23. Winter

"Darling, stop fidgeting,"Mom reminded me as I sat on the edge of my seat, listening for the doorbell. It was finally here. The dinner. I was sick with nerves. After working toward this for weeks, it seemed unreal that it was finally happening.

Surprisingly, she had decided to stick around for the dinner. My parents having dinner together in Hade Harbor two times in one season was a rarity. I would enjoy it if I wasn't so nervous.

Dad was on the phone in his office, and Mom and I were waiting for Asher to arrive. The asshole had never messaged me back, so I had no idea if he was actually going to show.

What if he doesn't and this is his final revenge for getting him fired?

It would be a devastating revenge; I could admit that. I'd called him three times before giving up. Now, I was sitting and holding my breath.

Mom sipped her cocktail and read a magazine. The formal dining room was set, we had a local chef in to make the food, and I was all dolled up.

Now, I just needed my hard-won fake boyfriend to come and fulfill his part of the deal.

I stood when I thought I heard the sound of the doorbell.

"Francis will get it," Mom murmured, referring to the old butler who worked at the house mostly just when my parents were in residence.

I didn't like having a lot of staff around when I was alone. It made me feel awkward.

"It's fine, I'll check." I was out of the room before she could stop me.

Francis had just opened the door when I rushed into the entrance hall and saw him.

Asher Martino, in a designer suit, looking like a million bucks. Goddamn, he filled that suit out well. His dark, wavy hair was tamed back for once, and his white collar contrasted sharply with his tanned skin. He looked heart-stoppingly good. He had flowers in his hand, a huge, beautiful bouquet. He stepped into the house and paused when he saw me staring.

"Your guest has arrived, Miss Winter," Francis said.

"Thank you, Francis. I'll take it from here," I murmured, and moved aside so the old butler could shuffle past.

Asher's eyes scanned me from head to toe, taking in every inch of my demure white dress. It was fitted tight to the body on top, see-through lace with a beige-colored lining that kept it modest. Hugging my waist, it flared out in a chiffon skirt that ended just below the knee. My gold heels made me a little taller than usual, not that it made much of a difference compared to Asher.

"Now, you're not playing fair, Ice Queen," he said.

He approached me, the paper wrapping crinkling around the flowers. "How do you expect me to concentrate on impressing your parents, when you look like that?"

"Very funny."

"Who's joking? Take mercy on me now and again." He tugged me close and kissed me softly.

My hands were shaking, I was so anxious. I smoothed my damp palms over my dress. "We should go in now."

"Sure. Try and calm down. You look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm fine," I insisted and turned on my heel, striding up the hallway. I wasn't, though. I really wasn't. My dad liking Asher was suddenly vitally important. I'd forgotten the reason for our game, and I had no idea how to claw back my composure.

Asher followed. When we got to the door of the drawing room where my mom was waiting, I hesitated and jumped again when Asher bumped me with his shoulder.

"Come on, we're in this together," he reminded me. "You're not alone. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

I nodded, took a deep breath, pasted on a smile, and pushed the door open.

"Look who's here," I called to my mom, like I was on a cheesy sitcom. I felt so awkward, I couldn't help it.

I went into the room, while my mother stood and came to fuss over Asher. She complimented the suit and how well it fit him. She loved the flowers. My father came in and shook his hand. There was a lot of small talk and chuckles. I hovered, watching everything critically, waiting for something terrible to happen.

Asher was smooth. I hadn't expected that. He charmed Mom with smiles and Dad with jokes. He held out my chair and pushed it in after me, then respectfully filled Dad's wine glass for him. I'd had no idea such gentlemanly manners were lurking under his hard exterior.

The appetizers were brought in, and Dad talked to Asher about hockey. The conversation flowed easily until the main course.

"So, you two lovebirds, tell me how you met. Everyone needs a great meet-cute." Mom smiled at us.

"How we met?" I repeated dumbly. Why the hell hadn't we thought to prepare something to say? "We went to high school together," I pointed out, like that would preclude us from having a meet-cute.

"So?" Mom urged.

I had no idea what to say. My mind just blanked.

"When I started at HHH, my sister and I got in under a special allowance so I could play hockey there," Asher said. "It wasn't my local school; as you probably know, I grew up south of River Street."

My father nodded, listening closely.

"It was freshman year. I went to the Chickadee Diner in town with my sister. She was applying for a dishwasher position there. Outside, there was a homeless man — not a common sight this side of town, but easy enough to find in my neighborhood. I waited outside for my sister. Plenty of people came and went, but they all walked past him."

It was still around the table. I had a horrible fear of where Asher was going with this story. Was he about to call all rich people assholes or something equally terrible? I had no memory of the day he was talking about.

"Then Winter came along. She was in her cheerleading stuff. Gorgeous, like always. She went into the diner, and after a little bit came right back out. She had a takeout box, and she gave it to the guy, drink and all."

I cast my mind back to when he was talking about. I still couldn't remember. I'd bought meals for nearly every homeless person I'd ever walked past. I had no memory of Asher watching me.

He stared at me. "I knew she wasn't like the others right then. She was something…more."

Mom clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes damp. "Oh my, that's some meet-cute."

My dad was smiling. "That's my princess. She has the biggest heart in town, even if she hides it." He winked at me, clearly charmed by the story.

I couldn't look at Asher. I didn't know what to think or feel about that story. I'd always kept busy with cheerleading and that whole crowd. Asher and the hockey team had been a different world. We had orbited each other for a long time, never really interacting, except the occasional brush…until senior year. Then he'd hated me, seemingly for no reason, and I'd been a brat right back to his obvious dislike. Now, we were no longer orbiting. Our worlds had crashed into each other. No matter what happened in the future, now I could say I'd known him. He had been a part of my life, for however long it was going to last. The final thought made me sad, and I pushed it away.

A knock at the door pulled my attention.

Francis poked his head in. "There's an urgent call for you," he told my father.

Mom sighed and set down her fork. "We're eating." Dad patted her hand, and she pulled it away.

"I'll be back in just a minute. Let's take a break before dessert, how's that? Maybe Winter wants to give her boyfriend a tour of the house."

"I'd like that," Asher suddenly piped up.

Mom rolled her eyes at Dad's suggestion but took her cocktail and magazine back to the couch in front of the fireplace.

Asher stood and held his hand out to me. "How about that tour?"

I bit my lip and stood, too. "Fine."

We turned left out of the dining room and started along the endless hall of the ground floor. I pointed out rooms as we went.

"What's this?" Asher asked, sticking his head behind a discreet door.

"Powder room," I muttered. I couldn't believe we were only halfway through the evening. Everything was going well, but I was just waiting for one of us to slip up. Being caught in a lie at this point would be beyond embarrassing.

Asher grabbed my hand and tugged me to the powder room. "Come here. Christ, your fingers are cold."

Inside the powder room was small and cramped. Far too intimate for my oscillating emotions. Asher shut the door behind us and leaned back against it, eyeing me up and down.

"What is it?" I wondered.

"You. You need to relax. You're wound extra tight, and you're going to blow this whole thing."

"I'm not that tense."

"It's coming off you in waves. You need to calm down. Take a deep breath." His tone was so bossy.

"Stop telling me what to do," I snapped. "I'm fine!" My voice rose shrilly toward the end of the sentence, in direct opposition to my words.

He seemed completely unconvinced. "Try again, without the foot stomp this time."

"Ash," I fumed, and crossed my arms over my chest. "I might be tense, but you're just making me mad."

He had the cheek to smirk. "My God-given talent. Anyway, I've got an idea for how to make you loosen up. Get on the counter."

"Was that story real? The one about the diner?"

He nodded. "You don't remember?" He grinned and then tutted. "See, it doesn't matter what walls you put up, or parts you try to play, your true nature comes out, Winter."

"My true nature?" I repeated.

"If you gave a homeless guy food one time outside the diner, you might remember. If you did it all the time, you probably wouldn't. Time to face facts. You just aren't as mean as you like to pretend you are."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just fidgeted, suddenly feeling shy. What the hell? I couldn't even take a compliment from this guy?

"Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me. Now, get up, we're running out of time." He pointed at the counter again.

"What?" I wondered, turning.

He pushed back hand lotion and tiny hand towels to make space for me.

"Get on the counter and what?" I asked.

He patted the damn surface until I huffed and perched on the edge. "Well? What now?"

He took my dress and inched it up to my waist. Then he wrapped his hands around my knees and tugged me forward, so I was lying nearly flat against the cold surface.

"Now — spread 'em for me." He pulled his knife from his inner jacket pocket.

What kind of psycho carried a knife in a ten-thousand-dollar suit? I let out a gasp of shock when he lowered the knife to my panties.

"Now wouldn't be a good time to move," he said quietly, his eyes focused on his task.

Heat charged through me as his strong fingers peeled my panties away from my pussy, and the sound of the lace slicing under the blade filled the air. He tore the remnants off and tossed them onto the counter.

"What the hell are you doing?" I murmured, my heart racing.

I was totally bare down there now, and Asher Martino was staring right at me. All of me. Heat raced across my skin. I felt embarrassed and turned on. I wasn't thinking about my parents or how well dinner was going anymore. He'd erased everything else out of my head.

"I'm going to eat your cunt until you come all over my face, and then we're going to go back out there and finish dinner…relaxed and calm."

"What?"

"Coming will relax you. You're wound so tight you're going to burst. Best do it right here and now…in my mouth."

"I-I — we can't," I spluttered, my brain suddenly devoid of language skills.

"We can. We are. You have no choice. This is my dessert, and I'll be taking it now," he said slowly, and lowered himself to his knees.

I could only stare when his warm mouth slid up my inner thigh and landed on my pussy. His tongue was so heated and wet, I jumped. He glided his mouth up and down my slit, his tongue tracing my clit and down to my entrance, dipping inside and then going back up to do it all over again. Pleasure wove through me, loosening my muscles and silencing my protests. Fuck, this was hot. It was amazing, actually. I'd had no idea. I was wrong, clearly. No battery-operated device could replace this man's talented mouth.

"Fuck, you taste so sweet…How can such sweetness come from such a brat?"

"Fuck you, Martino," I gasped, biting my lip when he sucked my entire clit into his mouth and rolled it around behind his lips. The feeling made me hot and cold all at once, and utterly weak.

"Don't tempt me, Ice Queen. We only have time for one of us to come, and tonight, it's you." He took his middle finger, nimble but long and thick, and sucked it deep in his mouth, wetting it, then putting it at my entrance. "Let's see how tight you're going to be for me, Your Majesty."

I opened my mouth to respond but lost all train of when he eased his finger inside me.

"Fuck," he breathed and leaned down, feasting on my clit with renewed energy.

I nearly shot off he counter as he laved my clit while thrusting his finger in and out, in and out.

"Oh my God, oh my God," I muttered in a chant, picking up speed.

The peak rushed toward me, and it was almost scary. My muscles were spasming without my consent, my pussy was pulsing, ridiculously wet and eager. My fingers were in Asher's hair, tousling it beyond repair, stopping him from moving even an inch. He was face-deep in my cunt, and it felt so right. If he stopped now, I'd die.

"Shh," he murmured against me, grabbing the sliced-up panties from the counter and holding them to my mouth. "Open up like a good fucking girl."

I shook my head, self-conscious at the thought of putting my own panties in my mouth, as if I wasn't totally bare, spread out on the counter and about to come embarrassingly hard. Logic had no place here, clearly.

Asher chuckled and nudged a second blunt finger inside me. My mouth dropped open at the full feeling.

"Be a brat, then…it's what you're best at."

As soon as my mouth opened, he stuffed the panties inside, just in time to muffle my shriek at his third finger.

He was splitting me open with that hand, impaling me, stretching me, turning me inside out. I couldn't bear it. I was hovering on the edge, about to fall.

Then he leaned in and circled my clit with his tongue ruthlessly, once, twice…and on the third circle, I lost it. My entire body seized, pleasure turning my vision white. Everything was magnified. The cold hard counter beneath me, the scratch of the lacy dress, the satin of Asher's brown waves under my fingers, and his hot breath burning my skin. Marking me forever. There was the Winter who'd made herself come a few times with expensive gadgets and never once expected to top that experience with a real live human, and then there was the Winter who'd just seen stars at the other end of Asher Martino's cruel and merciless touch.

I came for so long, my muscles ached when the waves of pleasure finally ebbed. I was spent and shaking, and not from nerves this time.

Asher pulled my panties from my mouth and pocketed them. Then he reached for one of the tiny hand towels I was resting my head on.

He used it to clean my wet inner thighs, patting my pussy. I leaned up on an elbow and stared at him, vaguely horrified by the intimate act.

He tutted, a grin playing on his lips. "What a messy girl you are, Your Majesty."

"Oh my God," I repeated faintly, letting him tug me up when he was done. "What the hell was that?" I asked in a dazed voice.

Asher pushed down my dress and adjusted his straining cock so it wasn't quite so obvious in his dress pants.

"That was a hell of a sight. Now, let's go and finish this dinner." He leaned down and looked in the mirror over the sink, adjusting his tie and smoothing back his hair. Then he turned, unlocked the door, and strolled out like he hadn't just rocked my world.

In a dream, fighting to come back to Earth, I followed.