Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Poison

The neon lights of the bar flicker, casting a glimmer across polished wood and sticky floors.

I lean against the worn wooden table, nursing a whiskey, my silver nail polish catching in the lights.

"Another round?" Dex asks, his voice cutting through the low hum of conversations and bad country music.

Sydney chats animatedly beside Gears, her laughter bright against the low murmur of conversations.

Dex taps his fingers rhythmically on the table, lost in his own thoughts.

It's been an off night, nothing but beer that doesn't hit the spot and dull conversations.

Gears grunts in agreement, his eyes scanning the crowd, always on alert. I think he takes this job way more intense than we do, just because Sydney's his ol' lady.

Asher stands across from me, eyes scanning the room.

His presence is magnetic, impossible to ignore.

He catches my eye and smirks, a cocky glint in his hazelnut eyes.

"Be right back," he says, voice low.

He pushes off the wall and strides toward the bathroom.

My gaze follows him, tracing the lines of his athletic frame, the confidence in his steps.

"Didn't think he'd show up tonight," Dex mutters, snapping me back to the present.

"Yeah, well, you know Ash. Always full of surprises," I reply, trying to sound nonchalant. But my mind drifts back to Asher, the way his touch used to make my skin tingle, the fire we could never quite extinguish.

"Hey, Poison, you okay?" Sydney's voice breaks through, bringing me back in the moment.

She looks at me with concern, her dark eyes searching mine.

"Yeah, just thinking," I say, forcing a smile. "It's been a long week."

"Tell me about it," Gears grumbles, taking a swig of his beer. "Could use a night like this more often."

"Absolutely," I agree, but my thoughts are still on Asher—the way he looked at me, the promise in his gaze.

"Poison, I'm not trying to pry, but…" Sydney says, touching my arm lightly. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," I nod. "Just need to clear my head. I'm a little stressed out."

She's swaying slightly, clearly feeling the effects of the few shots we've already downed. "Girl, I feel you there. I don't know about you, but I need another drink."

"Go for it," I say, waving her off.

Gears moves to stand up, but she places a hand on his chest. "No, no, I got this," she insists, starting to rise from her seat. "Relax, I can handle getting a drink by myself."

"All right," he mutters, settling back down but not without a warning look.

"Good luck with that," I tease, smirking at her as she makes her way to the bar.

"So, now that we're alone," Dex leans in, lowering his voice. "I heard some shit's going down back home with The Commander."

"Yeah?" I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piquing.

Nothing good ever comes from that bastard.

"Didn't get much detail. Dad didn't wanna dive into it," Dex continues, frustration evident in his tone.

"Probably wants us focused here, keeping an eye on Sydney," Gears interjects, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Maybe," I nod, tapping my fingers again. "But I still want to know what the hell is going on back there."

"Agreed," Gears says, and Dex nods along. We're all on the same page, that's clear.

Then, a commotion catches my attention. Sydney's voice, loud and angry, cuts through the din. "Get your hands off me!"

I push off the bar, heart racing.

My instincts kick in, driving me toward Sydney.

Some muscle-bound idiot towers over her, his hand gripping her arm.

"Hey!" I shout, closing the distance fast.

No one messes with my friends, and especially not with the president's daughter.

Without thinking, I aim a swift kick right between his legs.

He crumples, gasping in pain.

"How's that feel?" I sneer, and as soon as he drops, I knee him hard in the nose. Blood spurts, and he howls, clutching his face.

"Out!" the bartender yells, pointing at the door. Two bouncers appear, dragging the guy out while he curses under his breath.

"Thanks, Poison," Sydney breathes, looking shaken but grateful.

"Anytime," I wink, straightening up.

Across the room, I catch Asher's eye.

He's leaning against a wall, arms crossed, an amused grin playing on his lips.

That cocky bastard.

"Nice moves," he calls out, making his way over.

"They were okay," I reply, a flirty smile tugging at my lips despite trying to maintain my cool.

Damn him.

"Sorry you had to see that," Sydney says, standing beside Gears now.

"Please, you don't have to apologize for that. It was a good show," Asher says, eyes locked on mine. There's that tension again, electric and undeniable.

"Come with me," he says, grabbing my hand.

Before I can protest, he pulls me to a secluded corner.

"Where are we going?" I ask, though part of me already knows.

"Somewhere quiet," he murmurs, backing me against the wall.

His touch ignites a familiar fire inside me.

"You're impossible," I whisper, but I don't pull away.

Instead, I let him lead me, and soon we're in the bathroom.

He locks the door behind us.

"Damn, that was hot." he says, his voice husky.

In an instant, his lips are on mine, fierce and demanding.

I melt into him, all the pent-up desire and frustration pouring out in that kiss.

His hands roam my body, igniting every nerve ending.

"Fuck, Polly," he groans, lifting me onto the sink.

My legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer.

The cold porcelain contrasts with the heat of his touch, intensifying the sensations coursing through me.

"More," I gasp, needing him like I've never needed anything before.

"God, I missed this," he murmurs against my skin, his lips trailing down my neck.

His hands find the hem of my shirt, tugging it over my head.

I help him, eager to feel his skin against mine.

"Me too," I admit, arching into his touch.

His mouth finds my breast, teasing and tormenting until I'm a writhing mess beneath him.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he says, his voice husky with desire.

He kisses his way down my stomach, his hands working to free me from my jeans.

"Please, Ash," I beg, the need in my voice undeniable.

He looks up at me, a wicked grin on his lips.

"Whatever my lady desires," he says, sliding my jeans and panties down in one swift motion.

His mouth follows, kissing and nipping at my inner thighs until I'm trembling with anticipation.

"Now," I demand, unable to wait any longer.

He chuckles, but there's nothing humorous about the intensity in his eyes.

"Always so impatient," he teases, but he doesn't make me wait.

His tongue flicks out, finding the most sensitive part of me.

I cry out, my hands gripping the edge of the sink for support.

"Fuck, Ash," I moan, the pleasure building with every stroke of his tongue.

He knows exactly how to drive me wild, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

"Let go, Polly," he murmurs against me, his voice sending vibrations straight to my core.

That's all it takes.

I shatter, my body convulsing with the force of my orgasm.

He doesn't stop, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until I'm a boneless heap in his arms.

"God, I love you," I pant, pulling him up for another kiss. The taste of me is still on his lips, a reminder of what we've just shared.

His eyes are soft, loving. "I love you too. I don't think I ever stopped," he admits, his hands making quick work of his own clothes.

I watch, mesmerized by the sight of him.

He's always been beautiful, but tonight, he looks like a god.

"Fuck me, Ash," I plead, my body already aching for more.

"With pleasure," he says, positioning himself between my legs.

In one smooth thrust, he's inside me, filling me completely.

We both groan, the connection between us intense and undeniable.

"Fuck me hard," I urge, needing him to take me higher.

He complies, his hips driving into me with a steady rhythm.

Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through me, building with every movement.

"You're mine, Polly," he says, his voice rough with possession.

"Yes," I agree, clinging to him as if he's my lifeline. "Always yours."

"Fuck," he curses, his pace increasing.

We're lost in each other, everything else fading away.

It's just us, our bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

"I'm so close," I gasp, feeling the familiar coil of pleasure tightening within me.

"Me too," he grunts, his movements becoming erratic.

I reach up, pulling his lips to mine in a desperate kiss.

That's all it takes.

We explode together, our cries mingling as we fall over the edge.