One True Thing (29 page)

Christ, it was glorious.

He started thrusting then, pounding into me in

earnest, his hips snapping forward, that thick cock

dragging over my prostate just right. I grabbed onto

whatever part of him I could reach, urging him on.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

He kept his gaze on my face, watching me, his

eyes returning to mine again and again. It was so

intimate, too much, unbearable, and yet I couldn’t

look away. His eyes told me so many things—how

good I made him feel, how badly he wanted me,

how much he loved me. Yes, I could see that too,

whether he’d said it or not. There was a tenderness

in his expression, a softness, completely at odds

with how hard he was working my body—

because,
God
, those thrusts were ferocious, harsh,

and deep, so deep. And then he did this thing,

wriggled his hips, circled his cock inside me,

stretched me a little from side to side, and
holy

hell
, I almost came right then and there.

“Oh, God.
Ash
. Do that—d-do that again.”

My entire body quaked when he obeyed, and I let

out a cry that probably woke the whole house.

“Again,” I demanded. “Againagainagain. Oh, fuck.

Yes
.” The last word ended on a hiss, and then I

couldn’t talk anymore, because he was doing it,

that wriggly-shimmy-tight-little-circle thing, and

the only sounds I could make were incoherent

babbles even I couldn’t understand.

“Shhh,” he whispered, but I was too far gone

to worry about being quiet. Eventually, he released

my legs and went down on his elbows so he could

cover my mouth with one of his hands.

I didn’t even think about what I was doing.

He slammed into me, so roughly the headboard

banged into the wall behind the bed, and I

instinctively bit down to stifle my scream. Asher

groaned above me, his hips still moving, and it

wasn’t until that moment, right when I heard that

ragged sound, that I realized what I’d done.

I jerked away, my eyes wide. “Oh, God. I

didn’t mean to. I’m so sor—”

Asher cut me off with a kiss, his tongue

plunging into my mouth, swirling around mine. He

broke the kiss and dragged his lips across my

cheek to my ear, nipping sharply at the lobe.

“Again,” he said harshly. “Do it. Anywhere. As

hard as you want.”

He kissed me one more time, quick and

fierce, his tongue tracing the studs on either side of

my lower lip, and then he buried his face in the

pillow next to mine, panting into the fabric as he

continued to move. I arched into him as we

regained our rhythm, tilting my hips to accept those

brutal thrusts, my nails raking down the smooth

skin of his back.

I didn’t need to stroke myself. Having

someone

inside

me

normally

made

me

hypersensitive to touch. The first time Asher had

tried to take me in hand during sex, I’d stopped

him before he could. Since then he’d left it to me,

and right at that moment, just the feel of him—on

me,
in
me—was more than enough.

My orgasm rose fast, starting in my balls,

pulling them up tight. The pressure built and built

until it finally burst, and I came, shooting slick and

warm between us. Stars exploded behind my

closed eyelids. My inner muscles clamped around

him, squeezing, flexing, and I sank my teeth into his

shoulder, moaning into that hot flesh.

I think it was the bite that pushed him over,

that sharp stab of pain, because suddenly the

furious tempo of his hips became nothing more

than a series of jerky thrusts, little jolting

movements, and I felt him swell and tighten inside

me. He trembled above me, turning his head to

capture my mouth again, kissing me as if his very

life depended on the feel of his lips on mine.

I swallowed his cries, wrapped my arms and

legs around him, held him as close as I could, until

finally he went limp on top of me, boneless, and he

tore his mouth away to breathe roughly in my ear.

“God… damn,” he panted.

All I could do was nod. Yeah, that about

summed it up.

Goddamn.

Asher

IT TOOK me a few minutes to realize I was

dancing. Yeah. Dancing. I’d been picking things up

around the apartment, doing some laundry, when

I’d started to swing my hips to whatever song was

on the radio, folding my clothes and smiling over

nothing. It felt good. I hadn’t been so happy in

years. Maybe ever. Dusty called on his break, like

he always did. It felt like a million years since I’d

let him out of my bed that morning… barely.

“Hey, you.” It was impossible to keep the

grin out of my voice. I knew it was cheesy, but I

didn’t care.

“Hey. Whatcha doin’?”

“Just laundry.”

Dusty cleared his throat. “Did you wash those

navy boy shorts? The really soft ones… you

know?”

“You really like those, don’t you?” I thought

of the first time I’d worn them around Dusty. He’d

spent a long,
long
time running his fingers over

them and everything underneath, driving me

completely insane.

“You know I do. Are you gonna wear them

when we go out with Michelle this weekend?”

“At the club? What are you gonna do about it

there?” He gulped, and my hand instinctively went

to my waistband.
No. We are not having phone

sex on his break. It’s so wrong.

But Dusty seemed to be more than happy to

participate. He lowered his voice and whispered

into the phone. “I’d dance with you, and kiss you,

and pretend in front of all those people that I didn’t

want to pull your jeans off and suck you right

there.”

“Yeah? And what if I wanted to suck you

right—”

“Oh, motherfucking gag!” Archer’s sarcastic

voice rang from the front hall. “If you’re gonna do

that shit, can you puh-lease take it back to your

room?”

Dammit.
“Hon, I gotta go. I’ll see you

tonight?”

“Yeah, come over at eight. We’ll start the

movie after Alice goes to bed.”

“Kay. Bye!”
I love you.
It felt wrong not to

say it. I wanted to tell him so bad. I’d just

chickened out ever since the party. Things had

been so freaking perfect. I didn’t want to ruin it by

saying something Dusty wasn’t ready to hear. Plus,

I was already about to sink into the floor. If he’d

walked in two minutes before, no problem. So

damn embarrassing.

“Bye.” Dusty’s voice was wistful. “See you

soon.”

He hung up, and I turned to face the music.

“ He y,
hon
,” Archer mimicked. “How are

things going with Dusty?”

I sighed. “You don’t really want to know.

Why are you asking?”

“What?” Archer shrugged. “I can’t ask about

my brother’s relationship with the guy he stole

from me?”

“What the hell? If I remember correctly, you

ditched him at a goddamned leather club in the

warehouse district so you could get your dick

sucked.”

“Keep your panties on. I was just giving you

shit.” Archer rolled his eyes.

“What are you doing here anyway? I know

your shift isn’t over yet.”

“Oh, so you don’t have honey-love here

tonight to giggle with so you’re back on my jock?

Have you
gotten
a call from the store lately?”

“No, you have been leaving on time every

day. I noticed.”

“So leave me the hell alone. Or better yet, I’ll

leave. I’m meeting Jericho down at Waterspout

anyway. Peace.”

Archer took off without another word. I had

no idea what I was going to do about him. It was

getting to the point where nothing was the best

answer.

I wanted to spend Thanksgiving with Dusty. I

wanted to spend every day with him, but our first

holiday? It seemed important. So I called my mom

to break the news that I wasn’t traveling north that

year. She took it well. A little too well, probably.

“Oh, baby,” she said when I gave her the

news that I wouldn’t be driving north with Archer.

I chuckled uncomfortably. “What, Ma?” I

really couldn’t handle a big guilt trip.

“You’re in love. I can hear it in your voice.”

Not what I expected.

“Yeah. I am.” There was no point in denying

it to her, anyway. She had some strange sixth sense

for my emotions. Always had. And I was in love.

Ridiculously so.

“No wonder I’ve barely heard from you in

weeks. What’s his name?”

“Dusty. You’d really like him, Mom. He’s a

good guy.” I knew I was smiling. It was

impossible not to smile when I was talking about

him.

“And when are you bringing this young man to

meet your parents?”

I chuckled. “I’ll see if he can get some time

off of work after Thanksgiving.”

AT THANKSGIVING dinner, I pulled Rue aside.

“What’s up?” he asked. Rue and I rarely had

private time with just him and me (okay, so we

never did). I knew he had to be curious. I was kind

of panicking.

“My mom wants to meet Dusty.”

“And?” Rue looked at me, waiting for the

next part.

“Isn’t he going to freak out? Like his parents

weren’t so great, were they?”

“Are your parents going to be awful to him?”

Rue asked. He leaned over to pull a container of

whipped cream out of the fridge.

“Of course not. My mom’s gonna think he’s

adorable. I just had to tell her why I wasn’t going

to be at home tonight, and, well, she heard the

word boyfriend and practically squealed. I just

wanted to make sure he’d be cool with it before I

asked, you know?”

“Hmm.” Rue glanced sideways at me.

“Where do your parents live again?”

“Up north. Sonoma.”

“Hold off on the asking then.” Rue smiled

slyly. “Maybe we can… surprise him a little.”

I cringed. “A surprise meet-the-parents

doesn’t sound like something I’d be very happy

about if I were him.”

“What if you pair it with a romantic night in a

vineyard B&B?”

“Come again?”

“A while ago, these two sisters were in town

for a wedding, and they’d booked appointments at

the salon. One of them had booked with Shelley.

You know, the girl who took off for New York

without notice? I felt bad, so I did both of their

hair and only charged them for one appointment.

Anyway, the sisters own this gorgeous old place

near Napa called Rosewood. They said to call

anytime I wanted to take Erik up for a romantic

weekend. If I’m remembering right, that’s not too

far from Sonoma, is it?”

“Well, no, but I’m not you.”

He elbowed me. “I’ll tell them you’re using

my pass. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

Two hours later, I was holding Dusty in his

bed, listening to him breathe, and planning our

romantic weekend to northern California. Weekend

at a B&B, meeting of the parents….
Tell him you

love him.

I wasn’t going to be able to wait much longer.

“ I CAN’T believe this place.” Dusty’s eyes were

wide, taking in the lovely old Victorian, the mini

vineyard, walking trails, the rose garden. “How on

earth did you get a room here?”

I shrugged. He was so sweet, with how much

every little gesture bowled him over. I leaned over

and kissed his nose. “I had some help,” I admitted.

“Help?”

“Yeah. Um, Rue might have pulled some

strings to get us a room. I wanted to make up for

the beach weekend, and he suggested this place.”

Dusty smiled. “It’s gorgeous. Thank you for

kidnapping me.” He wrapped his arms around my

waist and rested his forehead on my collarbone.

“I’m glad you like it.”

I’d shown up at his work hours earlier with

an overnight bag and a big kiss. I told him to get in

the car and not ask any questions. It was all settled.

The Rosewood B&B had happened to have their

nicest suite available, the one with the big jetted

tub and a balcony with sweeping views of the

whole property. I’d expected a normal room, and