Asher's Sonnet (Smith Pact Duo Book 2)

by Ja'Nese Dixon

  “A police officer,” I clarify.

  “Si.” He nods.

  We talk for almost an hour, as I struggle to keep my eyes open. “Emilio, it has been a pleasure talking with you. But I must go.” I stand to gather my belongings, he reaches over to help passing me my journal and room key.

  “Let me walk you to your room.”

  I use the back of my hand to shield the oncoming yawn. “No thank you—”

  “I got it.”

  I jump as a hand settles on my lower back. Asher reaches for my bag on the table as I place my belongings inside. Emilio freezes glancing up at Asher.

  “This is my husband, Asher. Asher, this is Emilio a security guard here at the resort.” They exchange a tight glance.

  “Good night Jasmine,” Emilio turns to leave.

  “Good night Emilio,” Asher says.

  Emilio walks away tossing a glance over his shoulder. “What was that about?” I ask looking over my shoulder at Asher.

  “You tell me.” He tosses a tip on the table. His hand spans the width of my waist as he guides me out of the restaurant.

  “Wait a minute.” I stop. “How long have you been here?”

  “Long enough for you to have drinks with your little admirer.”

  “Why didn’t you come over?”

  “I’m giving you space.” I roll my eyes. “But your little friend needs to move on.” We’re in the lobby. I’m exhausted from traveling and the emotional pull from the past few days. But I don’t want him to leave.

  Asher’s eyes caress my face. “Let’s get you to bed.”

  “Can we walk the beach a little?” I glance down a long hall leading to the setting sun and the beach.

  Asher’s hand feathers down my arm, lacing our fingers together. We stroll to the exit holding hands. The path outside the glass doors leads us to a bench to sit and remove our shoes right before the beach.

  “Did you reschedule the Dublin trip?” The silence between us is deafening.

  “No.” Asher drapes my purse across my body. Then we start down the sand covered pathway. “Yuki went in my place.”

  I feel a sting of guilt. I’d never forgive myself if I ruined this contract for them. “How do you think her and Dylan will do?”

  He shrugs dismissively. “I have confidence in them closing the deal. Now, whether they’ll return in one piece is probably the better question.”

  “Or end up in bed together.” I laugh, spotting a quarter-size seashell. I stoop to pick it up, placing it in the palm of my hand.

  “Nah, those two will get married as soon as Yuki tells Dylan the truth.” Asher is standing over me appreciating the beauty of the shell too.

  “And that is?” I run a finger over its smoothness, brushing away the sand and put it in my pocket. It will make a great souvenir necklace.

  “That she loves him.” Asher faces the sea hands in his pockets.

  “Do you think love is enough?” I sit on the sand crossing my legs. I glance up at him, curious to hear his response. Journaling still has my mind running like a hamster in a wheel. I thought about my expectations. My feelings for Asher. My behavior before leaving Austin. My insistence on intentionally hurting Asher with such hurtful words. But somewhere between page one and page twenty, I hit a roadblock.

  I need a bridge to close the gap between the disappointment I felt leaving SOS and starting my life as Asher’s wife. The murky waters between these two islands hold the answers to my unhappiness. It’s like I misplaced my purpose when I lost my job only to look towards my marriage to fulfill the void. I see now, that was unfair to Asher and to me. But none of it calls for or excuses my behavior.

  “Enough for what?” Asher is beside me, I brush sand off his face loving the feel of his nearness.

  “To build a life.”

  “No.” He kisses my wrist. “It takes more than love.” He leans back in the sand taking me with him. “It takes communication. Friendship. Respect. Honesty.” His heart is beating beneath my ear in sync with my own. A hand is feathering down the length of my arm as he speaks.

  “Chemistry,” he adds. “And you have to want it. To be willing to fight for it.”

  “Ash—”

  “Jazz there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, except walk away.” I look up at him, and he’s searching the clouds. His face intent. “Waking with you in my arms makes my days brighter. With you in my life, I know I’m a stronger better man. But honey, I am not a mind reader. And I’m not a perfect man, but I’m the perfect man for you.” There’s a hopeful glint in his eyes.

  “I’m not asking for perfection,” I say, still swooning from his declaration.

  “No, Jazz you’re demanding it.”

  I sit up, two steps forward, five steps back. “When have I ever demanded?”

  “This trip.”

  “You can’t lay this all at my feet. I wasn’t the only person demanding.” He sits up. I dust my hands. “Asher you don’t demand with your words. It’s your presence.”

  He turns back to the horizon. I take several deep breaths. I have to learn to talk without blowing up. I need him to hear my words, hear my heart.

  I reach out for his hand, lowering my voice. “When we got married, did you ever consider moving to New York?”

  “No, my business and family are in Austin.”

  “And what about me? My family? My career?”

  “Jazz, tell me.” He turns to face me, our hands cradled in my lap. “Don’t penalize me for expectations you haven’t communicated.”

  “And what about our life? You work, you travel, you plan an entire trip out of the country. Did you once stop and consider me? Or how I feel about it?” I hate hearing the quiver in my voice.

  “About me going to work? Do you hear yourself right now Jazz?” Asher pulls away, speaking in a tone that is worse than yelling or screaming. Yet it manages to cut me deep. “What do you want from me? To stay home? To lose everything I’ve built? And then what? We move in with my momma?” His gruff laugh holds no trace of humor.

  “And this is what I’m talking about.” My heart is racing, pounding in my ears. “Talk to me Jazz. Tell me what you want Jazz. Just wait for this next big something, and I’m all yours Jazz.” I mimic his voice. “Why? When you have no intentions of doing anything about it. What kind of marriage is that Asher?”

  I’m screaming, scaring off the birds nearby. And his demeanor only makes me want to yell louder. I’m not doing this again. His unbothered glance makes me want to get under his skin, get him worked up, invoke the storm clouds in his eyes. But that won’t make me feel better. That won’t help us fix our marriage.

  I stand, not wanting to say something to ruin the minuscule amount of progress we’ve made.

  “Jazz, where are you going?” I move as fast as my feet can carry me across the soft sand without falling.

  “Jazz!”

  “Good night Asher.” I don’t look back. Instead, I focus on the hotel and not on yet another reason this marriage is falling apart. This push and pull have got to end. Even if it means walking away.

  7

  I’m in the lobby when I realize, I don’t have my room key or my bag. I’m not proud that I stomped away, but I feel a little better about getting some things off my chest. I keep walking.

  Truth is, I love living in Austin. I love living near Momma and getting to know Yuki. I have four brothers, and now I finally have a sister.

  I think our conversation unearthed the first piece of redefining my expectations in my marriage. I think I want my job back. It felt good knowing they want me back. I scheduled the meeting with Wesley to hear their offer, but instead of merely listening, I wonder if there is a way to make it happen. To get my job back. To have a place to direct my creative energy towards.

  I stop walking and glance around. I feel like Forrest Gump once he finally stopped running, exhausted, and ready to go home. Home, home. Not a hotel bed. I turn around and retraced my steps.

  My next order
of business is to add a page to my new journal. A page to list the expectations I have for my life.

  Asher is sitting on the floor in front of my door. We’ve had enough for one day. All I want is to crawl into bed, in his arms. We’ve managed to sleep in the same bed, every night of our marriage. Sleeping alone tonight will be the first night without his body next to mine.

  “Where have you been?” He looks up as I approach.

  “Walking.” I extend my hand for my bag. “I didn’t have my room key.”

  He stands and glances over my shoulder. I shake my head. I hope he sees what he’s looking for. Then I retract that thought. I’m tired of fighting.

  “Asher, I apologize for the way I left Austin. I want no other man but you.” I recall Momma’s words, and my next order of business is to discover the man beneath the armor. The man I experience when we make love. The man I saw while dating. I want him back for good.

  I step closer.

  “What do you expect from me as your wife?” He looks up, openly studying me.

  “Don’t run when we have an issue. Every time you walk away I feel like a piece of my heart is severed. Like,” his eyes drop, “I can’t breathe. So yell, scream, but don’t leave.” His eyes find mine, and I see the storm filled not with torment or longing, but vulnerability.

  8

  “What do you need from me, as your husband?”

  “Asher, come inside.” We are having a serious conversation in the hallway of a foreign hotel.

  “I can’t. I need to make love to you but not until we figure this out.” His eyes settle on my mouth. Then back to my eyes and the flame in their depths give me butterflies. “What do you need My Lady?”

  I slide down the wall sitting next to him, praying my will survives. “I need to know I have a place in your life.”

  “Jazz you are my—”

  “No Asher. When you make decisions without me, I feel like an outsider. It feels like….” I search for the words to accurately communicate it. Growing up bouncing between my parents it felt like I belonged nowhere. And with Asher, for once I didn’t feel alienated or alone, which made the distance between New York and Austin unbearable. “Like anyone could be here. Like I’m replaceable.”

  A storm surges in his hazel eyes betraying his ardor. He grabs the back of my neck, as if he can’t help himself, and kisses me until the cracked places in my soul start to mend. I latch on to his wrists to keep him near.

  “How could you not know?” The words brush over my mouth laced with tequila and cinnamon before I can answer I’m swept away, gathered close to his heart, where I belong. His love easing the ache, telling me without words that I am loved.

  “I thought you said…” I breathlessly remind him.

  “May I come inside?”

  9

  We fiddle with my key to the point of Asher carrying me across the hall to his suite. Placing me in the center of his king size bed. My yellow dress clashes with the decor. The look in Asher’s eyes tells me I won’t have it on much longer.

  He removes my sandals, tossing them aside.

  “Come here.” He hooks a finger in my direction.

  I crawl to the end of the bed. I stand on my knees, and he slowly pulls my dress over my head. And it joins my shoes. Next, my bra and I’m in nothing but my lace panties.

  “Lay back.”

  I lower back as his finger brushes my ankle, gripping my calf, feathering up my inner thigh. I twist to give his hands access to my heat. My entire body tingles at his touch.

  “My Lady, every trip was never enough.” He slips off my panties. “I couldn’t concentrate. Colors seemed dull. I counted the days until I could see you again.”

  This is torturous. I ask the man to talk to me and he chooses now to give a dissertation.

  “You asked why I married you…” He cups my heat, and I squeeze my thighs to hold his hand hostage.

  “Asher…”

  “You can’t rush me, baby. I want to make sure you’ll never get it twisted.” His finger does something deadly down below, and I think I might have to kill him for all the right reasons. And my body betrays me. Rocking to the motion set by his skilled hand. The cloud of his heated words swirling in my head mixed with the pleasure pulsing through my veins.

  “Where was I?” He glances off, and the wickedness continues as his thumb sinks into my wetness.

  “Ash—”

  “Why did I marry you…Jasmine…Nicole…Harrison…Smith…you’re my air.” I grab a handful of his shirt pulling him to me. Hungry need blinding me.

  “Stop—” teasing…not stop. “Ash—”

  “Such a lady…” His fingers are killing me softly, and his mouth captures my cries. I wrap my hand around his hardness determined to have some fun too. I brush the head, and he growls. That got his attention.

  “Are you done playing?” I manage to say with a measure of bravado.

  “Not at all My Lady, we have a lifetime. But for tonight I’m about to put you to sleep.”

  Before I know it, my hands are pinned above my head, and Asher is nestled between my legs. His hardness rubbing without entering. I arch my back bringing my desire closer. He pulls back, intent on teasing. But I want him inside me, now.

  I pinch his nipple between my teeth catching him off guard. His grip loosens, and I guide him in.

  “Jazz…”

  I lock my legs around his waist tighter as I ride the wave. Filling me with each thrust deeper and deeper. He pulls out almost all the way and plunges deeper. I see my heart reflected in his eyes and I willingly fall into the crashing waves, drowning in my love and lust for this man.

  Asher composes his best sonnet tonight as we come in mutual surrender.

  10

  That was different. I glance over my shoulder, and his loving eyes meet mine.

  “Jasmine, I love you. I apologize for not telling you enough.” Asher manages to slip a hand beneath me and pulls me to his chest. “My parents…” His voice cracks, and my heart does too.

  “Asher you don’t have to—”

  “Just give me a second love. I haven’t talked about my father in,” he runs a hand over his face, “probably twenty years.”

  “Why so long?”

  He shrugs. “I buried him and his memories until you.” He kisses the end of my nose. “Your love seemed to dig into every part of my life, good and bad. I hated my father. I hated the way he treated my mother, my sister, and most of all that I’m so much like him.”

  I hold him tighter.

  “He was an officer in the Army. He ran our household like a boot camp. And I wanted to be just like him until I saw him for the man he was.” His voice is distant. I kiss his chest hoping he feels my love. “He was a workaholic. He cheated on my mother. And my hatred of him has controlled this marriage for too long.”

  “Asher baby, what are you talking about?” I turn his face to mine.

  “When you left memories of him coming and leaving surfaced. He never stayed long enough to build a relationship. He never went to my games. He never met any of my friends. The military was all he had time for, or so it seemed.” I feel his heart racing. I lean forward and kiss him. And when he pulls away, I kiss him again. “I think that is why writing my feelings felt easier. I never felt the need to say them to anyone…until you.”

  The darkness of the room hides the features of his face, but I know he’s smiling. “You burst into my life and began cleaning the dust and cobwebs from my heart. Before I was motivated by an obligation to protect and care for my mother and sister. But with you, I am motivated by my love and desire to keep you forever.” Forever is so soft I almost miss it.

  “So, if I fail to tell you enough I’m sorry. When I slip up, tell me, and I’ll fix it. Because you are the center of everything, I do. I want to build Smith & Jameson for our legacy.”

  I envision kids and vacations. We can have it all.

  “As your husband, I plan to tell you every single chance I get. I will come h
ome to you each and every night unless I must travel. And trips that require more than a week away I’ll beg you to come with me.”

  I can’t stop the tears. That’s all I wanted. He’s all I want.

  “Now tell me what’s holding you back.” He brushes away my tears.

  “Fear.” I kiss his chest, loving the feel of his skin. “My parents have this joke. They call each other their trial marriage. I’ve heard it my entire life. That mixed with our bumpy start made me wonder if this was a trial marriage too. But I can’t picture my life without you.”

  Asher rolls us over until he’s on top of me, my legs on either side of his warm body. “You don’t have to worry about that.” He kisses the valley between my breasts. “How can I make this better?”

  “How can we make this better?” The shadows around my heart are dancing away as Asher reveals the man behind the armor. “First, I have to find a job.”

  “A job?” His brows set in a straight-line.

  “Not for money but to give me something to do while you work.”

  “Okay.” He sounds hesitant. “What about joining Smith & Jameson?” He’s toying with a lock of my hair.

  “And do what?” I say, surprised by his question.

  “Whatever you want?” He nuzzles my breast, distracting me.

  “Focus Mr. Smith.”

  He laughs. “How about we meet with Yuki and Dylan when we return home?”

  How did I let that one slip past me? Working with Smith & Jameson would mean staying in Austin and having a creative outlet. Thinking of jobs, “SOS reached out to me.”

  I feel his body tense. “About what?”

  “They want me back.”

  “In New York?” The edge is back in his voice.

  “Yes.” I raise a hand and stroke his jaw.

  “We could always buy a place there. I’d have to commute a few days a week. But we can make it work.”

  I crawl from beneath him and straddle his body, shocked by his suggestion again. “You’d do that?”