Their banter is refreshing, though. I’ve missed hearing them arguing with each other. I’ll savour it while they are here, because before too long, they will be gone once again, and I’ll be alone in this house.
Well, maybe not completely alone.
Asher is here.
Even though we aren’t religious, we still do the white meat thing on Good Friday, so while Asher excuses himself to have a shower, I get started on preparing some fish before the twins step in to help me.
Eating lunch with the twins home is nice. I’ve missed them dearly, and to have Asher here is great, too. All except the way he gazes at me when the twins aren’t looking. It’s the sneaky wink. The press of his lips as he blows me a discreet kiss. The way his eyes roam up and down my body when I walk past.
Then there’s the subtle contact he makes.
Like in the kitchen, doing the dishes, he passes me a plate todry, and he deliberately brushes his fingers over mine. Or when he walks past and pinches my arse while the twins are busy arguing over who should have control of the remote. Or then there was his foot gliding up the inside of my thigh when he sat across the table from me.
He can see how uneasy I am about it. But he can also see how turned on I am.
The day has been long, and I spend some of my time worrying over telling the twins about their dad having a daughter. I told Tamara I’d tell them, even though I feel like I’ve been manipulated into it, but I know it has to be done.
Not today, though. Maybe I’ll wait until Sunday night, or maybe even Monday, before they go back to campus.
It’s late afternoon when we congregate in the living room to watch a movie. Given the situation between me and Asher, I decide to keep distance between us, and take the armchair while he and the twins fight over the couch and beanbags with the best view of the TV.
I can’t even recall what the movie is the boys put on, because in the blink of an eye, I fall asleep.
Dreams of Asher invade my mind, reliving our time in the bedroom last night when he taught me yet another thing I didn’t know I liked. Even in sleep, Asher assaults my libido, flicking it on like a switch, sending needy heat over my body.
The feel of his head between my legs and the searing press of his tongue against my clit are as real here in my dreams as they are in real life, and I chase his touch, desperate for more.
The press of a hand over my mouth startles me awake, my lids flying open, wide with confusion.
Instantly, they lock onto Asher, his head between my legs as his dark gaze bores into mine with the intensity of a freight train. I relax momentarily, knowing how much Asher enjoys having his way with me while I sleep, but then the sound of the TV reminds me where I am.
Sitting up abruptly, I’m ready to shove Asher off me, but he pushes me back down, pressing his finger to his lips.
“Shhh.”
I glance around the room frantically, finding the twins soundasleep. One on the couch, facing the other way, and the other on the floor, mouth open as he drools, facing the TV.
“Ash,” I whisper. “No. Stop.”
He shakes his head between my thighs, shifting his hand to part my legs wider before he slides three digits in.
A gasp catches in my throat, and I practically see stars as he attacks my senses with the full force of knowing he’s going to be getting me over the line fast with this technique.
How, in such a short time, has he figured out what my body wants and needs faster than I ever have?
Unable to stop myself, I roll my hips, pushing forward to suck his fingers into me as far as they can go, and I grind my clit against his tongue.
The whole scenario shouldn’t be having this effect on me. Not when my sons are only a number of feet from us, but I’m high as a kite. I’m desperate. In need. Practically frothing at the mouth to ride this high until I crash.
And I do crash, really fucking hard and fast.
The orgasm slams into me without warning, and a loud gasp flies from me before I can stop it. Shoving the back of my wrist into my mouth, I hold my breath as each wave crashes over me in a tumble of explosions.
It seems to last forever, and I should be concerned when I realise I can’t hear anything, and the edges of my vision begin to darken.
“Breathe, Angel,” Asher whispers against my ear, and it’s like he has control over my body, his command opening my throat to suck the much needed air into my lungs.
“Shit,” I whisper when my vision clears, and see Asher wearing a shit-eating-grin as he rights my knickers and tugs my dress back down over my legs.
