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Ashton - The Agreement (The Cocky Smiling O Stories Book 2)

Page 4

by Jade Sinner


  I can't look away, though I hear the bullshit in his tone.

  "It's a real thing," he says. "You can look it up on WebMD. It has to do with my blood sugar. I need cum—sweet, honey-like. I've searched and searched. My life expectancy was dropping by the day. But now that I found it, I need more."

  "I wouldn't want you to die, not yet."

  "I'm much too young. Besides, I have plans, plans that could quite possibly save my life."

  He reaches down and cups my core, one of his strong fingers runs along the seam of my jeans, and I wish I would've worn a dress, a skirt, shorts, something. With his other hand he pulls me against him. My breasts smash against his solid wall of a chest.

  My nipples harden as my pussy clenches at nothing. I try to breathe, but each breath is shallow.

  Ashton tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. "Think about that," he says, "while we're talking to Paul and Jean. Think about my face buried in your pretty pink pussy. Think about your sweet cum dripping from my chin as your legs squeeze my face and you shout my name."

  My mouth dries and I can't help but wonder if it weren't for him pressed against me, if I might fall, my legs no longer seeming capable of holding my weight.

  He kisses my lips, sweet and chaste like a friend, but his words aren't friendly. They're sexy and deep. They go beyond my ears to my core, twisting it, soaking my panties, and creating a void I need filled. The ripples of his tone send vibrations deep inside of me as I imagine everything he's said. His face between my legs. His tongue teasing and the sight of him dripping with my cum.

  I reach up to his scruffy cheeks and pull him closer, smashing our lips together as my tongue invades his warm mouth. Spearmint. I savor the minty coolness as our tongues probe and stroke.

  When we finally pull apart, my lips are bruised and his cock is hard against my stomach.

  Ashton kisses my nose. "Yes, now we're ready to convince Paul and Jean."

  I've known Paul and Jean most of my life. I've known all of Jess's family, including her brother and sister who are older than us and her other sister who is younger. When we were all children, our entire neighborhood had an open-door policy. Her parents were like my parents and vice versa. Not just them, but all the families in the neighborhood.

  Now as we drive to Brentwood, a suburb of St. Louis, a million childhood memories come back. A million adventures. A million childish schemes...and in so many of them, the woman sitting beside me was an integral part. I steal a glance her way. She's looking out the window, her lips pressed together in a straight line as she takes in the old neighborhood, the small houses that long ago seemed big.

  Jack is an ass. This is hardly slumming it. This is our heritage.

  My parents lived here for years before they moved. Jess's parents still live in the same house where they raised their four children. Though they aren't mansions, the houses have fared well, many with new paint and new porches, all with well-kept lawns.

  Driving these streets is coming home.

  I reach over and squeeze Jess's hand. "What are you thinking about?"

  Her green eyes twinkle. "Your monster cock."

  "I don't believe you."

  "And why not?"

  "Because you weren't smiling. If you were thinking about my cock, you'd be smiling ear to ear." I wink. "Or touching your own pussy."

  Jess giggles. "Pretty confident in yourself, aren't you?"

  "Yes. See, now you're smiling. Now you're thinking about my cock. If you want me to pull over, I'd be glad to touch your pussy for you."

  "Maybe later," she says, not fully dashing my hopes but not raising them any higher.

  "What were you thinking about before?"

  "Jack."

  Well, fuck. There goes that conversation. "No wonder you weren't smiling."

  "I don't want my parents to know what he did. It's not to protect him—it's to protect me."

  "You? You didn't do anything wrong."

  Her lip disappears as she turns back to the window. "I didn't, but to be honest, I now see that he wasn't my Mr. Forever. I should have broken it off. If he were that special someone, he wouldn't have cheated. I didn't see what was right before me. I missed the signs...just to be married. I'm as guilty as him. And now my parents have to pay the price."

  "Jess, I'll do whatever you want. Though protecting that asshole isn't high on my list." I squeeze her knee. "Protecting you—I'll do that."

  And then we turn the corner and see it.

  "Shit!" Jess mumbles.

  She's right. Shit. Fuck. What the fuck?

  In her parent's driveway is a small black BMW. It sticks out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood, and there's no doubt whom it belongs to.

  I pull along the side of the street and lean over the gearshift. "Jess, go with it. You want this to be you, your decision. We'll make it about you. That asshole won't know what hit him."

  She nods, but her eyes are wide open. Doubt, uncertainty...it's all in the green staring back at me. Those aren't the emotions I want. I want passion and laughter. I want confidence and attitude. I want to take Jack Carmichael down, and Lord help us, it's going to happen in her parents' living room.

  "You with me?" I ask.

  "Yes."

  I barely hear her.

  "Louder."

  "What?" she asks.

  "Say it louder. Say it like you mean it."

  Her lips twitch. It's something we used to say when we were young.

  "I'm with you."

  "One more time."

  "I'm with you!"

  "Damn straight."

  I walk around the car, but my Jess already has the door open. I reach for her hand. "Come on, honey." I lean closer. "I'm going to call you that, because your cunt tastes like honey."

  Jess's eyes blink closed for a little too long. "Ash..."

  I wink. "Come on, honey. Let's get this done so I can have honey cumming on me."

  She shakes her head as we start walking toward her parents' house. But as she does, her lips are turned upward in a grin. It's not just her mouth, but her eyes too. Perfect.

  My Jess isn't the broken ex-fiancée walking into this gathering. But the asshole inside will be broken when he walks out.

  As soon as we step inside my parents’ house, I look expectantly past the living room through the archway to the kitchen—to where I know my mom will be. I find her, but she's not alone. Jack is with her. They both turn toward the sound of the closing door. Jack’s gaze immediately moves from my face to where Ash is holding my hand. By his surprised and shocked expression, he hasn’t come clean with my parents. At the same time, my mom looks up from whatever was holding her attention and smiles. The smile dims as she too sees our hands.

  My dad’s in the living room focused on the TV and barely notices as Ashton and I walk through. If we hadn’t walked in front of the screen, he might not have seen us.

  “Hi, Dad,” I say after bending down and giving him a kiss on the head.

  “Jess.” His eyes leave the TV long enough to notice Ashton. “Ashton, how are you? How’re your folks?”

  “They’re good.”

  Dad points to the TV. “Can you believe this? They’re going to vote her off. I just know it. One challenge and they’re throwing her out. I think Sam, the guy with the bandana”—He points to the large screen—“should go. He’s a conniving bastard.” Before we can reply, Dad pounds the arm of his chair. “No! No! Don’t do it.”

  I pull Ashton’s hand, rushing him toward the kitchen and saving him from my dad’s tirade.

  “Jessica. Oh, Ashton,” my mom says. “What a surprise to see you.”

  “Yes, what a surprise,” Jack says in a deadpan tone, his gaze flicking back and forth to our still connected hands.

  “Mom, Jack, we need to talk about the wedding.”

  “We are,” Jack says.

  “Look at this,” Mom says. “The RSVPs are starting to come in. Look at this one.” She hands me a small card.

  “
No! It wasn’t her fault. It was that asshole Sam!”

  We all turn toward the living room at my dad’s outburst.

  “Mom…” I try, again.

  “Jessica, let’s go out back and talk,” Jack suggests.

  “No,” I answer curtly.

  “Jessica Marie”—My mom narrows her eyes at me—“What's going on?”

  I put down the card without reading it and steel my shoulders. “Like I said, we need to talk.” I turn back to Jack. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

  “Jess, I love you. I’ll be anywhere you are.”

  Ashton, who’d been leaning against the wall, steps forward. “In the future that may be a little awkward.”

  Jack snaps his head toward Ashton. “Again, Michaels, why are you here?”

  “Damn it! They did it!” Dad rushes into the kitchen and reaches for the refrigerator door. “Now I don’t know who will be next.”

  “Paul,” Mom says as she grabbing his arm and stopping his progress. “Stay in here. Jess has something we need to talk about.”

  “No, she doesn’t,” Jack says.

  Ashton takes another step toward me and puts his arm around my waist. “Yes, she does. Or I can?”

  Mom takes a step back and covers her lips with her hand. “W-what is happening?”

  “The wedding is off,” I say.

  “No, Jess, don’t do this.” Jack's tone is as pathetic as his flowers.

  I narrow my gaze at Jack. “Keep talking and I’ll say more. Right now I’m going with I’m the one who saw the light. I’m the one who is calling it off. But I can easily change my story.”

  “Is that all?" my dad asks. "They could be conspiring to get rid of Missy next. I need to see the end of the show.”

  No one listens as Jack reaches for my hand. Just as fast I shake my head and pull it back. At the same time, Ashton tugs me closer.

  “Jean,” Ashton says, breaking the awkward tug of war. His tone even gets my dad’s attention. “Jess and I …we decided—”

  “What the hell?” Jack asks.

  “You’re free, Jack,” I say. “Go screw whoever you’d like. Ash and I have decided to see what’s beyond friendship.”

  “You’re what?” His face reddens with the realization of what Ashton and I are saying. “When? How long?”

  “It’s relatively new. But”—I look up at Ashton— “the best foundation for love is friendship, and well, you and I, we were never friends. I’m not even sure I like you, Jack. I thought I could love you, but that isn’t the same.”

  “Wait?” Mom asks. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”

  I turn to face my mom. “I’m saying, I can’t go through with it. I’m sorry I didn’t see this sooner, but Mom, the wedding is off.”

  Mom staggers backward until she collapses in a chair.

  Dad brushes his hands together. “Well, there we go.” He then turns to Jack and extends his hand. “Goodbye, Jack. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass.” He turns back to us. “If that’s all, I’m going to finish my show. Missy needs me. That damn Sam…” his words trail away as he shakes his head, opens the refrigerator, and grabs a beer.

  Ashton grins at me and mouths, ‘I told you.’

  “You’re serious?” Jack asks.

  “As a heart attack,” Ashton answers. “The ring on the kitchen counter wasn’t enough of a clue?”

  Shaking his head, Jack looks at me. “Jessica, you’re just saying this to get back at me. Fine. I deserve it, but there’s nothing”—He motions between Ashton and I—“I’ve seen you two together. There’s nothing more than friendship. Unless you’ve been lying.”

  “I wasn’t lying. We didn’t realize…”

  “No, Jessica, I don’t believe you. Why are you doing this?”

  I stand straighter. “It’s not because of what you think, but that did give me a chance to re-evaluate.”

  Ashton turns toward me, his blue eyes a blend of emotions that I’m not sure I can identify. Without words he cups my cheek and kisses me, strong and possessive. My eyes close as I melt toward his chest. By the time I open my eyes, Jack is gone. Seconds later the front door slams.

  “Good riddance!” Dad says louder than he should.

  “Dad?"

  “What?” he calls from the living room. “I’m talking about the show. They’re finally wising up. Sam’s going to get what’s coming to him!”

  I go to my mom and kneel before her. “Mom, I’m sorry.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m not. I’m really not.” She squeezes my hand and looks up at Ashton. “Is this…real?”

  Just then, Dad enters and slaps Ashton on the shoulder. “I don’t give a rat’s ass.”

  We all turn.

  “What?” I ask.

  “We never liked Jack. He’s a pompous ass who always acted like he was better than everyone else. I get that he had money, but no one’s better than my little girl.” He flashes me a wink. “Ashton, son, if you’re here as Jess’s cover or whatever the reason you’re here, if it helped to get rid of Mr. Jackson Carmichael, well, son, the beer’s on me.”

  I look closely at my father’s expression. The wrinkles and age I’d been noticing seem to fade away. “Are you sure? What about the money?”

  Dad shrugs. “We’ll figure it out. If we have to throw a celebration party to announce you’re a free woman, we’ll do it!”

  “Mom?” I ask.

  “Paul, get me one of those beers.”

  After we each finish a beer and Paul makes sure that Missy is safe on the island for another week, I take Jess’s hand.

  “How about a walk around the neighborhood?”

  A grin and a nod are all she offers. Ever since her parents surprised her with their response, she’s been quieter than usual.

  The sky is dark, but the streetlights illuminate the familiar street. “Look, Mrs. Jefferson has a new dog.”

  We both wave. Mrs. Jefferson waves back, but when she squints she shouts, “Ashton Michaels is that you? And Jessica? What in the world?” She pulls her puppy’s leash down the short driveway. He obviously hasn't gotten the hang of it as he runs this way and that. “I thought you were marrying the fancy lawyer guy?”

  “Hello, Mrs. Jefferson,” Jess says. “The wedding is off.”

  Mrs. Jefferson studies us for a moment, her gaze lingering on our entwined hands. When she looks up at me she purses her lips. “You could do worse, young man.”

  I squeeze Jess’s hand, well aware that we’re still in the friend zone, even if we’ve added benefits. But as Jess smiles up at me, for one of the first times, I wish she were up for a new agreement. “I’m well aware.”

  “You aren’t getting any younger,” Mrs. Jefferson says. “I remember when the two of you were running around this neighborhood. I always knew you were up to no good.” She winks. “That may have been a bad thing when you were ten. Now I bet the two of you have some better ideas how to cause trouble”—She smiles—“The good kind.” Her painted-on eyebrows wiggle.

  Jess shakes her head, and I see a hint of pink fill her cheeks. Letting go of my hand, she tries to change the subject. In a second she’s down on her knees. My mind goes to a totally inappropriate place, imagining her on her knees, her sexy tits showing as she takes my dick between her lips. As I work to concentrate on the present, Jess offers her hand to the small brown puppy.

  “What’s his name?” she asks.

  “LS,” Mrs. Jefferson answers.

  “LS?”

  “Little shit,” Mrs. Jefferson replies matter-of-factly. “The little shit shits all over the kitchen.”

  Jess grins as she stands. “He sure is cute.”

  “That’s why he’s still here,” she says, eyeing me and then Jess. “Cute and dependable. I can count on him to leave me his gifts. Cute and dependable. Two very good qualities.”

  “See you later, Mrs. Jefferson,” I say reaching again for Jess’s hand and tugging her back toward the sidewalk.


  Once we’re out of earshot I affirm Mrs. Jefferson’s advice. “I like cute and dependable, but when you add gorgeous tits and a great lay, I’m even more intrigued.”

  Jess’s tits rise and fall with my words. I can’t help but wonder if she would be willing to make a new agreement. But before I can find the right way to bring it up, she asks, “It's a good thing neither of us shit on the kitchen floor. Now where are we going? Or are we just giving my parents some time to realize what happened?”

  “I’m sure your dad fully comprehends. Besides, he's now lost in his DVRed Walking Dead. Does he still watch every episode like fifty times?”

  She shrugs. “Can’t say for sure, but I’d bet yes.”

  “Do you remember the old boathouse at the park?” I ask.

  Her cheeks rise at the memories. “I do. I remember sneaking in there and smoking your dad’s cigarettes. I also remember being scared to death my mom would smell the smoke.”

  “Do you think they still leave it unlocked?”

  Her green eyes widen. “Why? What do you have in mind?”

  “Mrs. Jefferson said we were always up to no good. If that boathouse is unlocked, I can be up in no time.” He brushes his arm against mine. “And this time it will definitely be good. But if things go as I’m thinking, it won’t be smoke your mom can smell. It’ll be honey.”

  Her breathing shallows.

  “You know,” Jess says, “Jennifer always told me there were monsters in the boathouse and I needed to stay away.”

  “Your sister is partially right,” I say, leaning closer to her ear, though there’s no one around as I scan the park. “My monster cock will be there in your tight pussy. But I also disagree. You shouldn’t stay away.”

  Jess giggles as we sneak past the closed gate and run through the shadows, just as we did when were kids. The difference now is that unlike when we were kids, this time my dick is more excited. He’s not only excited; he’s growing harder with each step, each stealth move behind a rock or bush.

  “Do you think there’s anyone in there this late at night?” she asks.

 

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