by London James
Ash holds my hand the whole way to his place, sometimes looking over at me with such warm affection that it lights me up.
Being back at his house after a break is strange, like coming home from being on vacation for a while. It still looks and smells the same, but Sarge hasn’t come running up to greet us.
“He’s at doggy daycare,” Ash explains. “Shit, we have to figure out daycare and nannies and all that, don’t we?”
“Eventually, yeah.” I hang my coat up. “But maybe not today? Let’s just hang out.”
“Agreed.” He kisses my forehead and takes my hand, guiding me to the living room. We curl up next to each other, closing the gap that we always kept between us. I’m the little spoon to his big spoon, my bump just barely staying on the couch. He turns on Netflix and picks Star Trek: The Next Generation. I didn’t think I’d like the show, but Ash has convinced me otherwise.
I snuggle closer to him. This is the best way to skip out on work—the rain is pouring down, and Ash is warm and comforting. His hand skims my belly, tentatively, then with more confidence.
“This is so weird,” he whispers quietly. “Not in a bad way. But I wasn’t expecting for you to be actually showing.”
“I’m five or so months along, Ash. I’m only going to get bigger.” I lace my fingers through his.
He goes quiet for a bit until I feel his boner popping up against my back. He scoots backward, but I grab him by the hip.
“Why are you trying to hide your hard-on?” I ask. I wish I could roll over to face him gracefully, but I can’t without falling off the couch.
“I don’t know. Do you want to? Can you even have sex without anything getting messed up?” he asks, sounding embarrassed.
I laugh. “Yeah, I can. It’s not like your dick can hurt anything. The baby’s behind like fifty layers of fluid and membranes and whatnot.”
“Thank god,” he says in my ear, reaching around my body, touching my thighs. I feel myself get wet almost immediately. “I haven’t stopped wanting you. And I think you look particularly sexy right now.”
I snort. “Is it because my boobs are gigantic now?”
“That’s about ten percent of it,” he says. “Get up; let’s go to my bedroom.”
He helps me to my feet and pulls me up the stairs to his bedroom. I haven’t been inside of it before, but it is very Ash—modern, simple, and clean. His bed is simple, as is the armchair across the room next to a side table stacked with books. There’s a dog bed on the floor next to the human bed, but it looks relatively unused. I imagine Sarge sleeps cuddled up with him. How is that going to work when we sleep together? Chunk would have to be curled up on one side and Sarge on the other. Hopefully they won’t use our bodies as a battleground.
Ash grabs me and kisses me, gently, backing me up against the bed. I thread my fingers through his hair and down to his new beard. It makes him look distinguished.
“I like this,” I murmur, stepping back to look at him.
“I’m glad you like how it looks now. I’m not sure if you’ll be saying the same thing when you’re going to get some beard burn between your thighs.” He grabs the bottom of my sweater dress and pulls it over my head, then tugs down my leggings. My bra is far from sexy, but from the way he looks at me, I might as well be wearing expensive lingerie.
He unclips the bra and lets it fall open.
“Holy shit,” he gasps, his eyes widening as he cups my breasts. They were sizeable before, but I’ve gone up two whole cup sizes. “This is an amazing side effect.”
“So says you. Your back isn’t the one being strained.” I arch into his hands as he tweaks a nipple. It’s so intense that I suck in a breath. Wow, that is new. I had sensitive nipples before, but this is a whole new level, in a good way.
“Mm, but you like it too, don’t you?” He swipes his tongue across my left nipple, then my right. His voice has dipped into that low register that makes me squirm.
“Yes,” I smile, clutching his shoulders. I can’t grind up against him the way I want to with the bump in the way, to my frustration. So I scramble backward onto the bed, grabbing his shirt and pulling him to me. I kiss him with everything I have, nipping his bottom lip and letting our tongues slide together just enough to be tantalizing.
He kisses down the side of my neck to my belly, which he touches gently before placing a kiss right above my bellybutton. Then he yanks off my underwear and tosses it across the room with flair.
“What if I need those later? You’re going to make me get out your cozy bed to grab them?” I grin, working on the buttons of his shirt.
“You’re not going to need panties any time soon, Briony.” The look in his eyes makes me shiver. “And you’re not leaving this bed until I’m done with you.”
“Oh, so we live in this bed now?” I give him a cheeky grin.
“More or less.” He gives me the same grin right back and crawls over me, burying his face in my breasts again and sucking on them. The sensation is almost overwhelmingly pleasurable like I could come without him even touching me between my legs.
I reach between us and play with my clit as he loses himself in my cleavage, focusing only on the incredible warm sensation flowing through me. Ash’s beard is ticklish, yet soft, and when he rubs it gently across my breasts, planting kisses up and down my neck and cleavage, it ignites fires in me I haven’t felt for too long.
All of the feelings and emotions cascade through me, and it sends rushes of pleasure and adrenaline shooting down my spine like a bullet. Before I know it, I manage to bring myself off in a startlingly short amount of time. It’s been a long time since I’d gotten any—since the time way back in July—but goddamn. That is unusual. Not that I mind.
“That was nice, wasn’t it?” He touches me where my fingers just were, making me twitch. “You’re soaking, baby.”
“I need you right now,” I gasp, grabbing his erection with probably a little too much gusto through his boxers. He sucks in a breath and braces himself with one hand on the mattress. I push his underwear down and grab him again, stroking his large, thick shaft until his breathing is heavy and his legs are trembling. I glance back at the armchair. “Come here.”
I hop off the bed and push him to sit in the chair. The moment he’s settled, my mouth is on his cock. He throws his head back and moans, clutching the arms of the seat and squirming. I hold his hips down, so he doesn’t thrust into my mouth, taking my sweet time covering every inch of him with my mouth. He makes the most beautiful sounds in the back of his throat when I touch him in just the right way.
“Oh, holy fuck,” he blurts when I suck one of his balls into my mouth. I release it and look up at him, grinning. “More of that.”
“More of that what?” I play with them in my hands, measuring their weight in my palm.
“More of all of that. Please.” He looks down at me, his face flushed and eyes wild. “And look at me while you do it.”
I do as he asks, locking eyes with him as I suck him off, taking him right to the edge and backing off, again and again. He looks delicious from this angle, his Adam’s apple bobbing and the muscles of his neck and shoulders tensing whenever I hit just the right spot.
“Please, baby,” he groans, grabbing my hair in his fist. “God, you’re so fucking good at that.”
“More?”
“No, or I’ll come all over the place. I want to be inside of you.”
He gestures for me to hop onto his lap and slides his hips forward a bit. This gives us enough space for my bump and any other weird movements he’s planning on doing. I slide onto him slowly and oh my god, that feels amazing.
“What? Are you okay?” he asks, suddenly alarmed. He cups my face. “Am I hurting you?”
“Ah, I think the extra blood flow down there is making a big difference.” I swallow. “Definitely not pain.”
“Oh.” He grins devilishly and gently thrusts upward, making my eyes roll back into my head. Whatever is happening down there is overw
helming my senses, making my eyelids flutter. I can’t believe it feels so good. He grabs my hips and grinds up into me, pressing his lips against my chest. “Goddamn, you’re beautiful.”
I can’t speak, but I can look him in the eye, feeling like the entire world has shrunken down to just the two of us. The pleasure is making us both babble absolute nonsense pleasure words, but it is perfect. I feel the wave building and building until it crests, making me lose my breath and cry out so loudly that I startle myself.
Once we both come down from our highs, we sit here, looking at each other and laughing. After everything that’s happened, just being here with him, not worrying about anything else, is the best thing I could have asked for.
Epilogue
Ash
I bet a thousand dollars on whether Ben would cry during the wedding. His other groomsman, Jay, bet that he wouldn’t.
I’ve just won the bet. Ben is crying. Thug tears, as he insists, as if he isn’t from the suburbs of the city, but still. He’s a complete softie and isn’t ashamed. I look over Ben’s shoulder at Briony, who’s next to Daisy, looking beautiful as hell in her bridesmaid dress. It shows off her growing bump and plays up how radiant she is. I’ve never seen her with her hair and makeup done up, and it’s a nice change of pace. She looks perfect either way. I’m supposed to be paying attention to the bride, but all of my attention is on my girl.
Well, girls, technically, if you count the baby. I wanted to know what we were having the minute we could, but she wants to stay in the dark until the actual birth. So now I have the weight of that massive secret in the back of my mind. I’m so excited that I’ve nearly spilled the secret at least twice.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the minister says, stepping back.
Ben scoops Daisy up and lays one on her, making her squeak in surprise. When they finally come up for air, Daisy is laughing, clutching his jacket lapels. They make their exit, the guests cheering in raucous applause. I link my arm in Briony’s and follow them out into the hallway.
Things get a little chaotic from there—Ben and Daisy have to sign the marriage license, while the photographer has to set up the group photos. The guests go down to cocktail hour. The group photos are taken in a flurry, and Ben and Daisy are whisked off to the roof of the building to take their couple’s photos.
Everything has to be done before midnight, which is when they want to be announced as a married couple for the first time. Of course, Ben and Daisy had to have their wedding on New Years’ Eve. Totally normal thing to do, right?
Briony sits down when the photos are finally done, and we join the cocktail hour, sighing and putting her hand on her belly. I sit down next to her.
“Not sure if this is gas from the seltzer or if the baby’s doing some parkour in here.” She looks down.
“Maybe both?”
“Maybe. That’s not a particularly sexy thing for you to know, is it?” she grins.
“A lot of this whole experience isn’t particularly sexy, but it’s pretty wild.” I squeeze her hand.
Since she’s accepted me back into her life, I’ve gotten a crash course on pregnancy and the perils of almost being a dad. I’ve transformed from the guy who was too scared to even talk about his feelings to the Brooklyn pre-dad I was scared I would become.
When B and I are together, people strike up conversations with us, sharing anecdotes and tips. I… really like it. I didn’t know I would as much as I do. Maybe all those dads hopped up on oat lattes pushing strollers around the park are onto something.
I love having Briony live with me, too. She quit her job right after Thanksgiving and has made herself a little home office to work on BloomBrightly within my study. I come home every day to her cooking actual dinner, which sometimes has mixed results. But I don’t give a shit because I’m so goddamn happy.
The therapist I go to asked me why I was so scared of being happy when I first told him about my complicated feelings. If the highs are too high, the lows would be too low. But I’ve started to let the good in, and it feels really good. There are the obvious things like snuggling and sex and having the woman who’s quickly become my best friend around all the time. And then there’s the lack of stress from not having my piece-of-shit dad around anymore.
He called and called once he realized that I’d essentially cut him off, but I haven’t responded. It’s easier to create a clean break for both of us. He doesn’t even know that he’s going to be a grandfather. I’m not sure when or if I’ll tell him, but I sure as shit won’t let him do anything to fuck with my kid’s head. I would rip him limb from limb without hesitation.
Jesus. Briony says that she feels a weird, primal protection when she thinks about the baby, but I’m just as bad.
“Mm, come on. They’re about to do the entrance thing,” Briony beckons, standing up. I hold her by the elbow, and she glares at me. “I’m fine, Ash. I can stand up by myself.”
“Just let me help, okay?” I kiss her forehead.
We join the rest of our friends and family in the main hall of the party room and wait. I look at my watch. We have thirty seconds left until midnight. Ben and Daisy come in with the DJ blasting “Willennium” by Will Smith, the dorks, laughing their asses off.
“Ten seconds! Nine seconds!” the DJ yells. The crowd joins in the countdown.
I slide my arm around Briony’s waist and cup her face with the other. Her huge brown eyes are wide with excitement and affection.
“Happy New Year!” the DJ says, and the couple of the hour kisses.
I kiss Briony’s lips, soft and slow, then her cheek, then her forehead. She sighs and leans into me, content.
“Happy New Year,” she whispers. “Love you.”
“Love you too.” And it’s incredibly easy to say. What I’m going to do next isn’t easy, though. “Want to get some air? I think your parents are going to try to do the whip nae nae, and I’m not sure if either of us could handle that without going blind.”
She laughs. “Yes, please. It’s hot in here anyway.”
I lead her upstairs and to the roof, which has heated lamps and blankets. I sit down next to her on a bench, throwing a blanket over her shoulders and pulling her close. Despite the heaters, it’s still chilly.
“It’s so nice up here,” she marvels, leaning against me. “Are those stars?”
I look up. The light pollution is bad, but there’s one, twinkling to our left. “Yeah, there’s one.”
“Make a wish, then,” she says, looking back at me before closing her eyes. I take that moment to shift the little black box in my pocket to the bench, behind my thigh where she won’t see it. “What’d you wish for?”
“I can’t tell you.” I swallow. “But I can ask you to marry me.”
I put the box in my lap and open it. It’s simple—a solitary emerald cut diamond on a platinum band. I had no idea what she would like, but based on the jewelry she wears, it seems about right. Or at least that’s what the person at the jewelry store told me…
“What?!” Briony shouts, looking between me and the ring. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Is that a good ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ or a bad one?” I ask, breaking into a sweat.
“A good one, of course.” She kisses me again, and I feel her tears on my cheeks. “Oh my god. Why now?”
“I didn’t want to steal Ben and Daisy’s thunder, but I wanted to start the new year off right. And I want to marry you.” I shrug, feeling hot under the collar. “Um, I’m still not sure if that was a yes or not.”
“Oh, it was a yes. Come here.” She kisses me again and again, sometimes pulling back to look at me or the ring or her baby bump. “I don’t want to roll back into the wedding wearing this, but can I try it on? We can tell everyone in a week or two. I want a fun secret to hold on to.”
I pull it out of the box and slide it onto her finger. It fits perfectly, thank god. She holds her hand up and eyes the ring, grinning.
“It’s so beautif
ul, Ash.”
I want to take a picture of her right at this moment, her eyes bright and her smile wide. She looks absolutely perfect. And my lucky ass gets to see her every day for the rest of my life.
THE END
Boss I Love To Hate (Sneak Peek)
To the Boss I Love to Hate,
1.) I hate that you make me come at your every beck and call.
2.) I hate your gorgeous cocky smile, and how you don’t know me at all.
3.) I hate the way you stare at me as if I was your most precious thing.
4.) I hate your expensive Italian suits.
5.) I hate our one-night fling.
6.) I hate that you’re always wrong, but your ego is too big to see it.
7.) I hate how awkward you acted, when I told you I was pregnant.
8.) I hate how you crept into my heart, and how deeply you cared for me.
9.) Lastly, even though you represent everything I hate…
I hate that I fell for you just like every other girl you know.
Sawyer West… I love you, and I hate that I love you.
If only I could be certain you’re no longer the boy from college I once knew.
With our baby girl on the way, could we truly make us work?
If only we weren’t so different, then maybe things could be so different…
P.S.- I still hate working for you.
Berlin Roth
Click here to read Boss I Love To Hate now.
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