gave him a small smile. “I’m good.” I jumped out of the truck but, before closing the door, I added, “Thank you.”
Nico winked at me. “No thanks needed. I was done dealing with his mopey ass.”
“Yeah, well…” I shrugged.
“It’s good to see you again, Ash.”
“You too, Nico.”
I closed the door and, after pulling my suitcase from the bed of the truck, met Porter halfway up the walk. “Can we wait?” I wanted to put it off a little longer.
He searched my face. “Asher, you haven’t eaten in hours. If it comes back negative, you’re going to the doctor. Fuck, it comes up positive, you’re going to the doctor.”
I shook my head, my voice soft but filled with fear. “I can’t be someone’s mom.”
“Just a step at a time, Ash. Let’s drop off your stuff, I’m gonna change, and then we’re heading to the store. ‘Kay?”
I swallowed then nodded. “Okay.”
I walked beside him slowly, even though he did really well with his crutch. I’d rather he used both of them, but he swore he only needed the one.