by Sara Cate
“There you go, momma. Chase your nut.” He groans.
The sensation of my touch on my clit, his words, and him hitting my g-spot while masturbating takes hold. Ecstasy blankets me, sending me into a blurred vision, back arching toe-curling state of bliss.
“Yes. Right there. D-don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I beg.
He keeps at it, wringing the life out of the both of us.
“Ash—I’m coming,” I drag out.
“There you go, let that shit out. I’m coming too. Sh-fuckkkkk.”
My back buckles as I ride the wave, coming down a few seconds later, those tears finally falling after all. But it’s when Ashton pulls me up and kisses them away that the dam breaks completely.
Chapter 5
Ivy
The ride back to campus is awkward. I mean, what do you discuss with the nineteen-year-old who just gave you the hardest orgasm of your life? Ashton is a gentleman about it, though, which surprises me more than anything because all night, he’s giving the impression he’s anything but. We don’t talk about what happened or the fact I burst into tears in his arms.
I’ve crossed a line today, one I have no idea how to live with. Now that the weed and adrenaline have subsided, all I can do is replay the evening.
We pull up to the main hall, and Ashton kills the engine on his bike. I climb off first, and he follows behind. Not sure what to say, I turn and head for the steps leading to the building where the holiday party is held. When I reach the bottom of the staircase, I twirl in time to witness Ashton adjusting his pants on his hips as he inches closer to me.
He reaches out to brush my hair out of my face, and I swallow a breath while peering up at him through my lashes. Images of our moment together flash before my eyes. My cheeks heat up, and I assume he realizes because he smiles.
Ashton steps forward, bridging what little gap is left between us. Just when he prepares himself to lean in for a kiss, we’re interrupted by loud laughter coming from behind us. I quickly pull away and shuffle so that whoever it is doesn’t see us.
Professor Purington and two other people exit the building deep in what seems to be a hilarious discussion. They stroll past us, giving Ashton and me a courteous nod before dispersing in opposite directions of each other. Once they’re out of sight, Ashton moves forward again.
“Thank you—for tonight. I needed it, and you were great,” I admit.
He gives me a cocky grin, and I release a low chuckle. As unexpected as this all has been, he’s grown on me. Not that I’d ever tell him; it’ll only go to his head, and the boy’s ego is inflated enough.
“Don’t be crass,” I say with a smile.
“You come on my face and haven’t figured me out by now? I’m nothing but crass, momma.”
“And you’re making it weird again,” I joke about the nickname he’s given me.
He shrugs. “Maybe I’ve got mommy issues.”
“Well, I have no interest in being your mother.”
“Thank fuck...cause that’ll be disgusting.”
I laugh. “You can be infuriating. You know that?”
“I’ve been told. But I guess this is where we say good night, huh?” he asks.
I nod with my lips pressed tight. “Thanks again. And while I enjoyed myself with you, I hope you understand this can’t happen again, and it would be great if we could keep this between us.” I squint, hoping he’ll agree without a fuss.
“I’m no snitch.” He pauses and digs into his back pocket, pulling something out. “However, I will be keeping these as a souvenir.”
My eyes grow wide as he dangles my panties between his fingers. I reach for them, and he steps back, causing me to nearly lose my balance. Ashton catches me with his arms wrapped around my waist. My heart beats in my chest as we gaze at each other. I think he’s going to kiss me, and he does, except it’s on my forehead and not my mouth. It’d be a lie if I said a twinge of disappointment didn’t shoot through me.
“You don’t have to go home to him,” he states.
“I do.”
“No, you don’t. Look at yourself, Ivy. You’re miserable and scared, and his bitch-ass doesn’t deserve you,” he says firmly.
I open my mouth, only to close it again. It’s for at least a minute before I gather any kind of sense of myself. “He’s my husband,” I finally admit.
“And that means absolutely nothing to me. All you have to do is say the word, and I’ll take you wherever else you’d like to go.”
“You’ve already taken care of me tonight—more than you’ll ever realize. Things aren’t so black and white, at least not with us. But, I’m going to have to figure this out myself, and that can’t all be worked on overnight.”
Ashton starts to speak until we hear a deep voice calling my name. Every muscle in my body tenses, my limbs go weak, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. I quickly look over my shoulder to see Jerry exiting the building with a grimace on his face.
“Where have you been?” he asks, the anger and annoyance evident in his tone.
“I—I,” I stutter, but Ashton cuts me off, drawing my attention back to him.
It doesn’t take Jerry long to make it to my side, and at the same time, Ashton holds a hand out to me.
“It was nice meeting you, Professor. Thank you for letting me take a peek at the syllabus. Can’t wait to take your class.”
Dumbfounded, I accept his handshake. Jerry places a hand on my shoulder, his nails digging into me. Several deep breaths make it possible to hide my reaction to the pain from Ashton. The last thing I need is a scene right now, and since I’m pretty sure they’d kill each other, I go along with the ruse.
“Hey, baby,” I add weakly and glance at Jerry, lifting on my toes to kiss him. A wave of guilt floods through me. Not because I cheated on my husband today, but because the look in Ashton’s eyes crushes me.
“I was just chatting with Mr. Ashton here in Study Hall about what to look forward to next term.
Ashton juts his chin, and I mentally pray my husband can’t read the anger coming from him.
“Y’all have a good night. I’ll be seeing you around, Professor.” Ashton’s message comes out more like an unspoken warning and an olive branch should I ever need to take it.
“You have a nice night as well, and I’ll see you this coming spring semester.”
Jerry wraps his palm tightly around my arm, forcing me towards the faculty parking lot, completely ignoring Ashton. “Let’s go,” he seethes.
From the corner of my eye, I notice as Ashton strolls over to his bike, where he watches us.
“Okay, I’m coming. Ouch.” I wince. “Jerry, please, you’re hurting me.”
“Shut up,” he whispers angrily in my ear.
We make it to the car, and Jerry yanks the door open and shoves me into the driver’s seat of my vehicle. He keeps up appearances to avoid making a scene in front of Ashton, who’s still watching us.
Kneeling so that we’re eye level, Jerry forces me to look at him. “Do you know how fucking long I’ve been out there looking for you? You answered none of my calls or texts.”
I cringe, expecting him to strike me. He doesn’t, though. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you were coming after our call earlier.”
“Now it’s my fault,” he sneers at me.
“No. It’s my fault. My phone died, and I didn’t bring a charger with me. It won’t happen again,” I rattle off, praying he doesn’t lash out. Not now—not here—not even if there is a God, but I know the latter would be wishful thinking.
Jerry glances through the front window at Ashton and wets his lips. “You’re damn right it won’t. I’ll deal with you when we get home.”
And with that, he slams the door before crossing the lot to his SUV. Meanwhile, I fight back the tears, silently cursing myself for not taking Ashton up on his offer.
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THE END
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ry?
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About The Authors
S. Rena & BL Mute are two USA Today Bestselling besties who met online from opposite ends of the USA. Now they reside only an hour away from each other and have decided to write darker romance books together—lots of them.
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