The doorbell rings and I immediately become flustered. Ashton is here. My body flushes with the anticipation of seeing him.
I quickly walk to the door and stop in front of the mirror beside it. My long, thick, dark brown hair is pulled into a ponytail that falls down my back. My blue eyes are clear and bright with my excitement. My maeve lipstick sets off my light complexion well and highlights my full lips. I pull down the tight cream shirt, making sure that my cleavage is on full display and wipe my hands on my jeans.
I know that I seem a bit thirsty, but DAMN I AM. Ashton James has been the star in nearly all of my sexual fantasies since I was 13 years old. Now, at 19, I’m going to be spending an entire week alone with him while he interviews for several companies in the area. My college roommate is helping her family move this week, so he’ll be staying in her room.
Once I check that my appearance is as good as it’s gonna get, I plaster a smile on my face and open the door.
I’m immediately engulfed in his brawny arms and the smell of his cologne.
“Little Sam!” He cries, picking me up and spinning me around.
I throw my arms around him, throwing my head back and laughing at his antics
Facing him again, a genuine smile lights my face. I’m still laughing until I see his face. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that I see desire in his caramel-colored eyes.
I take in his face and his long hair that he’s done in microbraids. He has the sides pulled back on the top of his head while the rest swing free down his back. Ashton’s strong jaw is highlighted by a light stubble that I want to feel against my face or my inner thighs. His mocha colored skin seems to glow in the light and his full mouth smiles at me.
“Not so little anymore.” My voice is breathy from my laughter and the sudden onslaught of desire coursing through me.
His eyes rake down my face and land on my chest pressed just under his chin. My top is straining to hold in my full breasts and I swear his breathing hitches. His eyes shoot up to mine and they seem slightly darker, his stare more intense. “Definitely not so little anymore.”
If it were anyone else, I would have leaned in and kissed him right then. But he’s my brother, Matt’s, best friend. Has been since kindergarten. His parents are even best friends with mine. He’s known me since I was two years old. We’d spent the night at each other’s houses, had snowball fights, watched movies, and went to each other’s parties. Shit, we’d even seen each other naked! Granted, I was three, he was six, and we had drawn all over each other with marker. But it still counts!
But the summer that he and Matt turned 16, they had gone away to Boy Scout Camp for an entire summer. When they came back, Ashton was ripped and HOT! My 13 year old self learned all about masturbation that night.
Since then, our relationship has been a lot about teasing and innuendo, but nothing has ever happened. Our families, especially Matt, would have a shit fit if it did, so I’ve never pursued anything.
But when he called and asked if he could stay with me for a week while he did some job interviews in New York, I readily agreed. Almost pushed my roommate out the door when she told me that she was going to help her family move out into the suburbs.
This was the only chance that I would get with Ashton and I wasn’t going to waste it. I just wish I could get out of my own head about it.
I unconsciously lick my lips and his eyes follow the movement. My face flushes and I stutter out, “A-are we gonna just stand in the doorway all night or are you planning on putting me down and coming in?”
He smirks at me and a mischievous light comes into his eyes. He throws me over his shoulder, fireman carry style, and grabs his suitcase and suit bag in the other hand. I squeal out in indignation, my hands going to his toned and muscled back. My head is just above his ass and I have to resist the urge to bite it.
“Ashton! Put me down!” I squeal. He laughs as he kicks the door closed behind him.
I kick my feet slightly, until I feel his hand squeezes high up on my thigh. I bite my bottom lip to keep back a moan.
“Nice place you’ve got here, Sam.” His hand inches slightly higher up my thigh. He’s just below my ass, his long fingers wrapping around and nearly brushing my core.
I squirm under his hold, not sure if I want his hand higher or lower. He just squeezes tighter, a light chuckle coming from his mouth. I can’t tell if he’s laughing at my predicament or if he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Possibly both.
I growl at him, “I’d be happy to give you the grand tour if you’d put me down!”
“All in good time, Sam. Now where am I sleeping? With you? Here, hold this.” He hands me his suit bag over his shoulder before pulling his suitcase into the short hallway entrance that led to our living room.
It takes me a second to register what he said before I squeak out, “W-what?! No. N-no! You’re going to stay in Kora’s room!”
“Awwww. No sleepovers like we used to have?” His voice is obviously teasing me, but I’m glad that he can’t see how red my face is.
“We haven’t had a sleepover since I was seven. You always said that you were too old to sleep over with a little girl.” I’m talking nonsense, but I can’t help it. I’m so flustered by my current position, his hand on my body, and his suggestive words.
“Like you said, not so little anymore.” His voice is a low rumble in his chest, suggestive and playful at the same time.
I clear my throat and point toward Kora’s door with my foot, realizing that he isn’t going to put me down until he’s damn good and ready.
He laughs and walks down the hall. “Where’s yours?”
“Right across the hall.” I put my elbow in the middle of his back and prop my chin on it. Not much I can do right now.
“Good to know.” Ashton opens the door, putting his suitcase inside and grabbing his bag from me. He flips me down to land on the bed. Would have been a funny trick had I known that he was going to do it. Instead, I grab him by the shoulders, thinking that we’re falling and pull him with me.
We land with me on my back on the bed, my hands gripping his shoulders and pulling him to me. His arms cage me in, propping his upper body slightly above mine. The rest of him is flush against me, his face mere centimeters away. I can smell his minty breath and spicy aftershave.
We stare at each other for a moment, neither of us moving.
He leans down and I think that he’s going to kiss me. Instead, he rubs his cheek against mine before whispering into my ear, “If you wanted to get me in bed, Sam, you should have taken me up on the sleepover.”
I shiver at the feeling of his breath running over my skin before mentally shaking myself. I smack his shoulder and push him off me. “You scared me, asshole. I wasn’t ready to be thrown onto the bed.”
He lets me push him back, putting space between us, but not getting completely off of me. “Noted. Next time, I’ll give you some warning.”
“Fuck off,” I say, pushing myself further up on the bed and out from under him, turning my head away to hide my blush.
By the time I sit up, I have myself under control and turn back to him. He’s kneeling on the bed, looking away from me and finally taking in Kora’s room.
“What the fuck is this?” Ashton turns back to me, his eyes comically wide. “You want me to sleep here? It feels like I’m sitting inside a bottle of Pepto Bismol!”
I may have forgotten to tell him that Kora likes pink. A lot. Her entire room is decorated in a variety of pink shades. His description is actually pretty apt. Even the bed is covered in pink, all the way down to the bedskirt. The entire bed is a fluffy, frothy pink monstrosity.
“Sam, you really can’t expect me to stay here.” He looks desperate and I can’t help but laugh in his face.
“I’ll give you new bedding. You don’t have to sleep in all the pink.” I get up and head to my room to grab extra stuff for him.
He follows me, taking off his coat. I don’t have to look at him to figure out that he’s looking at the walls that I’ve painted with murals and whatever happens to pop into my head at any given time.
My room is less of a bedroom and more of a studio with a bed and closet full of clothes in the corner. There are paints, brushes, and easels everywhere. Different pieces in various stages of completion are scattered around the room, each requiring a different mood, different lighting and surroundings to get their vibe just right. By the window is the nearly complete picture of a young girl running down a country lane, sunflowers blooming along the sides and the sun shining in her hair. In a darker corner of the room is the beginning sketch of a nightmare that I had, my fear of failure come to life. Next to a mini fridge tis a portrait of a young mother and her two small children, obviously homeless and hungry. A fourth and final completed canvas propped up by the closet is of a socialite removing her makeup after a party, the wear and tear of her life showing up in her eyes as she strips off her outer defenses.
Ashton spends several minutes in front of each canvas, taking in my work. I usually don’t let people see my stuff, not even my family, before it’s complete. Sometimes not even then. The only two people that have seen nearly everything that I’ve ever done are Ashton and my mentor professor. It just feels too exposing, too raw, to show everyone exactly how I feel.
“Fuck, Sam. You’ve really come far in your shading and perspective. This one,” he gestures to the socialite’s destruction, “this is amazing!”
“Shut up, Ash. You’re just being nice. I don’t even think I’m going to turn that one in.” I blush, hiding it in the comforter that I’ve pulled from the top shelf of my closet.
Ashton comes over, taking the comforter from my hands before pulling my chin up to look at him. “I’m not blowing smoke. You have real talent. Take the compliment.”
If possible, I blush harder. “Thanks, Ash.”
He strokes my cheek with his thumb before taking the other blankets from my hands. “Yellow! A nice, manly color.”
“It’ll bring out the warmer tones in your skin,” I say without thinking.
He makes a sound somewhere between an “oh” and a surprised grunt, causing my eyes to fly to his as I realize what I just said. “I - I - I just mean that as an artist, that’s something that just naturally comes to mind.”
“Of course, something an artist would naturally think of,” he says with a chuckle. Walking out of the room, he continues talking to me. “So…what are the plans for tonight?”
Mentally facepalming, I call back to him, “I thought I’d leave that up to you. You’ve been traveling all day, so I didn’t know if you would want to go out for dinner and some fun or if you would want to stay home. I could cook and we can watch a movie. Up to you.”
I finally have gathered myself enough to walk out of my room and head towards Kora’s to help him change the bedding.
“When’d you learn to cook?” he asks, tossing me one side of the fitted sheet.
“When I realized how crappy the food was at school and that takeout in New York is expensive as hell,” I laugh.
He nods in acknowledgment of what I’ve said. “How is NYU, by the way?”
“Great! I love my classes this year, now that I’m mostly done with gen eds and my professors are awesome, especially my mentor teacher. I’ve made some good friends and I’ve even found some volunteer opportunities that have helped me with finding subject matter for my art.” We finish with the fitted sheet and I start changing the pillow cases while Ashton puts on the flat sheet and comforter.
“I knew you’d do well here. You weren’t meant for the fields of Ohio. You needed the city, the social causes and variety of a place like this.” Ashton’s voice seems wistful, but when I look at his face, he’s all smiles.
“And you? Finally ready to step out of your comfort zone? How many interviews do you have lined up this week?” I ask, turning the spotlight away from me, a place I’m never comfortable being.
“Four. I’m glad that you let me come on Friday so that I could get the lay of the land and figure out where all I need to go this week. Plus, we get some time to catch up. I haven’t seen you in almost a year! You didn’t even come home for Christmas!” He looks at me with a fake glare, grabbing the pillows from my hands and tossing them onto the bed.
“The parental units wanted to see the Rockettes. There wasn’t really any point, especially since I took that extra course.” I reply defensively.
“Yeah, yeah. Now that you live in the big city, you’ve forgotten about the little people that you’ve left behind.” His lips curve in a smile, but there is something I don’t understand in his eyes. Almost like he’s afraid that I would really leave him.
“Oh, Ash.” I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. “I could never forget about you.”
Ashton chuckles affectionately as he pulls me closer to him, hugging me back.
When we pull away, I reach a hand up and pat his cheek twice. “Who could ever forget such a pain in the ass?” I quickly run out of the room before he can respond.
“You little shit!” he cries.
I squeal and run into the living room, him thundering after me.
Ash decides that he would rather stay in, so I start working on dinner. I’m making his favorite: my mother’s lasagna. “I’m gonna go shower. Public transport just makes you feel all grimy,” he says after opening a bottle of red wine for us. “Don’t drink that until I get out! It’s gotta breathe.” “Yes, sir!” I snap him a salute before turning back to the meat cooking on the stove. “Mmmmm. I could get used to that kind of obedience from you.” As he walks past, he smacks my ass with the towel that’s in his hand. “Asshole!” I call after his laughing form as he hurries into Kora’s room. Over the next 15 minutes, while I hear the water running in the shower, I cook the meat, make the sauce, and layer the lasagna in the dish. I’m just putting it in the oven when I hear Ashton calling my name. “What?” I call back to him as I set the timer on my phone. I hear a muffled sentence. Somet
By the time Ashton wanders into the kitchen after his shower, I’ve set my plan into action. I’ve put on some music, a club playlist on Spotify, and am swaying my hips along to the beat. I’ve changed into a low cut white tank and cutoff jean shorts. I wear both when I’m painting, so they’re covered in paint, well worn, and form fitting. I’m washing dishes and have made sure to splash water all over the front of my tank, making it see-through. You wanna play, Ashton? Game fucking on. I hear him walk into the kitchen and stop. There is a definite inhale of air as he takes in my appearance. I put an extra sensual sway into my hips, singing along with the music. I act as if I don’t know that he’s there. Putting the dishes away, I run my hands over my body, acting as if I’m wiping water on my clothes, making sure to run them over my stomach and down to my hips. As I finish putting away the clean dishes, I continue dancing. My hands move to my hair, pulling the tie out
Conversation during dinner turns to my year at school and the different advertising companies that Ashton is interviewing with. “So are you planning on staying here in New York?” I ask, taking a drink of wine. “If that’s what the job requires, but most of these places have a short internship period here in New York before it’s possible to transfer to other branches. All of the four companies I’m interviewing at have a branch in Ohio so that I could go back home.” His eyes flick to me. “If New York doesn’t work for me.” Genuinely curious, I ask, “What do you mean?” He looks at me for a beat before vaguely saying, “Oh, you know. If I don’t adjust to city life.” I give a short bark of laughter. “Oh, come on Ashton. What’s there not to love about the city? You can basically walk everywhere. The variety of food, and experiences, and people in one square block is more than our entire home town could even hope for. Concerts, galleries, clubs, fashion, restaurants. New York’s g
I pull sweatpants and hoodie on over the clothes that I’m wearing and grab my purse. Without saying anything, Ash and I get our shoes and coats on before heading downstairs and to the bodega down on the corner. When we get there, I’m utterly shocked by how it looks. “Jorge! Were you robbed?” I asked the cashier, one I’ve gotten friendly with since I moved here. “Chile, don’t you know what’s going on? It’s like fucking armageddon shit out here. No fucking toilet paper. No milk. People lost they damn minds!” Jorge is wearing a bandana around his face. His voice is muffled and he looks petrified. “Look, sweets, I’m getting ready to close. There’s barely anything here anyway. Get what you need and then get the fuck home.” I look at Ashton, both of us shocked. We hurriedly run down the aisles, grabbing detergent, food, paper towels. Anything and everything that we can get our hands on. Jorge rings us up and hurries us out, locking the door behind us. We hurry back to th
I quickly close the door in my room. I lean my head against it, breathing heavily. I feel the tears gather in my eyes and I force myself to steady my breathing to calm down. I will NOT cry. Ashton never promised me anything. In fact, up until tonight, he treated me like the annoying little sister that my brother did. We were comfortable around each other. More family than friends. Shit, what had I thought would happen? Yeah, he had touched me and we maybe would have gone a lot further if my brother hadn’t interrupted, but maybe it was better that he had. If Ashton only saw this as comforting me, if this was only going to be a one time thing, I didn’t want it. Yes, he’s hot. Yes, I’ve fantasized about being with him more times than I could count. Yes, I wanted to feel his skin against mine. But…but that isn’t all that I want. I want Ashton James to be mine. And he had just confirmed that he would never be. A traitorous tear courses down my cheek and I angrily s
The second that our lips touch, Ashton comes alive in my arms. One hand grips my ass, the other cupping the back of my head. He kisses me ravenously, like he needs me to breathe. Ashton sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, biting it lightly. I moan loudly, losing myself in the touch and feel of him. He uses my open mouth as an invitation and his tongue slips into my mouth. The kiss is needy. His touch is possessive. It’s like he’s claiming me. Truly making me his. It’s heavenly. Even better than I had ever dreamed it would be. But I can’t let him have all the fun. My hands trail down his chest and abs until I get to the hem of his shirt. I quickly dive my hands underneath and run my hands up his toned stomach. I scratch at his skin lightly and he groans into my mouth. Slowly, I move my hands up to his chest, finding his nipples quickly. I run my thumbs over them, making them hard, before pinching and rolling them between my fingers. This causes Ashton’s breath to
Ashton collapses on top of me, gathering me in his arms and kissing me deeply. Our bodies were still connected and our sweat mingled where our skin meets. My mind is whirling. Did he…did he really say that he loves me? Did he mean it? When he draws away, his eyes are so full of happiness. Ashton pecks my lips once more before pulling out of me. He gets off of the bed, disposing of the condom. I head to the bathroom and come back to the room in a daze. Ashton is laying on the bed again. When he sees me, a shy smile crosses his face. He pats the bed beside him. “Come here.” I bite my bottom lip, worrying it in my anxiety. I lay beside him, stiff and caught up in my own head. “What’s wrong?” Ashton asks, his brows furrowing. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” I leap up so that I’m facing him, my hands going to his face and chest. “No! No! I’ve wanted this since…fuck, since I was 13. I just…” My eyes lower, unsure how to broach the subject. He takes my chi
I wake up to warm arms surrounding me, the tickle of stubble on my shoulder, and the scent of Ash enveloping me. I stretch and smile, a small moan coming from my mouth. “Mmmm, baby. If you move like that I’m not gonna be responsible for what I do.” Ash rubs his morning wood against me, his hands beginning to wander my body. Now I’m moaning for an entirely different reason. “Ash…” my voice is a husky whisper, filled with desire. “What is it, baby?” he asks against my skin, his lips against the spot where the base of my neck meets the top of my spine. One of his hands palms my titty, squeezing it, while the other hooks my leg behind me around his waist, opening me up wide. His hand skims my leg as he moves back to the apex of my thighs, his fingers rubbing my clit until wet sounds come from his ministrations. It doesn’t take long. His fingers press into my entrance and my eyes roll back in my head. “Sam…” he breathes out, his voice filled with need for my body and abso