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She closed her eyes. “When I was seventeen, I ran away from home.”
“What? Like, suitcase packed full of crackers and juice ran away from home or legitimately ran away?”
“My boyfriend and I tried to cross state lines with fake IDs to get married.”
Asher’s jaw dropped. “Did you?”
The corner of her mouth drew up into a grimace. “No. I chickened out. I didn’t know what would happen if we got caught. But we were gone for three days. My parents called the police and everything.”
“Wow,” he said, staring over her shoulder as he took in what she was telling him. “I guess we both did some pretty fucked up shit.”
“Itisthe teenage curse.”
He nodded, standing up and lifting her hand into the air, pulling her into his chest. “Enough about being teenagers, I have some very adult activities planned for us upstairs.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” She smirked, lifting her chin so that her lips could brush his.
He let out a soft moan, rolling his head back before pulling her upstairs with passion in his eyes. There were three doors, but Asher didn’t bother showing her around as he led her into the one on the right, shutting it behind them as he flipped on the light. There was a beautiful, king-size wooden bed against the far wall. Its headboard looked completely custom, and Blythe guessed it probably cost more than she would spend on her entire future house’s furniture. It was covered with a white comforter and plush, decorative pillows.
Quieting her thoughts, his lips collided with hers, unbuttoning his dress shirt and loosening his belt. It wasn’t the first time they’d been together, but for some reason everything about this time felt brand new. He pulled her shirt over her head, his hands cupping her head as he bit her bottom lip. His mouth moved to her neck, his tongue warm on her skin and the sound of his breath in her ear. He flipped off the light, laying her down in near-darkness, only a sliver of moonlight creeping through the curtains on the window. She laid in bed, waiting as she heard his shoes coming off, and then his pants.
In an instant, he was back on top of her, his mouth on her chest as his hands toyed with her skirt, trying to find the zipper on the side. When he located it, he pulled the zipper down with such force she half wondered if he’d broken it, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as his fingers made their way to her panties.
He was naked on top of her, and she could feel his excitement for her against her thigh. He pulled the straps of her bra down, freeing up her breasts as he placed his mouth over them, one by one, taking his time as the moans escaped her throat involuntarily.
She moved to take her panties off, but he stopped her, lowering himself so that his mouth was over the fabric. She could feel his hot breath against her skin, her hips rising and falling as he teased her.
She tried again to remove them, but this time he pinned her hands down, keeping his mouth between her legs. When he spoke, his lips danced against her most sensitive area.
“Not yet, baby. You’re all mine tonight.” He kissed the fabric. “I’m all yours.”Kiss. “And this night isallours.”
Chapter Fifteen
“One green tea and one iced coffee please,” Blythe said, holding out the cash as the barista behind the silver street cart began to make the drinks. Blythe took a step back, watching as she worked while lost in thought.
It had been nearly two months since she’d met Asher’s family, and in that time, they’d practically spent every free moment together. Asher had stuck to his word, making sure she knew how committed to her—and only her—he was. She was falling for him, as hard as that was to believe. New York had never been about finding love. And certainly not this quickly. Of course she’d wanted love. She wanted the fairy tale she’d always dreamed of, just like she told Finn, but things were—
“Blythe?” She spun around, looking for the source of the voice in her ear. There he was, as if conjured by the mere thought of him. She hadn’t seen Finn in two months. Hadn’t thought of him in…well, at least a few hours. But there he was. He was filthy, dressed in work boots, muddy clothes, and a hard hat. He slid the hat off, staring at her in disbelief. “W-what, what are you doing here?”
“I’m, um,” she swallowed, taking the drinks from the barista as she held them out, “getting coffee.”
“I can see that,” he said. “Two.”
She stepped out of the line of people, her breathing shallow as she waited for him to say something. Anything. “Mhm.” Her face burned from his presence, her heart racing in her chest.
“So, I guess that means you two made up, huh?”
“What?”
“Two coffees,” he said again, gesturing toward the cups in her hands.
“Oh.” She shook her head to clear her jumbled thoughts. “Um, yeah. Yeah, we made up.”
He swallowed and, try as she might to read his expression, she couldn’t. He was stone. Unreadable. Or perhaps just emotionless. “That’s good,” he said finally.
“Are you…I mean, is everything good…with you?”
He nodded. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just got off work.”
