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Chapter 28

28

LOGAN

M y boyfriend isn't answering my calls, which wouldn't usually bother me, but now it's been five fucking days, and apart from a couple of half-assed texts, I haven't heard from him. My plan was to accost him at the house, but after just leaving there, Jace informed me he hasn't seen Lincoln since Friday, and Elle and Marcus only just got back from their honeymoon, so they were also zero help. Which leaves me with one last person to check with.

I thought I'd have to bribe the security of the building to get up to see him, but it turns out I'm on his very select list of approved visitors, which is how I find myself banging down Asher Donovan's door.

"Open up, my little psycho, I know you're in there," I yell, not having to keep my voice down considering he owns the whole fucking building and accommodates the entire top two floors. Stupid billionaire asshole .

It isn't long until he swings the door open, looking completely unimpressed with my unannounced arrival. "Lo, what the hell?" He asks, but I am already pushing past him and forcing my way inside.

"Where is he, you big boyfriend steale r?" I snap, glaring around his ridiculous over the top penthouse, which, as always, is in perfect fucking order, with not a thing out of place.

"Oh please, come on in," he drawls sarcastically, closing the door and instantly locking it, before heading over to the sofa and dropping back down into the spot I presume he just vacated. "Lincoln isn't here," he adds, focusing back on his laptop, which of course is also completely immaculate.

"What do you mean he isn't here? Then where the hell is he?" I drop myself into the spot right next to him, and don't miss the way his eyes track how our thighs collide, or how my body messes up some of the cushions on his couch.

"Contrary to what you both believe, I don't actually spend my time stalking either one of you," he exclaims, his eyes still carefully zoning in on the lack of space now between us, but I can barely focus.

"But he isn't at the house and Jace said he hasn't seen him all week. Has he been at the office?"

Asher shrugs. "I've been home most of the week with Cassie, but Eliza said he's been around, mostly locked up in his office, not speaking to anybody, but he was there," he confirms, pushing his laptop aside, jumping to his feet, and moving towards the kitchen.

I'm quick to follow, taking in the expanse of the pristine, high-end appliances that lay on every countertop. "And that doesn't concern you?"

He reaches into the fridge and pulls out my favorite brand of protein drink, handing it over to me with no other explanation. "Lincoln is a big boy, he can look after himself," he explains calmly, turning toward the coffee machine.

"No he can't," I snap, halting him in his movements, forcing his eyes back to mine. "Everyone thinks he is unstoppable, unmovable, but he isn't. He just thinks he isn't good enough for anyone to care about him, but he's wrong, because he is good enough, a nd I care, and I'm really fucking worried about him."

Asher's eyes soften in understanding. "I know you care, Lo, and so does Lincoln, but whatever he is dealing with right now, clearly he doesn't want help," he attempts to explain, but I cut him off.

"Or maybe he does, and just doesn't know how to ask for it," I shout. "He killed his own father, did you know that? After he watched his father kill his mother, he murdered him, when he was just a fucking child. He murdered him, and now he is out there hunting and killing who knows who without a word, and we are just supposed to sit back and be okay with it?"

Asher doesn't say anything, and I can tell from the look in his eye that everything I just blurted out he already knew, because of course he did, because despite their denials and attitudes towards one another, he and Lincoln have a connection, one I have been jealous off since the moment I first saw them together. They are bonded in the darkness forged by their fathers, and know each other better than either of them would care to admit. It's why when he picks his phone up, I know who he is calling.

I'm not surprised or even hurt when Lincoln answers on the third ring with a gruff, "What?"

"Just checking you're alive, Blackwell, your boyfriend has taken to stalking me," Asher explains, his eyes not leaving mine. "Maybe pick up the phone when people are trying to reach you."

"I just did, didn't I?" Lincoln grunts, and I can tell from the tone of his voice that he is distracted. "Look, I'm busy, I'll have to call you back," he snaps, before either of us can respond, and then he gruffly adds, "Both of you." Before he disconnects the call and the phone goes silent.

Hearing his voice didn't calm my nerves even slightly, and I twist open the drink and take a deep gulp just for something to do, as I feel Asher's gaze burning into me. "Do you feel better?" He asks, moving towards me slightly, and I shake my head.

"No, of course I don't. I have abandonment issues that stem from losing my parents, or at least that's what my therapist tells me, and now my boyfriend is avoiding me because he is most likely out on a murder spree that I'm not supposed to tell anyone about, that could easily get him killed, and my other almost-boyfriend doesn't seem to think it's something we should panic about." I run out of breath after rushing all the words out, panic swirling in my gut as I continue to worry about Lincoln, and just as I take a deep breath to go on and add some more, Asher pulls me in and slams his lips against mine.

Any other thoughts or words evaporate, as my body responds to him, my hands reaching up to cup his face, deepening the kiss, as I bring my body flush against his. The kiss itself is soft yet claiming, there is no hesitancy in how he handles me anymore, yet he is still leaving enough room for me to set a steady pace. I'm not sure how long we stay like that, but it's long enough for me to feel his erection come to life and start rolling against my own.

When I pull back I am almost breathless, and I can't help but ask, "What the hell was that for?"

Asher shrugs, looking slightly more unnerved now as he responds, "I had to do something to calm you down and shut you up."

I brush my cock against his once more, leaning in so my hot breath fans across his lips, "I think you did the opposite of calming me down, Ash, don't you?"

My words have him pausing but only for a second, then he uses the grip on my hips to ever so slowly roll his hips against mine, his hard cock rubbing against my own. I hiss through my teeth at the friction, desperate for more, and I'm sure he sees it in my eyes, because his hands reach up and tug on the bottom of my shirt .

"Take this off," he commands softly, not waiting for me to respond, as he pulls at the material, until I reach for it at the back of my neck and pull it off over my head to help him out.

This time when his hands touch me they are tracing my bare skin, burning me, branding me, and making my cock as hard as fucking stone. I expect him to demand that I take my pants off next, or to be shoved to my knees and have him fuck my throat again, but he does neither. Just takes his time looking over every inch of my bare torso, like he is committing the touch to memory.

"Do you know how many times I've watched you, Lo?" He admits almost silently. "How much fucking torture this body has put me through over the years?" He asks, his fingers trailing along every one of my abs, before brushing up over one of my nipples.

"Oh, trust me, I can imagine," I reply, almost panting with need.

"No, I don't think you can," he starts, still watching his fingers as they dance up and down my chest in an aimless pattern. "The first time my father brought women into my room I had nowhere to go," he admits, and confusion and fear floods my system. "My mind was right there in that room with them as one after the other fucked me, until I'd be shown the ropes." Bile rises in my throat at his admission, but before I can respond to his atrocities he is pushing on. "Then I met you, and you were just so happy and free all the time, giving me your smiles like they were meant for me, and I might have pushed you away, but I stole something from you too, because every woman after that was easy. It didn't matter what they did, or said, or asked for, I just gave it to them, because there is one thing that they could never take from me." His eyes finally flick up to meet mine, and I'm sure he sees the horror in them, but I can't hide it, not from h im. "You were my salvation, Logan, and I don't think I can ever repay you for that."

My eyes burn with tears, as everything he just said starts to make sense in my mind, and I wish it didn't. I wish there was a world where I could imagine that he was exaggerating, where Elliot Donovan wasn't the fucking devil who stole everything from him, even when he had nothing left to give, but I know all too well about the blood this town was built on.

So I don't say anything, I can't, I just intertwine his hand in mine and lead him towards his bedroom, not pausing until we reach the bed. Only then do I turn and reach up to start unbuttoning his shirt.

"What are you doing?" He asks, almost as if in pain, and it breaks my heart all over again.

"Asher, I have wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you, and I've waited six years for you to finally admit the same, so now I'm giving you what we are both desperate for," I tell him, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. "You're going to fuck me, and the only thing on your mind while you do it, will be me, and how much you want me," I explain, undoing my jeans and pushing them down my legs with my boxers, before I reach for his. "Don't worry, baby, I'll talk you through it," I add, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, but he smirks, batting my hand away and undoing his own jeans, before he pushes me back onto his bed.

"You think I need pointers on how to please you?" He asks, shoving off the rest of his own clothes, before coming down on top of me, with his hand finding my cock. "Like I didn't watch Lincoln fuck you and memorize every single thing that gets you off. I'm about to remind you that I owned you first."

I hiss as his hand slides up and down my shaft, spreading my pre-cum along my length and getting it slick like a fucking expert. He leans forward, letting his lips drag down to my throat, hot y et soft, slow yet desperate, mixing between kisses and licks until my whole body feels like it might burst into flames.

"Fuck, Logan, do you have any idea how much I need you? How much my cock aches to be inside you?" His voice full of grit, and holy fuck it's delicious. That dark tone of his practically begging to fuck me.

"Then fuck me, Ash," I plead, the words barely escaping my dry throat. "Fuck me, own me, make me yours, and erase everyone else who came before me." I pair my words with the slow stroke of his own cock, reveling in how hot and smooth he feels in my hand, making him groan.

"Fuck, Lo," he moans, biting his lip as he arches against me, chasing the friction of my fist, and I refuse to deny him any longer.

We stay locked like that, jerking one another off until I can't take another second, and it seems he feels the same, because he pulls back, ripping open his bedside table and pulling out a bottle of lube, and I can't help but smirk.

"Well look at my little Boy Scout," I purr, both surprised and excited at how prepared he is.

"Shut up and spread your legs," he demands, and I do, expecting some hesitancy, but then watch in fascination as he flips open the lid and pours the cool liquid until it covers his fingers completely.

Then he is leaning down and pressing them against my back hole, massaging it gently before pushing inside, and I can't help but marvel at him. He wasn't kidding, he really did watch Lincoln's every move, because then he is pumping his fingers with ease for someone who has never done this before, and my eyes practically roll into the back of my head.

"Oh god, yes, that's it," I praise, pushing down on his fingers, already desperate for his cock, when his other hand slams beside my head on the mattress, forcing my gaze to snap to his.

"There is no god here, so if you're going to scream a name, make it mine."

Fuck. Me. Asher. Fucking. Donovan.

Before I can even respond, he pulls out his fingers, rips open a condom, and slides it down his length. Then he is slicking his cock up with more lube, before lining it up with my ass. Only then does he pause. "Can I please fuck you now?" The question has the heart that has beat for him for six years fucking swooning.

I lean up, capturing his lips with my own and pouring as much emotion as I can possibly muster into the kiss before I pull back. "Yes, Ash, you can fuck me now."

His forehead presses against my own, and then ever so slowly he slides his cock inside of me, stealing both our breaths. One inch, then two, stretching me so fully that I have to bite back my moan, as my eyes roam over his face. The look there is one I'll remember forever, it's filled with longing and pleasure, but more than that it's filled with choice. He chose this, he chose me, and it's now, right here in this moment, that I realize how special that is.

"Fuck, Logan," he breathes, gritting his teeth as he bottoms out inside of me. "You're so fucking tight."

Words I've only dreamed of hearing fall from his lips, yet the reality is so much fucking sweeter. His cock is long, and feels thick and full inside of me, and fuck do I need him to move. I need him to move like I need air to breathe, and with only one stroke inside of me I don't think I will ever recover from him.

"Ash. Please." The plea is gritted out through my teeth, as I beg him for what I know is going to be a delicious torture, but I need it more than I have ever needed anything.

"You beg so fucking sweet, Lo," he groans, drawing his hips back slowly, before slamming them back down again, ripping a moan from m y throat. Then he is fucking me, moving his hips in a mixture of slow snaps and rough thrusts, until ungodly sounds are spilling from my lips, and still he gives me more. "You feel fucking perfect, so hot and tight for me, and you take me so fucking well," he praises, sending lightning through my veins with every word. "Fuck, is this what it feels like?" His voice is so strained from the pleasure that it almost distracts me from his question.

"Is this what, what feels like?" I ask, raising my hips to meet him thrust for thrust, relishing in the powerful way he moves above me.

"When you fuck someone you truly want," he replies, cracking my heart in two with a fucking axe in only a few words.

God, what it must have been like. As if the night he suffered right alongside Elle wasn't enough. No, his father just had to take more, to give more, to saddle his own son with so much fucking trauma that I know he will never truly recover, but fuck will I be there by his side while he tries.

I slide my hands around the back of his neck, holding him against my skin, as he rocks his hips into me. "Yes, baby, this is what it feels like," I confirm, erasing every bit of space between us and kissing him like it's my last day on earth.

We move in perfect sync, our bodies rolling together as one, and a shared look of contentment passes through us. Six years. Six years of friendship, six years of denial, six years of longing, and pining, always meant for more, and now here we are. Our bodies are like magnets as he fucks me with his cock and hand, sending me right into oblivion, as the head of his cock rolls against that spot inside of me.

"Ash, I'm gonna come," I pant against his lips, and he groans, moving his hips and fist even faster.

"Come for me, Lo, I want to feel it," he pleads, once again leaning his head against mine. "I want to see you fall apart around my cock," he adds, watching himself sink inside of me with every thrust, and I am done for.

Cum shoots from my cock, spilling across my stomach and his hand, as I pant and moan his name, making him groan at the sight of my release.

"Fuck, Lo, yes that's it," he praises, sliding his hand up and down my slick shaft, milking every last drop from me, until his thrusts start to falter. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he yells, snapping his hips at a lightning speed until his moans are ricocheting off the wall, and I feel like I have died and gone to heaven.

Watching him fall apart above me is something that will be engraved in my brain forever, but it's the comforting way he collapses on top of me, struggling to catch his breath, that really gets me. I take a chance, bringing my hands up to stroke up the span on his back, savoring the way his entire body shivers against mine, as I hold him against me. I'm not sure how long we stay like that, but even forever wouldn't be long enough, and when he pulls back and his eyes meet mine, they are lighter than I have ever seen them.

"Let's do that again," he breathes, kissing me softly, and I can't help but smile at the insatiable little psycho.

"How about we refuel, and shower, then you can fuck me again," I explain, knowing we should eat and clean up a little first.

"How about we refuel, and then I fuck you in the shower," he counters back, and who am I to refuse an offer like that?

We spend the rest of the day wrapped up in one another, eating and catching up, he talks about work, asks about med school, and Lincoln finally texts us both that he is busy but safe, and that he will see us soon. Then I suck Ash off in the shower, before he bends me over and fucks me against the tiles, then the counter, then the bed, drawing four orgasms out of me before we finally fall asleep together in a heap. By the time I head back home the next morning I am feeling lighter than I have in years, and it doesn't matter what Lincoln does, I don't think anything can go wrong between the three of us now. We have officially established the next steps in our relationship, and I for one can't wait for more threesomes.

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