Beyond the Horizon (The Sons of Templar MC Book 4) (12 page)

“I have plenty,” I hissed. “What I don’t have is a horse drawn carriage to ferry me wherever I need to go whenever my heart desires. I live in the real world. Where I’ve got to eat and pay rent. Which means I need to work. I don’t appreciate someone yelling at me, because he doesn’t agree with the only choice of transportation available to me,” I informed him sharply.

“Why are you taking the bus in the first place? You have a car,” Asher’s voice was still hard, and he ignored my small monolog.

“Bex is borrowing my car, which I couldn’t even drive if I had it, considering I don’t want a DUI,” I informed him smartly. Bex was going to pick me up, but she was working later than I was, hence the bus. I wasn’t going to tell Asher that. I didn’t owe him an explanation.

“You’re fuckin’ drunk?” Asher exclaimed in disbelief.

Shit. Maybe that wasn’t as smart as I thought. “No. I’ve just had a couple of shots,” I backpedaled.

I heard a long sigh at the other end of the phone. I let out my own sigh as my apartment building came into view. My feet thanked the Lord.

“Please tell me you’ve got protection,” he said finally.

“Protection?” I repeated.

“Yeah, babe, pepper spray, taser, gun?” he listed off these things like grocery items.

“A gun?” I repeated. “Could you honestly visualize me knowing how to work a gun?” I asked him honestly, crossing my parking lot.

“No, which means I’m gonna teach you how,” he bit out.

I blanched at the thought of handling a gun. “No, thank you,” I replied briskly.

“Jesus, Lily. Do you know how crazy it makes me thinking of you in danger? Of someone hurting you?” he asked in exasperation.

I paused riffling through my bag for my key. “No,” I replied honestly. “Asher, I’ve never had anyone care about me. Not like you. Apart from my mom, and she was different. A lot different. She swore a lot less that was for sure,” I joked. I turned my key in the lock. “I’m not used to how intense this is,” I explained, sinking onto our lumpy sofa once I got inside our apartment.

Asher sighed again. “I know. Shit. I’m sorry, Lily. I try and remind myself of that. To take it slow with you. Be gentle….” he paused, his anger seeming to deflate immediately. “Where are you now?” he asked with concern.

“Home safe. Unmugged and unmolested,” I informed him, the walk not sobering me completely, hence my flippant demeanor.

Asher growled. “Don’t joke about that,” he warned. “You’re not bussing home again. You need a ride, it’s on the back of my bike. We clear?”

I nodded. The thought of actually seeing him, not just hearing a voice at the other end of the phone enticing. Of having someone to care if I got home safely.

“You alone at home?” he continued, taking my silence as confirmation.

“Yeah,” I responded quietly, expecting him to talk about the dangers of a woman in an apartment alone.

“Where are you?” he asked, something changing in his voice.

“On the sofa,” I replied, yanking my boots off and laying back.

“What are you wearing?” he questioned, his voice thick.

My stomach dropped. Desire tickled in my stomach. “Did you really just ask that?” I squeaked out.

“Yep,” he replied simply. “It’s what I dream about, Lily. What that beautiful little body is clad in every day,” he said. “You turned on, flower?” he continued.

I swallowed. I’d never done this before. I never talked aloud about sex, not to anyone.

“Yes,” I found myself whispering, my hand running over my breast.

“Me too,” he growled. “My cock’s hard as a rock every time I hear that throaty voice on the other end of the phone,” he rasped.

I let out a little moan as I ran my finger over my breast at his words.

“You touching yourself, Lily?” he asked hoarsely.

“Y-yes,” I stuttered.

“Where?” he demanded.

I couldn’t do it. Even with residual alcohol running through my system, I couldn’t verbalize this.

“Is it your nipple? Your beautiful breasts? Pinch those nipples for me, Lily,” he instructed.

I did as I was told, breathing heavily into the phone.

“Is that good, baby?” he asked in a rough voice.

Arousal superseded my embarrassment. “Yes,” I breathed the word.

“If I were there I’d close my mouth over those delicious peaks,” he declared. “I want you to touch your pussy, Lily. It’ll be wet for me,” he continued in a voice thick with desire.

I didn’t hesitate, my hand moved into the waistband of my jeans, touching my soaking panties.

“You’re wet, aren’t you, flower?” he rasped into the phone. “For me.”

“For you,” I repeated, my breath coming in pants.

“That pretty pussy’s all for me. For me to use my mouth on. Taste you. That’s what I’d do to you, flower. What I’m gonna do. For now, I want you to rub your clit, make yourself come. Let me hear it,” he demanded.

I rubbed like he told me to, the fire in my belly growing into an inferno.

“Are you...?” I choked out.

“Yeah, baby,” he responded. “I’m rubbing my cock thinking of you touching yourself for me,” he grunted.

That’s what did it. The vision of him lying there, doing that to himself, thinking of me. I exploded into a million pieces, crying out Asher’s name as I shuddered through my release. As I was coming down from my beautiful climax, I heard the unmistakable sounds of Asher’s own release. It was one of the most erotic things I’d ever heard.

I lay there for a moment, breathless and silent. Asher the same.

“That was….”

“Amazing,” Asher finished for me. “You’re amazing, Lily,” he murmured, his voice tight.

I stared at the ceiling taking in what had just happened.

Asher didn’t seem to mind my silence. “It’s late, Lily. Get some sleep,” he told me.

I wasn’t ready to lose him yet. I was exhausted, which meant my defenses were down. I didn’t filter my thoughts or my words.

“Will you stay?” I asked quickly. “While I go to sleep?”

“Yeah, flower,” Asher replied in a soft voice. “Sleep,” he commanded.

And with my hand cradling the phone, curled on the sofa, Asher silent at the other end, I did just that.

One Week Later

“Do you know where we are?” I mumbled up at the stars. My gaze moved to the outdoor patio area to my left which had a lot of people milling around, drinking, dancing, laughing. I didn’t know a soul, apart from the person lying beside me.

Bex didn’t move her gaze from the sky. “At a party,” she replied dreamily.

I turned my head, regarding her profile. “But whose party?” I probed, the details lost in my muddled head.

I watched one of her brows furrow. “Jack’s, or Jason’s or Sylvia’s. Fuck if I know,” she replied casually.

Usual Lily, sober Lily, would have most likely freaked out about this, or gone into a mild panic attack, but this was not sober Lily. I had discovered the beauty of alcohol and what it did to my shyness, my emotions. Numbed them, kept the big sadness at bay. It was awesome. A phone ringing jolted me out of my drunken, yet calm reverie. It stopped then started again. It was coming from somewhere nearby. I moved my head.

“That’s your phone, Bex,” I pointed out.

She acted like she hadn’t heard me, then jumped abruptly. “Shit,” she muttered. “Yo,” she called into the phone.

There was a pause.

“Oh fuck, sorry, I completely blanked. I’ll be there in,” she glanced down at her watchless hand, “about twenty minutes?” She finished, the question in her voice most likely due to the fact that she had no idea where we were.

She sat up after she hung up and glanced over at me with a vacant gaze. “We’ve gotta bounce, babe,” she instructed.

I squinted at her. “What? Why?”

I was quite happy in my current position, watching the sky, listening to the sounds of strangers having a good time, pretending that I was someone else.

She yanked on my arm and I reluctantly moved.

“Because,” she said, standing. “I was meant to be at work, like an hour ago. And I need my job ‘cause I need to eat and more importantly, buy booze,” she told me.

I sighed and struggled to my feet, swaying slightly as I got accustomed to being vertical. Another ringing added to the sounds of the night. I looked at Bex. Her boss must really be pissed. She didn’t move and stared at me.

“Lilmeister, that’s yours,” she informed me with a grin.

“Oh, right,” I muttered, rifling through my bag.

Because I was flustered and drunk, I didn’t even look at the number, which I would have screened at this moment, had I been a smidgeon more sober. Alas, I wasn’t, and I didn’t understand the logistical nightmare of chatting to my protective, whatever he was, while navigating a crowded party, severely wasted.

“Lo,” I slurred as Bex dragged me inside, through the party.

“Lily,” a voice greeted softly.

“Asher,” I half squealed in excitement. He hadn’t called as was per usual tonight, and I had missed him. “I thought you’d forgotten about me,” I declared, alcohol taking away my filter. And sense of self-preservation apparently. Letting him know just how attached I was to our phone calls would not have been sober Lily’s preference.

“I could never forget about you, flower,” Asher replied, his voice soft.

“Good,” I yelled over the music that was getting louder as we walked into the dance area of the party.

I giggled slightly and was pushed against various bodies as Bex pushed us through the crowd.

“Where are you?” Asher’s voice turned hard.

“Umm….” I hedged, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings. “That’s a mighty good question,” I giggled again.

I felt a pinch on my behind.

I tugged on Bex’s arm. “Oh my gosh, that guy just squeezed my ass,” I whisper yelled at her, not realizing I was speaking into the phone.

Bex narrowed her eyes and glared into the crowd before yanking us again.

“What the fuck? What did you just say?” Asher yelled into the phone. “Lily, tell me where you are, right now,” he commanded.

I took a deep breath as we emerged out the front door and I squinted at the unfamiliar street in what I deduced was a reasonably nice neighborhood.

“Who the heck do we know to get us ending up here?” I asked Bex in confusion. I said “
we,”
but I meant her. I hardly knew anyone well enough to get invited to any parties, let alone one in this area.

She shrugged her shoulders, with her eyes on her phone. “Fuck knows, Uber’s on its way now, though,” she muttered, rubbing her bare arms even though there was no chill in the air.

“Lily,” a firm voice clipped in my ear.

“Oh right, on the phone,” I muttered to myself.

“You’re drunk,” Asher stated.

“Affirmative on that Captain Jack,” I replied breezily. I hadn’t educated Asher on my new lifestyle, he always called early afternoon, before the drinking could commence. There was a reason for that, me not telling him, I mused. I couldn’t think of it at this moment, it didn’t seem important.

“Please tell me that’s not doucheface,” Bex cut in, nodding at the phone.

“Don’t call him doucheface,” I snapped at her. “It’s not him,” I added, giving her reason to smile. Aiden had been absent from our lives for over a week, much to Bex’s delight.

“Lily,” Asher demanded softly but firmly.

I sighed. My head hurt from the difficulty of having two conversations.

“Tell me where you are. I’m coming to get you,” he declared.

“I don’t know where I am, Asher,” I repeated impatiently. “That’s the point, we’ve got an Uber—” My explanation was cut short when the phone was ripped out of my hands.

“If this is the Asher I’ve heard about, we’re going to Mermaids in Tasman Springs, bring your biker buddies,” Bex ordered into the phone before hanging up.

I gaped at her.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

She shrugged, grinning mischievously. “I want to meet this guy. Properly. One heated conversation on our doorstep three years ago is not sufficient. Plus, I’ve got a terrible memory, it may or may not have something to do with alcohol. I need to see
the Asher
you’ve been running off to have whispered phone calls with for the past week. Over a week, dude. It’s about time you guys talked face to face, and did other things face to face.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Plus, I need to figure out if he’s good enough for my friend. We don’t need another doucheface. It all depends on results of the test,” she explained.

I frowned at her. “Test?” I repeated.

She nodded. “Only time will tell. A lot of it rides on how well his hotness has held up over the years. And how hot his friends are.”

I sighed and decided to relent.

I couldn’t lie and say I didn’t want to see him. In my week long bender, I hadn’t thought of much, I’d made a conscious effort to think of nothing. Apart from the times he’d called, I gave myself the luxury, to let his voice wrap around me, let our conversations take me away from it all. I tried not to think about him in the moments we weren’t speaking, but Asher’s face, his touch, the way he made me feel, that all crept into my dreams.

“Come on, you know you want to,” Bex whined.

I gazed up at her. She was slightly drunk, but she still looked kick ass. Her emergency hair and makeup procedures to get stage ready were rather impressive. Her inky hair was tumbled into messy ringlets around her face, false eyelashes were expertly applied, and her trademark heavy cat eye was sharp and fierce. Since her particular job description required her to take her clothes off for men, she was wearing a skimpy skirt, fishnets with a visible garter belt, and combat boots. Yeah, no stripper heels for this girl. The punters loved it apparently.

“Um. No,” I told her and Adam, the bartender who was smirking at me.

“You’ll be totally great, it’s like a double act,” she persuaded. “I know you’re a good singer, I’ve heard you in the shower,” she winked. “Plus, you’re hot as balls.”

I snorted. “Yeah, right.”

She was my friend of course she’d say that. And she was drunk. And trying to get me up on stage. Of a strip club.

Though I would admit that I didn’t look like myself, hadn’t for the past week. I’d embraced my inner wild child, or more accurately let my wild child best friend have control over my outfits, hair, and makeup. I was wearing the shortest shorts I’d ever been clothed in, with a sheer top tucked in, a lace bralette visible underneath. The sky-high heels I was wearing were the only part of the outfit that was mine. She’d teased my long blonde hair and stuffed it into a messy ponytail. My makeup was intense. Like I could barely recognize the intense smoky-eyed, contoured girl in front of me. That was good, though. Being someone else. It was the only way to escape the big sad. I’d decided to adopt this new persona. Though I was drawing the line at singing to my friend’s stripping routine. I didn’t judge her, not for a moment, but I knew there was no way I was going to be able to do that without vomiting.

“Adam,” Bex’s voice snapped my attention back to the present moment. I took a sip of my vodka, such intense thought needed alcohol to discourage it.

“Do you or do you not think that Lily is the sexiest bitch you’ve ever laid your baby blue’s on?” It was a question, but the way her eyes were narrowed I could tell she would only accept one answer.

I swatted her shoulder. “Bex,” I scolded.

I turned to Adam, who was staring at me with a small grin on his face.

“You don’t have to—”

“I work in a strip club. It means I see a lot of lookers,” he began, leaning against the bar. “It’s the God’s honest truth you are the sexiest gal I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he continued with a wink, his southern twang sharp.

I gaped at him. “Really?”

His smile got bigger. “Really darlin’,” he said firmly. He gave me one more look before going to serve a customer.

Bex whirled my stool around to face her. The motion made me slightly dizzy.

“See?” she snapped. “No matter what crazy thoughts are floating around in that pretty little head, you’re a ten. Adam doesn’t bullshit,” she told me firmly.

I raised my eyebrow at her. “Slathered in this much makeup,
Fiona
off
Shrek
would look like a supermodel,” I stated. “Plus, my you-know-what is almost showing in these shorts,” I added.

Bex rolled her eyes. “You’re twenty-three and not a virgin anymore. Call it what it is. Vagina. Pussy. The word doesn’t bite,” she teased.

I didn’t answer, just sipped my vodka. “I’m not doing it,” I declared when she wouldn’t stop looking at me with that expectant stare.

Her shoulders sagged, but she wasn’t mad. She kissed my cheek. “Yeah, babe, thought that’d be your final answer. This place,” she waved her hands around, “isn’t you.” There wasn’t judgment or sarcasm in her voice, just something sad. It was quickly masked, and she propped up her boobs in a way every male in the immediate vicinity looked our way.

Bex was oblivious. “Gotta go make rent.” She blew me a kiss and winked, then strutted toward backstage.

I frowned at her back, something niggling at the back of my mind at her strange demeanor. Her eyes had been darting around everywhere, and she seemed more hyped than she’d been in the car. The thought was quickly lost. I leaned on my chair, saving myself at the last minute when I realized my chair had no back, because it was a bar stool. That would’ve been embarrassing. I leaned forward, plonking my elbows on the bar, putting my chin in my hands and chewing on my straw with my mouth. While I did that, I also chewed over Bex’s words.