by Nicole Dykes
“We were.” Now his natural smile is back as he shakes his head. “I swear. She’s in my algebra class. We were supposed to be studying, and she hopped on my lap and started kissing me.”
“And her top just flew off.”
“I got lost in the moment.” His eyes meet mine, but they aren’t as cold as they were a moment ago. “I know that’s not something you do often, but come on, Viv. Even you’ve been there.”
I’m starting to think I never should have told him the personal details of my hookup with Colt. I know I overreacted, but I don’t want to admit it.
“Sebastian is three. He doesn’t need to be exposed to that.”
“I swear it wasn’t planned. I was about to take her downstairs.”
I swallow, not liking the feeling in my gut thinking about him taking that girl down to his room. “Fine. Please don’t let it happen again.”
“I won’t.”
“Now get out. I need a shower.”
He stands up, walking to me, way too close, his eyes exploring mine, making me feel exposed, wondering what he’s thinking because he’s not saying anything.
His voice is a gruff whisper, his eyes locking onto mine. “I’m really sorry.”
My throat goes dry, my brain unable to form a sentence as I stare at his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss them. They’re so full and pouty, kind of girly but so incredibly sexy, and the rest of him is masculine as hell. “I was too harsh.”
He smiles, the smirk crooked and so sinfully appealing. “You can’t ever be too hard on me, Viv.” His voice is back to the whisper as his mouth slides to my ear. “I like it.”
I feel a shiver through my body as I try to keep my breathing normal, watching him open my door and exit my room.
This is bad. Maybe he was right, and I am, in fact, jealous.
Things have pretty much gone back to normal, at least for the most part. The rest of last week blew by, and so did this one. I decided to take Nora up on her offer to take Sebastian overnight. When I told him, he was giddy about the idea.
I tried not to take his little happy dance too personally. But I’m happy he’s going to get some time with Nora, knowing that she’s an amazing person.
“Okay, your mom should be here soon. I’m going to go pack a bag.” Sebastian and Asher are playing some game on Baz’s tablet, and Asher looks up.
“My mom’s coming?”
Men. “Yeah. I told you, Sebastian is going to stay the night with his grandma tonight.”
Sebastian lights up and looks over at me still with the same level of excitement. “It’s going to be fun!”
I want to be happy, but I have to admit I’m extremely nervous. I’ve never spent a night away from my little guy.
Sebastian goes back to his game, but Asher senses my apprehension. “He’s going to be fine.”
I nod my head as I take a seat in the comfy white chair next to the couch they’re sitting on. “I know. There’s no one I trust more than Nora.”
“Yeah. She’s great with kids.”
Then why won’t you go home and see her? I want to ask the question swimming around in my brain, but I don’t pry. “I know. And he adores her.”
“She’ll make it fun. I’m sure she has a whole night planned of movies and sugar. She makes the best chocolate chip cookies.”
I smile at that. “She bakes?”
He looks over at me like I’m crazy, but the closest my own mother ever came to an oven was barking orders at the family cook. “Yeah. She loves it.”
I let out a heavy breath, trying to stay calm. “Good.”
“You know, if he wants to come home, she’ll either bring him or call you right away.”
“She mentioned that. I know she will.”
“I don’t want to come home,” Baz whines, and I shake my head, standing and ruffling his unruly hair.
“I know, sweetie. You don’t have to. You’re going to have so much fun.”
I keep repeating that as I walk upstairs and go into his room, looking at the blue walls and the baby picture on his dresser. One of me holding him in a rocking chair when he was fussy and teething but wanted to cuddle with me. Then one on his second birthday with cake all over his face.
Time goes way too fast.
“My mom’s here.”
I hear Asher’s voice coming from the doorway and turn around to face him. “Okay.”
I walk to Baz’s closet and pull out a navy overnight bag and fill it with his little clothes but freeze when I feel Asher’s large body behind mine. “He’ll be okay.”
“I know. It’s just crazy how he’s already three and wanting to be independent.”
“I’m pretty sure he still needs you.” I feel his breath on the back of my neck, and that familiar shiver is back, spreading through my body.
“I know I still need him.”
I turn around to face Asher, even after over three years of knowing him, I’m still unprepared for the sheer handsomeness of his face. “What are you going to do tonight?”
Worry until I finally pass out. “I’m not sure. Maybe read. Might watch a movie.”
“I’m going to dinner and a movie with some friends and then a party. You wanna go?”
Knowing his friends probably include Bianca, I reply, “No thanks.”
“You sure? Being home alone all night may not be the best.”
“Actually,” I turn around to finish packing, “that’s exactly what tonight is about. Being alone. Having uninterrupted adult time and sleep for the first time in years. So I’m going to take advantage of it.”
If I can get out of my own head.
I finish packing, and we walk toward the door together. “He really will be okay, and you do deserve the night, but you could at least come out to dinner.”
It’s a little tempting, but I don’t really want to be around people.
“I think I’m going to take the quiet.”
He smiles, and we walk downstairs to greet Nora. I hug Baz way too tightly for way too long before he leaves with Nora after Asher installs his car seat in her car. He waves happily from the backseat, and I hold back my tears, plastering a smile on my face.
Asher wraps a reassuring arm around my shoulder as he holds me tightly to him and the car goes out of view. “He’s fine.”
I bury my head in his chest, not caring that the contact is probably inappropriate, and I smile when I feel his other arm wrap around me.
I stay in the moment, resting against his ridiculously hard chest and breathing him in, missing my son and hating how good Asher’s body feels against my own.
Maybe I should have installed that app on my phone for tonight.
I wonder if I am capable of a random hookup.
His hands cup my face as he lifts it up to look at him. “Come with me. I don’t want to leave you like this.”
I wipe away the one tear that escaped as he continues to hold onto my face. “I’m fine. I’m going to go take a bath, order dinner, and go downstairs to watch a movie. I’ll be fine.”
He looks concerned but releases me. “Text me if you change your mind, okay?”
I nod my head, and we both know I won’t.
He leaves to meet his friends at the restaurant, and I do exactly what I said . . . I go upstairs and take a bath. I change into black shorts and an oversized white t-shirt, skipping the bra and go downstairs to order from my favorite local restaurant.
After I eat and check in with Nora for the second time, I decide it’s time to relax, pour a glass of wine into a stemless wineglass and head down to the theater room.
I put on one of my favorite horror movies and sip my wine, trying to enjoy the silence around me.
My mind drifts to the way Asher held me and how much I miss having adult male contact. It doesn’t help that the couple on screen is getting down and dirty in their camp counselor bunk bed.
Maybe the wine was a bad idea. I feel the alcohol heat my cheeks and my body craving touch. Any contact.
Some sort of relief.
I place the wine in the cup holder, and my eyes take in the couple on the screen, knowing they’re about to be brutally attacked but getting lost in the bare skin and kissing on the screen.
Closing my eyes, I recline the seat and let my hand travel under my shirt to my hardened nipples, feeling my breasts and wishing it wasn’t my hand.
It’s wrong. I know it is, but my fantasies always feature light brown hair, square jaw, hazel, smoldering eyes . . .
I bite my bottom lip as my other hand travels under my shorts and then underneath my cotton panties, feeling that I’m already wet and aroused by a moment of thinking about Asher. His hands. What it would feel like with his large hands on me. His lips.
My head tips back as my fingers find my swollen clit, and I do something I never allow myself to do.
I get lost.
I made it through dinner but decided to skip the movie and the party. I can’t leave Viv alone all night knowing she misses Baz. Her obsessive mind has probably gone over every single bad thing that could go wrong at least twice by now.
I kick my shoes off by the door and look around the dark house, figuring out she’s probably in the basement watching a horror movie.
While she’s home alone.
Because she’s afraid of everything else. But masked psycho killers? Not a problem.
I smile at that, shaking my head as I make my way down the stairs and to the theater room, hearing a soft moan from the doorway and looking at the screen first, thinking it came from there.
It didn’t. The people on the screen are running for their lives. My eyes instantly dart to the recliner where Vivienne is. The chair is leaned back, and so is Viv’s head. It’s tilted into the plush chair, and her teeth are biting her bottom lip.
My eyes trail down to her white t-shirt, seeing she has one hand under it, cupping her full, perky right tit, the left is pressed against the fabric showing me how hard her nipple is.
Fuck. Me.
My dick hardens in my jeans to a nearly painful level when I lower my eyes to where her other hand disappears under her black shorts.
“Holy fuck.”
She gasps, her eyes snapping over to mine. The room is only lit by the big screen, but I can see everything. Shit, did I say that out loud?
I think I did.
“Asher?”
I can’t move. I can’t fucking move. I should. I know that, but I can’t get my body to move or my eyes to stop fucking staring at this gorgeous woman touching her own body, bringing herself so close to a release I know she desperately needs.
“Fuck.”
It’s all I can say, and her hands have stopped moving, but she doesn’t move them away from her most sensitive parts, her small body frozen in my gaze.
We don’t move.
Finally I get my brain to form another word. “Sorry.”
She’s panting. Her breasts rising and falling with each breath as she watches me, her eyes lowering to the now very noticeable bulge in my jeans and then back to my face. “You’re home.”
I nod stupidly. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”
She still hasn’t removed her hands. How wet is she? How close was she to coming?
The thoughts are dangerous.
“I should go though. Maybe I can still catch the movie.”
Because that’s what I fucking want right now, a movie with Bianca, Sawyer, Nadia, and Porter.
Not to be balls deep inside of Viv.
Just keep telling yourself that, asshole. Move your fucking legs.
“Don’t go.”
What the fuck did she just say? I look at her in confusion and see that the hand over her breast has started to move again. I watch the movement, making an educated guess that she’s squeezing her breast, maybe her nipple. “Viv . . .”
“You’re not touching me. It’s not breaking the rules.”
I swallow, trying to wet my now very dry throat, making it almost painful to swallow. “I can’t watch this.”
The hand inside her shorts starts to move, and I think I might pass out from lack of blood in any other part of my body other than my cock. “Why? You don’t like it?”
I let out an audible groan as I watch her, my hands actually physically aching to touch her. “Of course I do.”
“So then, watch.” Her eyes meet mine as the hand inside her shorts moves faster, and she bites her bottom lip, making eye contact that I could come from. She looks more confident now than I’ve ever seen her be.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Her voice is husky as she rubs herself, my cock strains against my constrictive jeans, and I want to give in. I want to go over to her and take over, but watching her use her own body is something that will stay with me forever.
“Because it’s wrong.”
Why does that make it so much hotter?
“So then, make it even.” My right eyebrow lifts as she tips her head back and moans softly, letting me know just how good she’s feeling. “Touch yourself.”
The words are a fucking song moaned from the sexy siren side of Viv I’ve never seen before and like way too much.
“Viv.”
Her chin tips down again so I can see her eyes as the hand under her shirt slides down to the hem, lifting it over her smooth, toned stomach and up to the bottom of her full tits, showing only a hint of them. But it’s enough to make me lean back against the wall, my knees feeling weak along with the rest of me.
“Just give in, Asher. Lose control.”
She’s telling me to lose control? Holy fuck, she must want this bad.
I can’t do this. I shouldn’t do this.
Her voice strains with her sexy arousal, and I’m fucking dying. “I’m already close. You have to catch up.”
Her voice is sultry and so fucking sexy. I can’t resist as she bites that fucking bottom lip again, her head tipping back as her hand works inside her shorts.
My hand slides to the button of my jeans, flicking it open as her eyes slide down my torso and to the action of my hand. I slide the zipper down and reach into them, grasping my swollen cock, knowing exactly how wrong this is and knowing we can’t go back.
I watch her swallow, her delicate throat bobbing with her action as she rubs herself. I’d kill for that to be my hand in those panties.
“Just so you know, you may not be physically touching me, but in my mind, it’s your fingers sliding inside of me right now,” she groans and so do I as I pull my hand out of my pants and bring it to my mouth, using my tongue to lick it, supplying the only amount of lube I have at the moment.
“Oh my God, it’s your spit sliding over my clit as you rub me,” she moans. And it sounds almost painful as she watches me, and I reach into my jeans again, gripping my cock and mixing the saliva with the precum at the tip of my dick, dying to be inside her.
“You’re so fucking hot, Viv.”
I think about what it would feel like to be inside her instead of my hand wrapping around my cock.
“I’m so close, Asher,” she gasps, her raspy voice filling the air between us as I keep my distance.
My fist pumps faster on my cock as I watch her back arch in the chair. “Me too.”
“Are you picturing my hand wrapped around you?”
I shake my head and meet her eyes. “No.” She looks hurt as she pauses her movements, and my hoarse voice barely manages to speak through tightly clenched teeth. “Your tight. Wet. Pussy.”
Her head tilts back, her eyes rolling back as her tits press up, and her hand moves faster, her other hand squeezing her breast as she writhes against her hand, the visual too much for me as I jerk off to the sight.
Her strangled cry is too much for me as I know she’s coming and hot cum spurts from my cock, making a mess that I couldn’t give a fuck about while we both find an insane release.
One we will never come back from.
One we will most definitely pay for.
She’s pant
ing, and so am I as we come down from the high, our eyes locking. She doesn’t look away. She doesn’t look ashamed or shy as she pulls her hand from her shorts. I want to lick her fingers clean and fuck her until neither of us can move, but now my feet work as I zip my jeans and leave the room, going straight to mine and closing the door.
So much for being strong. Vivienne Crenshaw is, no doubt, my weakness.
Okay, last night was a little . . . What’s the word? Intense?
Yeah. It was intense. I’m still not sure what came over me, but when I was touching myself, thinking about Asher and then opened my eyes with him standing right there, a part of me just transformed into the strong, confident woman I yearn to be.
I’m tired of being predictable, perfect, poised Vivienne. I’m tired of doing everything the right way and still being a fuckup in my parents’ eyes. I’m tired of just plain not being seen.
Last night, I let Asher see me. The real me, vulnerable and unencumbered.
Of course, in the sober light of day, I’m teetering between total mortification and delight in discovering my own strength.
My cheeks heat, thinking about his hand sliding into his jeans. The way the veins in his forearm tightened as he brought himself pleasure. I wanted so desperately for him to touch me, but I’m also satisfied with our actions last night.
We both got off without touching each other and breaking his rules. No harm, no foul.
I hear his footsteps on the stairs coming up from the basement, and my breath catches in my throat with the anticipation of seeing him.
Don’t be stupid.
I take the ceramic bowl containing my favorite maple and brown sugar oatmeal out of the microwave and place it on the counter as he walks in, wearing only a pair of gray sweats. His hair is tousled and messy from his slumber. He looks absolutely flawless, and I try not to notice the deep cut V as his sweats sit low on his hips.
Okay, Vivienne, show him that this is no big deal. That you can be a casual girl, you can do this.
I clear my throat after my mental pep talk and smile at him as he approaches. “Good morning. I made some oatmeal, but you can have it, and I’ll make another one if you’d like.”