Knowing that didn’t help the guilt. I mean I still felt sort of selfish. I still sort of wished everything was normal, and I wasn’t me, and I was the person he could be with without all this extra bullshit, but that sort of thinking got me nowhere fast. Just a month.
The thought of finally being near him again wasn’t the only thing taking me from day to day. Mom wasn’t talking to me. She had taken my recent decisions harder than my father had. She had done this once or twice before, and we would always go back to normal after a while, but it hurt me a little that she was so upset she didn’t even want to speak to me anymore.
It had always been harder disappointing her than it had been disappointing my dad. I think it was because I felt she tried a lot harder with me. Maybe because she hadn’t given birth to me, she felt like she had to mother me extra hard since I’d never lived inside of her. It had been almost a week since I had told them, and I had been staying with Callie and Vince, but I had been back to the house almost every day.
Dad just wanted me back in treatment. He was apparently more trusting of my decision-making ability than she was, but not so trusting of my mental health. And I got it. I couldn’t imagine what it felt like fearing your kid was in that sort of trouble, and I wasn’t going to make them worry about me anymore.
I wasn’t on that ledge anymore. I didn’t need to be talked off, but the recent changes had been a little rough. In his mind, the most ideal thing would have been more inpatient treatment, this time a whole thirty-day stay, but I didn’t think I needed it anymore. I felt like a new person. While in LA, I had gone through the trouble of actually becoming another person, but all of that had been a coping mechanism that had gotten out of hand.
Whether my name was Jenny, or it was Felicity, I wasn’t spending twenty hours a day in bed. I was working. I was making friends. I was taking care of myself. I had managed to maintain a romantic relationship with someone. I wasn’t the person who I had been before going to Arizona. I felt alive, and I wanted to stay that way.
I wasn’t at the point in my life where they could tell me what to do anymore, but at my father’s request, I started to see a therapist. I was out of the woods, and Asher and I had started talking again, but if I did this, maybe I’d manage to make it so I never got to the point of needing inpatient treatment again.
My therapist at the ranch had told me that all I had to do was get through today. Thinking about the past was defeatist because it was everything I couldn’t change. Thinking about the future to the point that I couldn’t see my immediate reality was the same because anything could happen. I had to accept a certain level of powerlessness because it would let me see the things I could control.
I couldn’t tell what would happen in a month. Not really, but I could wake up today, and tomorrow and the day after that and eventually, a month would have passed, and if I did what I had to do each of those days, I’d be back in LA, with Asher, and all this would really be behind me. I’d have my new life.
Today, the thing I had to do was talk to my mother. She wasn’t going to be mad at me forever, but for the time that she was, I had to try to make amends. I had worked at her flower shop before, and I was hoping that offering to do it again would warm her up to me again. I was sure that she would have thawed out before it was time for me to leave again, but I didn’t want to chance anything. Not when I was making such progress.
I decided to go to the house and call her, asking to see her rather than ambushing her at work. I was trying to build bridges, not burn them. If she said yes, I was going to go to the shop, and we’d have lunch together.
I walked through the house, Dr. Speckles at my heels. I’d already been to the therapist that morning and had brought my laptop along so I could figure out how I was going to finish my degree in LA. I settled in the living room—the cat falling asleep next to me. I got a text message from my mother saying she was expecting me at the shop. I was getting up to go to the kitchen when the doorbell rang.
Maybe it was her. I walked to the door and pulled it open, expecting to see my mom, only it wasn’t her.
There he was.
His hazel eyes blazed when he saw me. It hadn’t been long enough for the memory of his face to have changed in my mind, but I had gone long enough without his presence to be shaken by it as he stood there. I opened my mouth to speak, but I didn’t want to say anything. I lunged forward and wrapped him in my arms. I felt his arms circle my waist, matching the desperation and urgency in my hold.
I breathed him in, shutting my eyes because when I opened them, he’d still be there. I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling over his neck, his shoulders, and his back. I didn’t want to let go when I felt his arms loosen around me. I cupped his face and kissed him. I had to know if it was still the same.
His lips parted, and his tongue pushed into my mouth. He tasted the same. His soft lips kissed the same. He pulled my head back, grasping a handful of my hair in his hand. Yes. His desire, his passion was still the same. He still wanted me. He still loved me. I pulled away to look at him. The words and questions rushed through my brain too fast for me to grasp one thing to say.
“Were you expecting someone else?” he asked, smiling. I smiled and hugged him again, full to bursting with emotion.
“How did you know I’d be here?” I asked.
“I didn’t. I just thought I’d get here, and I’d find you,” he admitted. How? I thought. What were the odds?
The same odds that had put me in front of his tattoo shop, I guessed. Did it matter? He was here. I had more questions. I had been going to the kitchen to do something. I also had to meet my mother for lunch. Each one of those things seemed a lot less important than the fact he was right there, close enough for me to touch, and be touched by.
We struggled a little getting up the stairs, but I felt a little weird, doing it on the couch with the cat in the room. We got to my bed, tumbling down onto it, his body on top of mine. He held himself up on his arms, and I wished he wouldn’t. I wanted to feel his weight on top of me. Pushing into me with everything he had.
No. I wanted to watch him. He’d come all the way here for me. I was going to make that trip worth his while. I pushed against his chest, sliding out from under him.
“Let me get on top of you,” I whispered. He looked surprised but slowly sat on the bed. I straddled him, pulling his shirt off for him. I pushed against his chest so he would lay on his back.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“Well, what do you want?” I asked. He paused before he answered, watching me pull my own t-shirt and bra off. His hand pinched one of my nipples, making me moan.
“Looks like you already know what you want,” he said. My hands went down to his jeans undoing the zipper and button.
“I want to feel your cock inside me,” I said, “I want you to watch me fuck myself on your cock till you come.” He smiled, a mixture of aroused and impressed. I didn’t consider myself the best at dirty talk, but I was so horny my tongue had run away with my imagination. I liked the other things he did to me with his body. He held me, hugged me, touched me, but we could do that shit later.
I could feel how wet I was for him, saturating my panties. His cock was hard inside his boxers. I started at his lips, planting a small sweet kiss there before I kissed his bristly chin. I kissed his neck, feeling him swallow hard in anticipation, his collarbone, his tattooed chest. I grazed my teeth over his nipple making him gasp sharply.
“Fuck,” he whispered. I glanced up to see him watching me. I did it again, that time reaching into his underwear for his dick. His flesh was hard and heavy in my hand. I ran my fingers over his crown which was leaking precum as I nipped him with my teeth again. “Do that one more time; I’m laying you down on this bed and fucking you so hard you can’t think,” he said. Not really a threat if I want it, is it now? I flattened my tongue, licking him as I used his precum to jerk the head of his dick. His head rocked back, eyes shut, letting out a shaky breath
.
“Sit on my cock,” he said. I hopped off of him, hurriedly pulling my jeans off. He was doing the same, stripping down to nothing. All the dark lines and colors of his tattoos were fondly familiar. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me into him, catching me on his lap as I lost my balance. He positioned me over his cock, lowering me down by my hips. He thrust forward, making sure I took every bit of his length.
That stretch felt delicious. He was so thick, girthy. I loved it. I ground my hips, feeding him in and out of me. He leaned back on his elbows watching me. I felt so hot. So naughty. I rode his cock faster, taking my nipples between my fingers knowing he could see me. His hand moved up my body, leaving heat as he touched me.
“Look at me,” he said throatily. I met his eyes, two dark pools of desire. He sat up, grabbing me around the waist. My arms went around his neck to steady myself. His powerful hands held my hips and pulled me towards him, driving his cock inside me from another impossibly full angle. I leaned back, holding his thighs for leverage, letting him fuck me.
I fought to draw it out as long as I could before it became too much as I surrendered to the sensations, giving my body over to the intense release. Asher came soon after, holding me still on his lap for moments after he had. He sunk back onto the bed and waited for me to join him. Just some blissful silence before we could come back to reality.
“How long are you staying?” I asked, taking in the sight of him in my room. I had never had sex with a guy on that bed—not even Ben.
“Not long. I had to reschedule a few people to be here today.”
“Don’t do that,” I said, frowning. “I don’t want to get in the way of your work.”
“I knew what I was doing coming here,” he said. “I had to see you.”
“This wasn’t what I meant when I wanted you to wait for me.”
“I’m a lot weaker than you, babe,” he said, running his hand over my hip.
“We need some rules if we’re doing this,” I said pointedly. “You’re canceling appointments, and I’m getting late. It’s just one month.”
“I need you, Felicity. Three hours in the air is nothing.” I sat up on my knees, making him sitting up too.
“You’re allowed one more visit after this one. I won’t be able to get anything done if you’re here.”
“You have to call me every day,” he said. “Video chat.” I smirked, knowing why the visual element was so important to him.
“You have to let me do what I have to do.”
“You can’t forget about me,” he said. I paused. He wasn’t. Was he afraid I’d move on? How? With whom? I wanted him so much.
“You can’t take anybody home,” I countered.
“How do I know you’ll still be the same when this month’s over and it’s time to come back?” he asked.
“Some parts of me won’t be. I barely know the person I was before I went to LA anymore. A lot of things can change, Asher, but I know I’m still going to be in love with you.”
“How do I know that?”
“Because I’m telling you. I’m making you a promise.” I reached for his hand. “I want to be good enough for you. When I come back to LA, I will be. You don’t have to keep checking up on me here. Just get ready to see me again when I come back.”
“Do I still get my one visit?” he asked.
“Just one,” I replied smiling. “I have to leave. And so do you.” He grudgingly got up off the bed, going to get his clothes back on. I cleaned up and got changed. I made an extra sandwich in the kitchen for him when we went downstairs. He waited till I was ready to leave so we could go at the same time.
“I’ll call before I drop by next time,” he said. I thanked him and kissed him, letting him leave before I did. A proper goodbye. One with a promise of tomorrow.
23
Asher
Two months later
“You didn’t have to do this.” Felicity was leaning against the side of my car. I walked around from the back of my car to grab her other suitcase and get it in the trunk.
“I had to make sure you actually came this time,” I said. She had two large suitcases and one duffel bag. The duffel could go in the back seat since it didn’t look like it would fit in the trunk.
“That’s not fair,” she protested. I slammed the trunk shut and walked up to her. She had changed her hair since I’d last seen her—cut it a little shorter. The colder temperature had made her cheeks pink, and she had a scarf on; it was already almost winter. We had agreed on a month initially. One month. That was one month too long, but I’d give it to her if she really needed it. She’d drawn it out. Her parents had been nervous about letting her go again after the way she’d been before rehab, and she had had some trouble getting someone to give her an affordable short-term lease in LA. She had had some health stuff too, with her pills, adjusting her dosage, and making sure she’d still be able to get her prescription filled when she moved.
We’d fought about it a few times. It had never been her. It had been me. I was impatient. Two months had never felt so long before. It wasn’t a long time objectively, but when it was the time that I had to wait to see her again, it felt like ages. I could only beat off so much. You sort of lost the point of sex when you had to do it over Skype. I could imagine her sucking my dick, but half the time, I just hated that she was so far away. That if I wanted to hold her, kiss her, smell her hair; I’d have to drive for a day or get on a plane.
We talked every day, and I had been up to see her on her birthday, but this time, I wasn’t leaving alone. I held her waist and kissed her on her nose. It was cold from the wind.
“I didn’t want to spend another minute without you,” I said. She ran her hands up my arms, to my shoulders.
“You shouldn’t have made the drive. I could have flown down and met you at the airport.” I shook my head. If you were talking about what was practical, and what was easier, yeah. She could have made the flight down. I could have made the drive to the airport to pick her up. The whole thing could have taken like five hours tops. Practical and easy wasn’t the point here. It was seeing her again.
We weren’t going back to LA just to hang out. She had an apartment, and a job lined up. She was going back to school in January. She wasn’t going to be in my house, to have whenever I wanted, pretend like she didn’t have anything but me. It was real now. She was starting her new life, and if I got seventeen hours of her to myself, driving from Seattle to LA, I wasn’t saying no to that.
“If you act any more excited about this, your parents might start to think this is a bad idea.” She sighed looking up at me through her lashes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Yeah, but good nervous. The last time I left this place, I was sure I was coming right back. I had nowhere to go but back here.”
“I’d say it’s a little late to bail right now, babe,” I said.
“I know.” She wrapped her arms around me, hugging me. “Thank you for coming. I can’t wait for our road trip.” I kissed her, pushing my tongue in her mouth because her parents were still inside and once we went back in to say bye I’d have to act like I wasn’t the guy fucking their daughter.
I still wasn’t sure whether or not they liked me. We were moving to LA, so if they didn’t, it wasn’t that much of a problem, but it was smart to get in good with your girl’s parents. I wasn’t going anywhere; they’d have to get used to me. They had given me the guest room to spend the night in the night before, and we’d tried to stay quiet while we had sex, but it had been weeks since we had fucked on her birthday and both of us were making up for lost time.
I’d never met a girl’s parents before, you know, on purpose, but in this situation, I hadn’t had a choice. Liss and I were together. I wasn’t letting her go. I wasn’t worried about what my mother would think. She’d seen pictures and talked to Felicity on the phone, but she still didn’t believe me when I said she was my girlfriend. I had a little troub
le with it too. It felt stupid calling her that because that wasn’t all she was. She wasn’t just my girlfriend. She was my… mine. All of it. My everything. I’d never made a habit of thinking about the future too much, but every single tomorrow was one that I would spend with her.
“You ready to leave?”
“Right after we tell them bye,” she said. She took my hand and pulled me back toward the house after her. I pulled back, making her stop and look back to me.
“We?” I asked.
“Yes, we,” she said. “It’s a little too late for you to bail now too.” I pulled her into me, kissing her again. Thank fuck we were getting out of here. The distance was killing me. We weren’t moving in together. She wouldn’t be in my bed when I got up in the morning. We wouldn’t be spending the day at work together either, but it was something. I sucked her tongue into my mouth, holding onto her through her layers of clothes. She wouldn’t need all that in LA either.
We heard someone loudly clear their throat. Her stepmother was on the porch with her arms crossed, smirking down at us. Felicity quickly wriggled out of my arms, taking my hand instead and walking us back into the house. They didn’t grill me too bad once we were back inside. Just asked us to come back for Christmas since my mom was getting us for Thanksgiving and told us not to be strangers. We were on the road soon after, right on schedule.
Felicity offered to drive part of the way down so we wouldn’t have to make any stops. We were leaving at night so we’d get there the next day, before noon if we were lucky. I’d rescheduled my appointments for the next couple of days, and Liss didn’t start work until the next week. I just wanted a few days. Even just one where it was just the two of us again. All I wanted was a couple of days alone before life began again for real and I’d never reschedule appointments to fuck my girlfriend again.
Just the two of us. We went in and out of conversation comfortably during the ride. She sat in the passenger seat, pointing things out outside the window. Visiting her the week after she’d left LA had been the first time I’d been to the Pacific Northwest. I didn’t know a lot about Seattle, besides it was wet and it was where she’d been born. As far as making this drive again, I was ready to take a pass, but I felt we’d probably be making the drive a lot more, up and down the I-10.
Asher (Heartbreakers & Troublemakers Book 6) Page 18