by Nell Iris
“Mrs. Jones. This is Asher Cross. Cory has heard your opinion. He’ll call you back when he’s ready.” Then he hung up.
“Turn it off,” I whispered.
“Okay, honey,” he said, pushed a few buttons and shoved it down his pocket.
I grabbed my elbows in fear of shaking apart and clenched my clattering teeth. My breathing was rapid and shallow, and I tried to slow it down. To take a deep breath and hold it, visualizing it filling my lungs and revitalizing me with oxygen, but it didn’t help. It forced its way out again, leaving me gasping.
“Need…air.”
Asher sprung into action, throwing the passenger door open, swinging our legs out with his bracketing mine. Then he scooted us carefully until our feet touched the ground and we stood together.
He spun me around, grabbed my hand, and put it on his stomach under his shirt. “Breathe with me, Cory.”
I stared into his eyes as my hand rose and fell with his every breath.
Inhale, hold, exhale. Rise, hold, fall.
On instinct, I tried to match the regular pattern, and noisy, shuddering breaths grew calm and regular. My lungs filled with crisp air instead of panic, and my heart slowed its furious rate.
“There you go,” Asher murmured. “Feel better now, honey?”
“Yes.” I was hoarse after hyperventilating, and I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”
“Ready to go inside?”
I nodded. After locking the car, we wandered up the back stairs, and Asher led me to the couch. With a relieved sigh, I sank down in it and caressed my hand over the soft suede. I was in love with his couch.
He started the kettle. While he waited for the water to boil, he chose a record from his vast collection and put it on the turntable. The familiar crackle of the needle was comforting, like a childhood teddy bear. Music had always been my coping mechanism in life. No wonder everything had gone straight to hell when I’d been unable to rely on it to keep me sane.
The sounds of an electric-acoustic guitar floated through the room. After a few bars, a vulnerable male voice accompanied it, instantly captivating me. Asher handed me the cover before continuing to the kitchen to fix the tea.
Damien Rice. I’d never heard of the artist before, but just a few words in the lyrics, I was sold. I curled up and let the music carry me away. The song grew in intensity, and I took in every word of the gut-wrenching lyrics.
I stared at Asher with my mouth hanging open when he brought the tea and joined me on the couch.
“I knew you’d like it.” He smiled.
Huddled close together, we drank our tea and let the music wash away the painful conversation with my mother. It was exactly what I needed. That…and Asher.
After he’d turned the record over, I laid my head down in his lap. When exhaustion came, I let it carry me away.
Chapter 14
Friday nights were Open Mic at the bar, and Asher had convinced me to join him for a while and check out the performers. At least, that was his official story; not that he wanted to keep an eye on me after my episode in the car. I didn’t mind even if it was. I’d hovered, too, at his father’s house earlier.
The place was more or less empty this early in the evening, but he assured me it would get crowded soon enough. Until the masses invaded, we chatted over a drink. Asher offered me a beer, but I declined.
“You don’t drink?”
“Not really. Alcohol and depression don’t mix.”
“Makes sense.” He poured me a tall glass of juice and put it in front of me. “I don’t drink either.”
“Why?”
“I figured Pops drank enough for the both of us.”
That also made sense. “But he’s not drinking now, right?”
“Nope. He quit. But I guess he didn’t quit smoking.” The worried lines on Asher’s forehead returned, and all I wanted was to lean over the bar and kiss them away. We would have to talk about his father, but not when the bar was about to be invaded by eager Open Mic attendees.
“I have an idea,” I said. “How about crazy and cantankerous parents are off-limit topics for the evening?”
“Best idea I’ve heard all day.”
We smiled at each other and toasted with orange juice and soda water. Then he ducked under the hatch and slid up behind me. When I tried to turn around, he pinned me against the bar, surrounding me completely. His arms encircled mine where they lay crossed in front of me, his long legs bracketing mine, and his scent filled me with sensations of home and friendship. Of belonging.
I belonged with this man.
Pressing my ass against his groin, I twisted my head and brushed my lips over his bristly jawline. He tilted his head and gave me more room to play. I caressed my lips along the line of his neck. Inhaled his scent. Darted out my tongue, tasting his saltiness.
When he pushed his hardening cock against my ass, my knees turned to jelly. “Oh, God,” I moaned and buried my nose in the crook of his neck.
For the longest time, I hadn’t felt attraction at all. When my depression had been at its worst, even my morning wood had abandoned me, and I’d feared I’d never get it back. So being here, pressed up against the love of my life, and having my body respond, was overwhelming. Amazing.
And slightly uncomfortable in my pants.
Gripping my hips with strong hands, he pulled me flush against him. He was fully hard, poking me in the ass, and all I wanted was to fall on my knees and take him in my mouth.
Instead, I rolled my head back and looked at him. “Kiss me.”
His mouth, hot and demanding, crashed into mine. I parted my lips, and our kiss grew wet and sloppy and so fucking hot, I was going to melt into a puddle.
We were interrupted by a loud clearing of a throat and an amused, “Well, well, well. I had no idea it was hump your man at work-day today. I wish someone had told me.”
Asher groaned and pulled back. “Shut up, Benji.”
“Feeling testy, boss?” Benji let out a giggle that reminded me of a rippling brook.
My cock ached, begging to be touched, and the hard bulge pressed against my ass made sure that nothing, not even the presence of a smirking Twinktender, would make it go down. But instead of being ashamed of being caught mid-hump, I was on top of the world. I drew a deep breath to try and stop the heavy panting.
“Sorry, Benji,” I retorted. “Hump your man at work-day is a management benefit and unfortunately not in your employment contract.”
Benji’s eyes grew round like an owl’s, and behind me, Asher shook with laughter.
“Sorry, Benji,” he said, “Cory’s an HR Director. This is his field of expertise, so you’d better take his word for it.” Then he threw his head back and guffawed.
“Damn, you’re good. I think I’m gonna like you.” Benji winked at me and started stacking glasses, whistling a joyful—albeit slightly out of tune—melody.
The first customers walked through the door, and I sent a mental apology to my poor dick for leaving it so grossly unsatisfied.
Asher gave me a final squeeze and whispered, “We’re picking this up later. That’s a promise.” After gnawing me playfully on my neck, he got back behind the bar and greeted his guests.
His hot breath in my ear hadn’t helped things in the downstairs department. After making sure the customers didn’t look in my direction, I adjusted myself.
“Having trouble there, Mr. Hotshot HR Director?” Benji waggled his eyebrows at me, and I wanted to smack myself over the head for forgetting to keep an eye out for the Teasing Twinktender.
“I totes understand,” he continued and fanned himself with a fluttering hand. “If I’d had boss-man’s dick pressed against my ass, I’d be in trouble, too.” He collapsed in a fit of giggles, smacking himself on the knee. I grinned at him. He was fun.
“Benjamin,” Asher called over his shoulder. “Stop tormenting my boyfriend and get to work.” He winked at me before returning his attention to his customer.
Boyfriend? Wow.
Benji caught my predicament, refilled my orange juice, and leaned over the counter as he handed it to me. “You have nothing to fear from me, Cory,” he said in a low serious voice. “I’m really glad you came.” He shot me a smile and hurried to help Asher pour beer and mix drinks.
After a while, I found a table where I hung out and listened to the performers. Some of them were great, like a beautiful androgynous person doing a spoken word poem about being genderqueer. Others weren’t as talented, but no less fun to watch. I sang along to half-decent cover songs, laughed at the very dirty jokes by a stand-up, and had a great time.
Asher hadn’t exaggerated when he said the place would fill up. People laughed and drank and had fun, and I understood why. Asher and Benji were a great team, not only because they worked like a well-oiled machine, but because they were laughing and genuinely enjoying themselves. Benji was a huge asset. He flirted and giggled and had a nice word to spare for everyone, while still managing to be professional. My oppressed inner HR Director approved.
“You’re Cory?” a voice from behind asked.
I swirled around to see who it was. I raised my eyebrow when I was faced with Mike, dressed to impress, with a strand of dark hair hanging over his eyes, giving him an intriguing look. But all the bluster from earlier was gone, and he had a wary glint in his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Aw, shit.” He flung himself on a stool across from me and plunked a hot-pink cocktail on the table. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. What on earth was in that thing to give it that color? Bubblegum and the blood of a virgin Barbie?
“Is that a bad thing?” I asked him, forcing myself to look away from the neon pinkness.
“Yes,” he mumbled into his glass. “A very, very bad thing.”
I scratched my neck. “Um, why?”
He bit his lip and shooed the errant strand of hair away from his forehead. “He never shut his mouth about you. It was always Cory this and Cory that. Drove me nuts. And he used to get this look in his eye…” His voice drifted off and he took a sip of his drink. “And that darned song…”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s life, I guess. Plenty more fish in the sea and yadda-yadda.” He shrugged and had another sip. “But I kind of hate you.” He said in a conversational tone, as if he was commenting on the weather. I didn’t know what to say to that, so I kept my mouth shut. “Too bad, though. He has the most dreamy cock. Don’t you agree?”
I was too stunned to do anything but blink. And blink. But Mike didn’t seem to notice. He just happily sipped from his pink cocktail while checking out the crowd. When his gaze found someone he liked, he jumped off the stool, made sure his outfit was okay, and gave his cock a good squeeze.
“It was nice talking to ya’, but I gotta move. I won’t get my cock sucked by keeping you company. Bye.” He gave me a queenly wave and took off.
Alone at the table, the events of the day caught up with me. I was drained of energy, and all I wanted was a shower and to lie down. I picked up my empty glass and walked over to the bar where I managed to catch Benji’s eye as he poured a beer from the tap.
He frowned as he saw me. “You okay?” He tipped his head in Mike’s direction.
“I’m fine. Just tired. Please tell Asher I’ll be upstairs?”
“Sure, hon. See you around.”
I lingered for a second in the hope Asher would have time for a quick kiss, but he was juggling glasses and customers, and it didn’t look like it would let up anytime soon. I left the rowdy crowd behind and headed for the shower.
* * * *
It was late when Asher finally walked through the door. I’d spent the evening working my way through his records, determined to be awake when he got off work.
Jumping off the couch, I flew over the floor to greet him.
“Cory! I thought you’d be asleep.”
I flung myself at him, wound my arms around his waist, and plastered my body against his. Pressing my lips against his neck, I yanked at the hem of his T-shirt so I could lay my palms against his skin. I would have climbed into him if it had been possible.
“Wow, honey, what a welcome,” he murmured and started walking me backward.
I didn’t pay attention to where we were going. I just kept kissing him. Dragged my lips over his sharp cheekbones. Brushed them over his stubbly cheek. Danced my tongue over his eyebrow.
His cock hardened against my stomach, and I wanted to pull off his pants and worship it. Bathe it with my tongue, lick along the veins, and see if he was as sensitive under the head as I was.
As I daydreamed about sucking him, the back of my knees hit the couch. He carefully laid me down and climbed on top of me.
“Did you miss me, Cory?”
“God, yes.” I tried to wiggle my hands down his jeans, but they were too tight. He lifted his hips to give me more room, and I tugged desperately on the button. “You ought to fire Benji for interrupting,” I muttered. When the pants popped open, I wanted to yell in triumph, but I shoved my hands down the back and, finally, grabbed his ass.
“Aaaah.” We moaned together as I spread out my fingers and cupped as much as I could of his soft flesh. His silky body hair tickled my palms, and I shivered.
“I want to see,” I croaked out.
He jumped off me and wiggled out of his jeans, staring at me with burning eyes. “You, too,” he rasped.
It didn’t take us long to get rid of our clothes. Soon, he stood in front of me in all his naked glory, even more beautiful than I’d imagined. His chest was generously hairy, and I let my gaze follow the alluring treasure trail down his soft tummy. His cock stood proud, surrounded by black, springy curls, and his thighs and legs were almost as furry as mine. I even liked the tiny tufts of hair on his big toes.
“Cory.”
“Mhm?”
“Come here.”
When I stepped close, he cupped my face and kissed me.
It was such an inadequate description. Kissing was something other people did. Asher’s lips against mine curled my toes. His tongue in my mouth changed my world. And his body pressed against my body lit my entire soul on fire.
It was much more than kissing.
I wanted to howl in protest when he broke for air. Trembling all over, I wasn’t sure I could keep upright, but Asher walked me backward until we ended up back on the couch. My back against the suede. Him on top of me.
He ghosted his calloused fingertips along my temples. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
The question made me fall even deeper for him. His dick pulsed against my stomach, and he trembled as much as I did, but he’d stopped himself, making sure I was on board.
“Yes.” The word was barely out of my mouth before he kissed me again. I ran my hands up and down his back, familiarizing myself with his body. When he lined up his cock with mine and dragged it along my shaft, I almost went off like a rocket.
I pulled my mouth away. “Shit, Asher, I’m not gonna last.”
He stilled his hips and assaulted my neck with kisses. Fluttering his tongue over my skin, my Adam’s apple, my bearded chin, he left a trail of goosebumps in his wake.
I grabbed his ass and pulled him closer, and he wiggled his hand between us. With rough fingertips, he smeared precum over our cocks before taking them both in one hand. His grip didn’t reach all the way around, making his callouses rub against my shaft as he started jacking us off. Slowly at first, but faster and faster as our hips thrust against each other. I threw my head back and moaned when Asher rubbed his stubble against my neck in tempo with his hand on my cock.
I squeezed, rubbed, and kissed him wherever I could reach. Tingles raced through my body, balls drawing up tight, and intense pleasure rushed from every nerve ending and focused somewhere deep in my stomach.
“Asher. Fuck. I’m gonna cum.”
“Do it. Cum for me, Cory.”
/> He kissed me again; wet, drugging, open-mouthed kisses that filled me with fire. He moaned into my mouth and jerked faster and twisted his grip as he reached the top. My fingers found their way into his cleft, and as I tapped his hole, he stiffened.
“Fuck. Do that again.”
I did. One more tap, and Asher jerked, unloading his hot spunk on my stomach with a grunt. The blissful look on his face and the scent of his cum pulled me over the edge. Every muscle in my body froze as hot ropes of sperm shot out of my dick and pooled with his in the concavity of my stomach.
Asher’s arms gave out, and he crumpled on top of me. Our labored breaths mingled in the silent apartment, and his stomach smeared the cum on our skin.
I’d never felt better in my life.
“Shit,” I mumbled.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m disappointed.”
He lifted his head and looked at my smiling face. “You don’t look disappointed.”
“Maybe not. But I still am.”
Realizing I wasn’t serious, he laid his head back down. “Why?”
“I wanted to suck you so bad.”
He chuckled. “Oh, honey. There’s plenty of time for that.”
And there was. Later. Repeatedly.
Chapter 15
It had been a week since my argument with mother. On Monday, I’d taken the easy way out and texted her, but she hadn’t bothered to reply. I wasn’t too unhappy about it. I’d had a wonderful time with Asher, and we’d spent lots of time getting reacquainted.
We had been on a real date. I insisted our first date on the couch was real, too, but Asher had declared there had to be a restaurant. With a table cloth, candles, and a fancy maître d’. He’d taken me to a place with all those things and fabulous food, too. After, we’d gone back to the apartment and made love, and that had been my favorite part of the entire evening.
I should have known it had been too good to be true.
My mother called just as Asher was going down to the bar on Friday afternoon. For a second or two, I considered letting it go to voicemail, but I knew her too well. If I didn’t pick up, she’d keep calling until I relented, and the conversation would be hostile from the start.