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Bonus Scenes from the Men of Kicking Reality
ASHLEY CHASE
“Babe, just one more minute,” I beg her through strained vocals, “… not even… like twenty fucking seconds.”
She’s doing that thing with her mouth, wrapping her tongue around me while she literally has me by the balls. Holding them delicately in her hand, she tugs on them with enough force to make me crumble in pleasure which sends signals to every fucking part of my body that shit’s gonna get real.
I love watching her—sexy with her hair a wild mess in the palm of my hands. Her eyes divert to the coffee table again, distracting me slightly. I rein her in to focus on me, selfish I know, using my hands to put her focus back on my dick. The most important thing in the room right now.
The warm feeling disappears as she withdraws, disconnecting the heat that comes from her twister tongue.
“Ashley, you really should see what’s on your phone in case it’s important,” she suggests, catching her breath and licking her lips.
My girl is sexy on her knees. Well fuck, she’s sexy every which way I look at her.
Bending down, I cup her chin in my hand and stare into her eyes. She’s always grinning, cute dimples that distract any rational thoughts I have because I can’t turn her mischievous face away.
My dick won’t let up, begging to be finished off despite the constant interruptions.
“Fuck,” I mumble under my breath, leaning forward to grab my cell with frustration.
There’s several missed calls, messages, and emails that have come through in the space of ten minutes. I don’t know what to look at first, but go for Logan’s messages since he only messages me a million times if it’s important.
Logan: I’m sorry. Talk to me first before you read anything.
What is this fucker going on about? I’m about to ignore him since I’m still m
assively pissed he bailed somewhere without telling me a single thing. His actions of late have been out of character and I suspect it has something to do with Louisa turning up at our apartment dressed in this skimpy black dress with no bra on. Even for her, it was wild and nothing like her usual uptight attire.
I log into my social media account to see the thousands upon thousands of tags until I follow a link to a media article posted an hour ago.
Drowning at LA Party
Tayla Chase (sister of Generation Next star Emerson Chase and Royal Kings defender Ashley Chase) almost drowns at a party in LA. The sixteen-year-old had been seen drinking with older sister Emerson, before hanging out on the beach with an unknown crowd.
The drunken teen was found at the scene unconscious and revived by Logan Carrington.
Another unidentified girl had been saved by Wesley Rich.
Earlier, witnesses saw Emerson Chase in a heated kiss with childhood friend Logan Carrington. The two were seen arguing until Wesley Rich found them outside the home of LA’s hottest DJ—Mikey Gee.
According to a reliable source, the love triangle erupted in an explosive fist fight between Logan and Wesley because Emerson Chase is rumored to be pregnant. Neither party has commented on the pregnancy. However, the baby is said to belong to Wesley Chase.
A large lump has formed inside my throat constricting my ability to yell or even breathe. What the fuck did I just read? My eyes scan the article again with my stomach churning and leaving me feeling ill that something happened to my little sister.
“Ashley?” Poppy calls my name, worried. “What’s wrong? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I don’t answer, ringing Dad’s cell which goes straight to voicemail. I try Mom, the same thing. If anyone will pick up her cell it’s Tayla.
“Ash,” she greets with a shaky voice.
“Tayla,” I almost scream down the phone. “What the hell happened?”
“I’m okay.” I can hear the exhaustion in her voice. “I went to help someone who was drowning and got caught myself.”
“Why the fuck were you drinking? Did Emerson let you fucking drink?”
“I wasn’t drinking, Ash. Emerson wouldn’t let me drink.”
