3. Asher

3

ASHER

I ’m rock fucking solid after getting twelve hours of sleep. Usually, I’m good with six to eight hours, but after my last shift, my body had something else in mind. It did in the shower, too. My cock stood flat against my abdomen, wanting nothing more than me using my hand to get off. That’s the last thing I wanted to do, but one freaking thought made every semblance of reality escape me. My only thought while I wrapped my fingers around my hard-as-a-rock cock was about her. The truth is, she’s all I can think about, and that’s a harsh reality when you know she’s taken by another man. Still, I worked myself in the shower last night, thinking about the raven-haired beauty naked and wet. Hair slicked down the length of her back, eyelashes as dark as her hair, milky soft skin, full plush lips, and God knows what else. I’m damning my vision while also being pissed at myself for not at least introducing myself. I’d have gotten a clear and unobstructed view, and maybe I’d have seen if there was a ring attached to her finger, too.

The more I thought about it, the more I told myself not to assume. In doing so when I painted the shower with thick ropes of my cum, it gave me a sense of relief. It also left me with a longing for fucking more. My cock seems to agree, seeing as when I woke up this morning, my hand was yet again fisted around my length. Nothing was going to stop me this time, definitely not my conscience. This time when I came, it was with the thought of her sitting on my face, her fingers digging into my scalp, pulling at the ends as she grinds her sweet pussy down on my lips. I’d lick, suck, and fuck her with everything I’ve got. And if I have it my way, I’ll take her everywhere— her mouth, her cunt, and her ass.

“Jesus.” I rub a hand through my hair, pulling at the too-long ends, and then press my cock down with the other. The damn thing is like a randy teenager on a first date in the backseat of a car and trying to get in the cheerleader’s pants. Still, I’ve got a thirst for the sweet and sinful curves of the woman next door.

If I don’t do something to keep me away from looking out the window while I drink my coffee, I’ll stand here all fucking day. I’ve got too much shit to do as it is. A haircut will be first on the list, then I’ll hit the grocery store. God knows Briar can’t live off the ice cream and snacks I keep stocked here even though she’d beg to differ. Kennedy would kick my ass, too, and she may be my younger sister, but there’s one thing about her: she’s got talons in the form of long arms, long fingers, and has no problem slapping you after you put a fake snake in her bed .

I toss the rest of my coffee down the drain, rinsing the sink out while looking at Estelle’s place one more time. The heavy curtains that once hung in her living room are now gone, giving me a view of the open room. There are boxes and furniture, but what I don’t see is a television anywhere. An oddity with how many men were coming through the house yesterday.

“Shut your fucking brain off, Fontaine,” I grunt out into the quiet house. I’ve got my own television on, but it’s muted. My thoughts are loud enough without the local news blaring in my ears. I move away from the kitchen and walk through into my living room to grab what I need for a morning run. As tired as I am, I know myself well enough that the extra energy burning through my body will have me doing something stupid. Something like walking my ass over to Estelle’s house and do more than introduce myself. Which is saying a lot since I’ve been alone for years now. I’ve seen too many families fall apart, my own included. Fuck, I thought I had what I thought might have been the one, had a ring, was ready to get down on one knee, and then my world exploded. I didn’t see it coming, never would have thought my then best friend and girl would have committed the ultimate betrayal. They did, and after that, I cut them off and cut myself off from any and all women.

Fuck that.

I may have been young, but I wasn’t dumb. I heard the lore all around the fire station. It’s the equivalent to Dear John letters, except you’re in the same town, and instead of them breaking up with you through a letter, it’s done in a different sort of way. One that makes you lose trust in a shit ton of humanity. And for me, it meant closing myself off, and now I have for years. There hasn’t been a single woman who’s had me ready to change my mind. Until her.

Now, my stagnant libido is at an all-time high and I’m having a hard time keeping my hands to myself and off my dick.

I’m making my way through the house, grabbing my headphones and phone on the way to the front door. I’ve already got a pair of athletic shorts on as well as sneakers on my feet. All I need is music and to get out on the road. Maybe it’ll help clear my damn mind. I walk through the house, hitting up the living room to turn the TV off as well as the table lamp. After I’m sure everything is shut down, I pop my headphones in, toss my phone on the table, and let the music sync to my watch.

Once I’ve got some heavy metal blaring through my ears, I walk out the front door. The automatic key and deadbolt have come in handy since I replaced the old one. My family can come and go as they please. Usually to check on the place, drop a meal or two off, or sometimes Kennedy and Briar will hang in the backyard. They’ll use the pool, eat my food, and some days, they’ll even spend the night. Briar considers it a mini-vacation of sorts since their apartment complex doesn’t have a pool. Shit, it barely has a running laundry area. Another thing Kennedy will do at my house or our parents’. I’ve tried to tell her to move in with me until she’s saved enough to buy a house, but she won’t hear a single word of it. Damn woman and her stubborn pride.

The door closes behind me, and I start doing my stretches before heading out for a five-mile run. I’d much rather lift weights, but I’m not stepping foot in the fire station until my next shift. I know how my luck works. They’ll somehow manage to put me on rotation, and today is not the day for it. I’m too fucking antsy, jonesing for a woman I’ve never even met.

My arm is over my head, stretching my side, when a glimpse of movement catches my attention. I look to my left and notice there’s only one car in the driveway versus the three plus a U-Haul truck. It seems my new neighbor is alone. She’s outside, hands on her hips, shaking her head. I’m too busy looking at her and what is clinging to her pretty, pale skin, some kind of top that barely holds her tits in place. The thin straps don’t do much in the way of keeping me from thinking about yanking them down her shoulders and baring her to me, making me wonder what color her nipples would be and how they’d taste. Her bare mid-rift does nothing to deter me from looking my fill. The tight biker-style shorts hug her hips, flaring out before narrowing in. My mouth waters thinking about marching my ass over there and doing more than watching. I want to touch and taste every last inch of her.

She starts the lawn mower, pulling the chord until the engine catches, making everything move in way that has my cock trying to perk up. The smile that spreads across her face and the small fist pump in the air have me staying back. I step off the front porch, attempting to keep my cock in my shorts and my eyes on the pavement. It’s hard as fuck to do so, probably why I’m swinging my head back toward the alluring beauty. She notices me, gives me a slight nod of her head and a smile. I do the same and lift my hand in a wave while watching as she skates a path with her eyes down the length of my body. My tongue slides out, coating my lips, and I see her look my way again. It’s only for a moment, a damn shame, too, because I’d love to see what she’d look like when there’s no one around. Including the car gliding into her driveway. The older couple barely park before the woman is stepping out of the car. I wave to them as well and then hit the ground running. One day soon, I’ll know her name and a hell of a lot more.