Chapter 14

fourteen

. . .

Sloane

I stare at the message on my phone, the words practically burning into the screen.

Fine. You want to be my dirty little secret? Meet me in my room in twenty. I’ll go now so it doesn’t look like you’re following me.

I lock the screen quickly, shoving the phone back into my clutch before anyone notices. My heart is racing, and my head feels like it’s spinning. He can’t be serious.

“Earth to Sloane,” Jacklyn says, nudging me with her shoulder. “You’ve been weirdly quiet since you stopped dancing with Scott.”

“I’m fine,” I say quickly, reaching for my drink.

“Uh-huh,” she says, unconvinced.

Across the room, the band strikes up a sultry jazz number, the crooner’s voice low and smooth as the crowd sways in time. Brian appears beside us with a tray of drinks, grinning.

“Who needs refills?” he asks, setting the tray down.

“Finally,” Jacklyn says, snatching one of the glasses. “I thought you got lost.”

“I was being a gentleman,” Brian replies. “Plus, you try getting through that crowd with this many drinks and see how fast you are.”

They banter back and forth, and I force myself to smile, pretending I’m part of the conversation. But my mind keeps drifting—to him.

Asher.

I can feel him, even though he’s not in the room anymore. The way he looked at me from across the dance floor, like I was the only person here who mattered. The way his texts still linger in my head, daring me to throw caution out the window.

“You’re too quiet,” Jacklyn says, narrowing her eyes at me. “What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly.

“Liar,” she replies, sipping her drink. “You’ve been distracted all night. Is this about Scott? Because if you’re feeling bad for ditching him, don’t. He’s fine. Probably over there talking about—what does he like again? Marketing trends?”

“Leave Scott alone,” I mutter, but Jacklyn’s not wrong.

Brian clinks his glass against mine, smiling. “Cheer up, Sloane. This is a party.”

“I’m cheerful,” I lie, taking a sip.

Jacklyn and Brian continue chatting, their voices blending into the buzz of the party around us. I should be having fun. This is what I wanted—to blend in, to dispel the rumors, to keep things uncomplicated. But it’s not working.

Because Asher’s in my head, pulling at a string I didn’t even realize was there.

I glance at the staircase across the room.

The smart thing to do would be to stay put. To finish my drink, keep laughing with my friends, and let whatever this thing with Asher is fade into the background where it belongs.

But the pull is too strong.

I drain the rest of my drink and set the glass down on the table.

“Bathroom break,” I say, standing. “I’ll be right back.”

Jacklyn glances at me. “Want me to come with?”

“No, I’m good,” I say, forcing a smile. “I’ll be quick.”

She shrugs, turning back to Brian, and I slip away before I can second-guess myself.

The staircase feels impossibly long as I climb, the noise of the party fading with each step. My pulse is pounding, and my head is spinning, but I tell myself it’s just to talk.

When I reach the top, the hallway is quiet, lit by the warm glow of sconces along the walls. I hesitate for a moment, glancing back down the stairs. Jacklyn and Brian are somewhere below, still laughing, completely unaware of what I’m doing.

I take a deep breath and step forward, my heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor. Asher’s room is at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar. I stop outside, my hand hovering over the handle.

With one last deep breath, I push the door open and step inside.

The door clicks softly behind me as I step inside. The room is dimly lit, the faint glow of a desk lamp casting shadows across the walls. Asher is sitting on the edge of the bed, his jacket tossed over the back of a chair, his bow tie undone and hanging loose around his neck. A bottle of whiskey sits on the nightstand, next to two mismatched glasses.

He glances up as I enter, his dark eyes unreadable.

“You came,” he says, his voice low and rough.

I fold my arms, trying to steady my nerves. “Just to talk.”

He grins ever so faintly. “Right. Well let’s talk.”

He stands, crossing to the nightstand and grabbing the bottle. He unscrews the cap and pours two fingers into each glass, handing one to me. I hesitate before taking it, the amber liquid warm against my palm.

He clinks his glass lightly against mine. “Truth or dare?”

I blink at him. “What?”

“Let’s play,” he says, sitting back down on the bed and gesturing for me to take the chair across from him.

“I didn’t come here to play games, Asher.”

He leans back, his expression dark and challenging. “No, you came here to keep me a secret. Isn’t that the plan?”

His words cut deeper than I expect, and for a moment, I don’t know how to respond.

“I’m not—” I start, but he cuts me off.

“Truth or dare, Sloane,” he says again, his voice softer this time.

“Okay. I’ll play.”

I swallow hard, gripping the glass a little tighter. My heart? My heart is telling me to stop fighting this pull between us, to stop letting fear hold me back. But admitting that feels too big, too raw.

“Truth,” I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

He tilts his head, studying me like he’s trying to figure out where to start. “Why are you so afraid of letting people see what you really want?”

The air in the room feels heavier, like the question itself is pressing down on me. I stare at the whiskey in my glass, the amber liquid swirling under the dim light.

“Because I don’t want to be a liability for you,” I say quietly. “Because I know what happens when people start talking, and I don’t want to make things harder for you.”

“Harder for me?” he echoes, his brow furrowing. “Sloane, you think I care what they say? The only thing that’s hard for me is pretending I don’t want you every time I see you.”

My breath catches, and for a moment, I can’t look at him. But then he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes locked on mine.

“Your turn,” he says, his voice low.

I force myself to meet his gaze. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he says immediately, his lips curving into a faint smile.

I take a shaky breath, my mind racing. “I dare you to…close your eyes.”

He raises an eyebrow but obeys, leaning back slightly and letting his eyes drift shut. The room feels impossibly quiet, the faint whirr of the party below muffled by the walls.

For a moment, I just watch him, the tension in my chest building with every passing second. Then, slowly, I reach out and brush my fingers against his cheek, letting them linger for a heartbeat before pulling back.

His eyes open, dark and intense.

“Your turn,” he says, his voice rougher now.

“Dare,” I whisper.

He doesn’t hesitate. “I dare you to sit next to me.”

I bite my lip, hesitating for only a moment before moving to the bed. The space between us is almost nonexistent now, and I can feel the heat radiating off him as I settle beside him on the bed.

The air feels electric, charged with something neither of us can name but both of us can feel.

“Truth or dare?” I ask, my voice trembling.

“Dare,” he says again, his gaze never leaving mine.

I swallow hard. “I dare you to kiss me.”

He doesn’t move right away, and for a second, I think I’ve made a mistake. But then his hand reaches up, cupping the side of my face as he leans in.

The first brush of his lips is soft, tentative, but it doesn’t stay that way. The kiss deepens, his other hand finding my waist and pulling me closer. My glass slips from my fingers, forgotten, as my hands find his shoulders, his hair, anything to ground me in the overwhelming intensity of the moment.

When we finally pull back, I’m breathless, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst.

He rests his forehead against mine, his voice a whisper. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“Do you just want to be my dirty little secret?”

My throat catches, and I feel unable to speak. In that moment, I know there’s no going back. I’ve got to do the best to put my feelings into words, and just be honest.

“I can’t stop wanting you, Asher. I keep trying. But…”

His eyes are still dark and brooding, but they don’t feel judgmental.

“But…? Just give it to me, Nerd.” He sticks his tongue out at me playfully.

“But I feel like I just got out of a really long relationship. And I’m reluctant to put my heart on the line again.”

“I totally understand that. Fair.” He nods. “So…should we call this off? Just go back to being random people who see each other in the library?”

I shake my head. “I don’t want that. I really don’t.”

“What do you want, then?”

“Asher…” I swallow a knot in my throat, then force my eyes to stay on his. “I just want to have fun. I want to explore…whatever we’re doing in the bedroom.”

Screw it.

“And…with this…”

I slide my hand down his abs, and his black slacks, and land it on his cock. His breath hitches.

“You’re such a tease. You have no idea the things I want to do with you, Sloane.”

“I don’t want to be a tease. Not anymore. I just don’t want to let anyone know. I don’t want this to be gossiped about everywhere. Is that so wrong?”

He takes my hand off of him. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying…we do this on the downlow. No more you picking me up in your truck. We’ll be extra cautious.”

“And if we do get caught?”

“If we get caught, we get caught. But…” I slide toward him, and whisper in his ear. My heart is pounding. “I want you to do all of the dirty things you’ve been imagining. And I have some I’ve been imagining, too.”

“Fuck me, Sloane,” he groans.

“Yeah…” I grin, my heart pounding. “That’s a start.”

He pulls back, with a mischievous grin on his face that I haven’t seen before.

“Fine. I can work with this. But I want something, too.”

“What? Tell me.”

He brushes my hair behind my ears. “I want you…whenever, wherever I want you. Within reason so that we’re not caught by the stupid campus gossipers, of course.”

My insides coil, hot with desire. I play like I’m actually not sure about the idea for a moment.

“And, we should have a safe word. Anytime you want to stop you tell me.”

“Yeah? What should it be?”

He cocks his head a little in thought. “Monterey.”

“Mmm like the song. ‘It happened in Monterey.’”

“Feels fitting. It was playing when you walked in tonight. A song about longing.”

“So ‘Monterey’ is the safe word…and you can…what? Use me any time you want?” I stick out my tongue, imitating him. “Oh, poor me…”

He laughs. “So you’re in.”

I put my hand out for a shake. “Wait.” I pull my hand back.

“I just want to know that you’re not going to be with anyone else during this time. Like even though it’s not a ‘relationship.’”

“Obviously.”

“Okay then.” I put my hand back out. “Mr. Knox, you’ve got yourself a deal. I’m your dirty little secret.”

He laughs and shakes my hand.

“Ms. Carter, you’ve got yourself a deal.” He glances at his phone. “We’ve been up here for ten minutes. How long do we have until everyone gets suspicious, do you think?”

“I told them I was taking a bathroom break…five minutes?”

“Well that’s not long enough to do what I want to do. That’s not even long enough to start getting you warmed up.”

“I could stretch it…”

“Yeah?” He turns his body toward me on the couch, and runs a hand up my bare thigh, under my black dress. “Stretching it is supposed to be my job.”

His hand drags on my inner thigh until he’s touching my clit. “Well you’re soaked already, at least.”

“Are you surprised? I’ve been thinking about last Friday night all week.”

“Fuck that’s hot.”

“I don’t think I need much warming up…if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You want our first time to be a quickie? Because I don’t.”

“Mmm,” I groan as he teases me with his fingers between my legs. A smile plays at my lips. “I thought you said for this agreement you’re going to use me, however and whenever you want…”

“Do you want my cock in you, Nerd?”

"I need it, Mr. Knox. Please," I whisper, my voice trembling with need.

His eyes narrow, dark and commanding, as he takes a deliberate step closer. He drags a finger on my chin. “Are you on the pill?"

“I have an IUD,” I breathe, my hands gripping the edge of his shirt, desperate to pull him closer.

He bites his lower lip, his gaze dropping to my mouth. "Beg me," he whispers, his voice a rough, tantalizing challenge. "Tell me how much you want me."

My cheeks flush, and I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words. "I want you," I murmur, barely audible. “So much.”

He doesn't move, his expression unreadable. "Louder."

"I need you," I try again, my voice stronger now, a note of urgency laced with my plea. "Please, Asher, I need you so badly. I can't—" My words falter as his thumb brushes my lip. “I just want to be your dirty little secret.”

"Good girl," he murmurs, his expression dark and triumphant. "Now let's see just how much you can take. Take off your dress.”

I stand up and slip it off. He does the same, unbuttoning his shirt, and I start on his belt, pants, shoes and socks.

“What?” I ask, when he pauses for a moment, eyes roaming all over me.

“I’m taking a mental snap shot of how goddamn sexy you look.”

“I thought this was a quickie,” I remind him.

Grinning, he wraps me up in a hug and a kiss.

He repositions my body on his bed so I’m propped up, on my back with my elbows supporting my body on either side. then positions himself between my legs. I watch him as he kneels, fisting his already rock-hard, thick cock, his eyes eating me up.

“It kills me that this has to be a quickie,” I mutter.

“Doesn’t seem like you need much warming up, though.”

“Neither do you you,” I joke, smiling.

Leaning forward, I wrap my hand around the base of his cock, licking my lips, dizzy at the sight of him.

He guffaws, letting out a throaty moan at the same time and it’s so hot. “I’ve been hard since you walked in the door, Sloane. You sure you’re ready?”

“Stop teasing me.” I give him one more pump, and let go, leaning onto my back. “I need to feel you inside me…”

He teases me, sliding his tip back and forth on my slit, sending butterflies up my spine. “I want you to watch as I slide inside of you and fill you up.”

“I want that,” I breathe. “But…just one thing…”

He grins. “Don’t worry. It’ll fit. And I’ll take it slow…at first.”

I swallow down a hot ball of nerves as I peer at his hard length as he swipes his head over my clit, impossibly long and thick.

“This is the part where I ruin you, Sloane. My hot little nerd. God, I want you so bad.”

I’m on fire as he finally—carefully—presses his tip into me, starting to split me into pieces.

“Ruin me,” I whisper ever so softly. I wonder if he can even hear.

I get the feeling that there’s going to be a ‘before sex with Asher,’ and an ‘After sex with Asher’ me.

“You’re so fucking tight. How do you feel, baby?”

“It’s so fucking good,” I mutter, as my eyes roll up in the back of my head. I feel him filling me with a few inches of him, getting used to his size as I spread my legs more for him.

“That’s half or so, Sloane.”

“Yes,” I beg. “Give it to me. I can handle it.”

His grin turns wicked. “You never were one to back down from a challenge, were you?”

“You ready for me to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before, baby?”

“Mmmm hmm. Oh God, Asher. Give me more. I want it all.”

He grabs hold of my wrists, pins them above me, and slides in further. It’s the best pain-pleasure I’ve ever felt in my life as he stretches me further.

The thrusts are slow as he starts, and I can feel his eyes on me as he pushes in and out. His arms fall in fists on either side of my body.

Nibbling on my ear, he whispers, “I’m going to rest my thumb around your neck like you’re my dirty little plaything. Do you want that?”

“Mmm hmm,” I mewl breathlessly. “Take me how you want. I want to make it good for you.”

“You’re already so good for me, baby,” he says in a low growl as he thrusts. My hands slide up his thighs to his hips

“Look me in the eyes while I fuck you, Sloane.”

His voice is deep, and growly as he buries himself inside me, pausing. “Yeah, that’s it. I want to see your eyes hood over as I fill you up.”

“You feel so good, Asher,” I moan. “I’ve never felt someone bare before.”

His eyes widen when I say that. Watching the tapered V of his body, angling into that gorgeous thing as I take him is the hottest sight of my life.

“Never?”

“Never.”

His Adam's apple bobs again, and his expression turns predatory, his thumb brushing over my pulse. "Careful, huh?" His voice drops an octave. "You're going to make me want to ruin you in the best way."

My breath hitches, but I don't dare look away. "I trust you," I whisper, barely audible.

"Good." His grip tightens just enough to make me shiver, the perfect blend of firm and teasing. "Because I'd never hurt you...but I might make you beg."

I swallow hard, heat pooling low in my stomach. "Is that a promise?"

He leans in, lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Oh, sweetheart. It's a guarantee."

I’m close, the pleasure coming in waves and as he bucks into me harder. my first orgasm crashes through me like thunder, the pleasure taking my whole body over.

“Good girl, baby. Mmmm I could feel that one. I love how you just gushed all over my cock. That’s so hot, Sloane. God, you’re gorgeous when you cum.”

“You felt that?” I mutter.

He nods, and his dark grin deepens. His hands move with deliberate control, one gripping my waist while the other skims down my tits.

"Turn around," he commands softly, his voice a low, velvet growl. He slips out of me, and I let out a moan in the wake of how empty I feel without him suddenly. “On your stomach.”

My pulse races as I obey, my movements slow, teasing, knowing he's watching every inch of me.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his hand sliding over my hip and positioning himself at the edge of the bed, standing. He presses gently on my back, urging me forward until I'm braced against the mattress.

A shiver races up my spine when he leans over me, his breath hot against my neck. "You trust me, don't you?"

"Yes," I whisper, my voice trembling with anticipation.

"Then let go for me." His hands grip my hips, pulling me back against him, the pressure perfect, possessive. "You're mine now, and I'm going to take you the way I've been dying to."

I gasp as he presses inside me again, his rhythm deliberate and demanding, leaving no doubt who's in control. My fingers grip the sheets as he sets the pace, his grip on me firm, guiding as he pumps into me.

"Do you like that, Sloane?” he growls, his voice rough, each word punctuated by his movement. “Do you like feeling me bare?”

"Yes," I cry out, the sound muffled against the sheets.

"Say it again," he commands, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes! Please, Asher, don't stop?—"

"That's right," he murmurs, his lips brushing my shoulder, his hands tightening their hold on me. "You're so good for me. If it were my choice, I’d do this all night, but we need to make this quick.”

I turn my head slightly, catching a glimpse of his face, darkened with desire, his jaw tight as he focuses completely on me. "Quick?" I manage to gasp, my voice breathy with exertion.

He leans in closer, his body pressing against mine, his breath warm against my ear. "Don't worry," he murmurs, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. "Quick doesn't mean I won't make you scream for me."

A strangled moan escapes my lips as he adjusts his angle, his movements precise and devastatingly effective. My hands claw at the sheets, the tension building inside me with every moment.

"That's it," he growls, his voice low and guttural. "Let go for me. I want to feel you completely."

My breath catches, and I nod frantically, the pressure inside me winding tighter and tighter. "Asher?—"

"Say my name again," he orders, his voice a sinful demand.

"Asher!" I cry out, my voice trembling as the sensations overwhelm me, pulling me under.

His hand slides up to press against the small of my back, holding me in place as his rhythm quickens.

"Good girl," he breathes, his words a dark, husky reward. “Now I need you to come on my cock. Again.”

The room blurs around me, my entire world narrowing to the sound of his voice and the way he moves against me. Time seems to shatter, and the only thing that exists is him, and me, and the heat between us.

A hand hooks into my mouth as he pounds me furiously. I close my eyes and feel his hand drag down the length of my back, and let out a loud moan as I come this time.

Asher matches my rhythm, and pulling his torso close to me, he guides my jaw to turn into his for an all-enveloping, soul-shattering kiss as I feel him pump his release into me, coming undone himself.

When it’s over, he eventually peels himself off of me, and we lay for a moment on our backs, staring up at the ceiling.

“Holy fuck,” I murmur. “What was that?”

"Yeah. That was something else." His voice is low, almost reluctant, as he leans back against the headboard, his breathing still uneven.

I heave a deep sigh, the reality of the situation creeping in around the edges. How exactly am I supposed to go back to the party after…this? My brilliant ‘dirty little secret’ plan might not be so brilliant after all.

“So…yeah.” Asher finally sits up, his tone casual, almost too casual. “That was a lot of fun.”

Fun. That word hangs in the air between us, sharp and unkind. I force a nod, the sting of his indifference settling somewhere in my chest. "Yeah, it was," I manage, my voice steady despite the sudden tightness in my throat.

He stands up, and I steal another glimpse at his impeccable naked body before he reaches for a towel from his closet, then tenderly wipes the sweat—and anything else—off of me.

Taking the hint, I gather my clothes in silence, each movement feeling heavier than it should. His eyes linger on me, but he doesn’t say anything else. By the time I’m dressed and making my way downstairs, my mind is already racing, replaying the moments that led up to this encounter.

The party is still in full swing, a blur of music, laughter, and clinking glasses. Scott spots me from across the room, a grin spreading across his face as he approaches with a drink in each hand.

"Hey," he says, holding out a glass. "Got you a gin and tonic."

"Thank you." I take it with a small smile, sipping it immediately. The cool bitterness is a welcome distraction.

But my mind is still a million miles away.

We spend the next couple of hours mingling, laughing, and dancing—well, mostly me swaying awkwardly while Scott shows off his moves. For a while, it’s easy to forget the heat of Asher’s touch, the way his voice dipped when he called me his .

But eventually, the night starts to wind down.

"I'm going to head out," Scott says, tilting his empty glass toward me. "That okay?"

"Yeah," I reply, offering a reassuring smile. "I'll stick around with Jacklyn and Brian."

Scott gives me a quick hug before disappearing into the crowd. I linger a little longer, nursing another drink and making polite conversation, but my mind isn’t here anymore.

When I finally say goodbye to Jacklyn and Brian, I don’t even have to fake a yawn. "I think I’m going to head back. You guys stay and enjoy yourselves."

"Sure thing," Jacklyn says, clearly tipsy but still smiling.

Once I’m alone, I bide my time, waiting until the hall clears. The party’s volume fades into the background as I climb the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest. When I reach Asher’s door, I hesitate for a moment before knocking softly.

There’s a muffled grumble, and then the door swings open. Asher stands there in just his boxers, his hair disheveled and his expression groggy.

"Who—" His voice is rough, but his eyes soften the moment he sees me. "Hi."

"Hi," I reply, the word catching slightly in my throat.

"Everything okay?" His brow furrows as he studies me.

"Yeah," I say quickly, though my voice betrays a hint of vulnerability. "I just…I’d rather not be alone tonight."

His brooding expression shifts into a small, lopsided grin, the kind that makes my pulse quicken despite everything else swirling in my mind. He steps back, opening the door wider.

“Come in,” he says, his voice softer now, a hint of warmth breaking through the cool exterior.

Relief washes over me as I step inside, my shoulders relaxing for the first time in hours. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t press for details as I undress, his gaze steady but careful, as if he knows I’m holding myself together by a thread.

Instead, he simply pulls back the covers and leaves an opening for me to slide in beside him. The simplicity of it, the quiet acceptance, brings a stinging heat to the back of my eyes.

I climb in, settling against the warmth of his body, my bra and panties the last barrier between us. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me close, his hand resting just above the curve of my hip.

“No,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“No?” I turn my head slightly to look at him, confused.

“If I’m sleeping naked, you are too,” he says, his voice low, teasing, but there’s an edge of seriousness to it that sends a thrill down my spine.

“Oh. I can do that,” I say, a smile tugging at my lips as I shimmy out of my panties. His hands are gentle, almost reverent, as he helps me unclasp my bra, sliding the straps from my shoulders. For the first time all night, the knot in my chest loosens, replaced by a strange kind of ease I didn’t realize I needed.

“So,” he starts, his grin widening as I press my backside into him, feeling the heat of his bare skin against mine. His arm tightens around me, pulling me closer until I can feel the slow rise and fall of his chest against my back. “Couldn’t stay away from me, huh?”

“Don’t press your luck,” I joke, though my voice is softer than I intend. “You’re still my little secret. I’ll just have to slip out of here early enough that no one sees me.”

His lips brush my shoulder, the lightest touch, but it sends a ripple of heat down my spine. His grin is almost audible in the darkness, teasing yet possessive. “I’ll be your secret for as long as you need, my hot little nerd. Just remember…” His voice drops lower, the playful edge dissolving into something darker, hungrier. “I don’t share.”

A shiver runs through me, and I bite my lip to keep from gasping. The knot in my chest loosens further, replaced by a tension of a different kind. I’ve never been this turned on before—this aware of every inch of my body, of his body against mine. My skin feels electric, every nerve ending attuned to him.

My mind flickers to the clause in our agreement. Whenever he wants. I’d written it off as a reckless promise in the moment, something I’d agreed to without fully thinking it through. But now, as his fingers brush my hip, anchoring me to him, I find myself hoping. Hoping he’ll want me again. Hoping he’ll take me again. The thought sends another wave of heat through me, pooling low in my belly.

I press back into him just a little, testing the line between suggestion and hesitation, feeling the way his breath catches, then steadies. My heart races, caught between anticipation and surrender.