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“Do you think Madi is trying to set us up again?” I say to Asher sarcastically, in an effort to break the uncomfortable ice.
He takes my hand and pulls me toward some game stands. “Come on, they have hoops over there. Let's see if you got any better since high school.”
We spend some time playing together and having fun. After Chicago, I’m expecting a little awkwardness, but we fall back into our familiar comradery like all those years apart never happened.
“It’s him. It's Stoll. Told you, man,” I hear someone say behind us.
Asher keeps walking ahead, but I turn as two big guys hurry in front of us to block our path. I can feel Asher tense up.
“Stoll, can I get a picture, man?” one of them asks, and Asher poses quickly with him, and then with the other one.
Before he can make a getaway, the photo op causes more fans to approach him, and soon enough, a line starts queuing for his autograph and pictures with him.
Ash gives me an apologetic look as more people flock to him. It's the first time I’ve seen him in his element as a celebrity.
When the crowd of fans slows, we decide to move to a little quieter spot away from the main games.
We’re holding hands as we walk, and I’m more focused on putting one foot in front of the other than our surroundings. It takes me a while to notice that we are heading toward Mrs. Kendall’s.
I look up at him questioningly, but he just nods at the Treehouse.
“Are we going to play house?” I laugh. “It's a bit late for that. And besides, that old thing is even more of a death trap than it was years ago.”
“Come on, Samantha,” he teases. “I promise we won’t rock the treehouse.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s ‘rock the boat,’ dummy.”
He lets go of my hand and walks ahead of me into the dark shadow of the surrounding woods, the moonlight not providing much illumination for us tonight. He knows I'll have to rush after him so I don’t get left behind in the dark.
I watch his large figure move farther away from me, and call out to him. I sprint after him and hop up on his back, wrapping my legs around him. He hoists me up higher by my ass, and I settle my body against his.
“If you rattle the branches and leaves instead, I'll take you up on that offer,” I tell him, my voice low and hungry.
When we ascend the ladder into the Treehouse, and Asher cranks the lamp, I gasp. Repairs were made to the rackety old thing. Blankets and poof cushions are even scattered around the floor.
Asher holds his hand out to me and I go to him without hesitation. The air is filled with anticipation as we stand in the dimly lit treehouse, our eyes locked.
“Asher, I'm sorry about running away at the hotel. I panicked.” I sit on one of the cushions, and he follows me down onto it.
He kisses my cheeks. “Dragonfly, I'll be patient. I’ll always wait for you. You can take your time deciding what you want us to be.”
My heart feels full hearing him say these words. I lean in and our lips meet in a tender, drawn-out kiss as we pour our longing and unresolved emotions into it.
“I miss you,” he says. “I want to rip these clothes off you, and lick every part of you, especially that sweet cunt of yours.”
His words set fire to my body. I’m not used to dirty talk, but with Asher, it turns me on. His large hands slip underneath the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it up and over my head. His hands cup my breasts and thumb my nipples through the lacey material of my bra.
“Take your bra off for me, Dragonfly,” he says huskily. “I want to see your beautiful breasts.”
I reach behind me and unhook my bra, letting my breasts hang free. They feel heavy under the weight of his stare. I love the way he looks at me, hungry and like he can never get enough.
He pulls me to the floor, now lined with a plush rug, and I sit astride his outstretched legs. He cups my ass, supporting me higher on his lap so he can take my nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking each one in turn.
“I love your breasts,” he says, licking my nipples to stiff peaks.
I laugh. “I do remember you were especially infatuated with them back in high school.”
“Lie back for me,” he orders, and I obey.
