Ashton - The Agreement (The Cocky Smiling O Stories Book 2) Read online

  “Probably some kids smoking cigarettes.”

  “Great, so we’ll smell like smoke and…”

  “Cum, honey,” I say. “Definitely more like cum.”

  We descend the old stone stairs. They’re steep and partially covered with overgrowth. For a moment I wonder if the city has demolished the old boathouse. There’s no doubt that it wouldn’t make the cut with today’s building codes. My sandals slip and Ash turns, steadying me, his strong hand securing my waist.

  “Are you OK?”

  In the darkness, I can’t see the blue of his eyes, but in his familiar concerned tone I hear both my friend and a new additional protectiveness.

  “Yes. I’m good.”

  We reach the top of the boathouse. It’s concrete and built into the hill near the river’s edge. The old metal door is slightly ajar.

  “Hello?” Ash says in a deep whisper.

  My heartbeat quickens as we await a response. What if there are kids? What about a homeless person? What about someone more dangerous? Why does this suddenly seem like a stupid move?

  We’re adults. We both have our own apartment, and we’re sneaking into a seventy-year-old abandoned building to have sex.

  Ashton pushes the door. It barely moves, but the squeak is deafening. Using his broad shoulder, he pushes harder. The metal scrapes across the concrete, the sound like an alarm alerting anyone within a mile of our whereabouts.

  With a flashlight app on his phone, Ashton shines a light inside the old building. Cobwebs drape over the painted windows and in the corners. I cling to his hand. “Do you think there are animals?”

  His flashlight scans the floor. “Nothing bigger than a mouse or a squirrel.”

  “A mouse?”

  He pulls me inside. With his phone flashlight off and only moonlight as our illumination, the room comes into focus. On the one wall is a tool bench or at least I think it used to be. It’s a wooden shelf, about three feet wide attached to one of the walls. Behind it is a board peppered with holes, like one my father has that contains hooks and tools. Ash brushes the surface and confirms that there’s nothing that breathes on the bench.

  Then in one quick move he grasps my waist and lifts me to the bench. My feet dangle as I stop worrying more about mice and concentrate on his deliberate movements.

  “You were so strong, facing that asshole.”

  His words encourage me as he lifts my tank top over my head.

  “I wanted to take you right then and there.”

  He unlatches my bra, laying it on top of my shirt.

  “God, I love these tits…” Ashton’s words fade as he leans forward and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth.

  Both of my nipples bead as he cups my breasts, sucking one and then the other. I lean back holding myself on my arms, longing to pull him closer. “Ash…”

  “I’m going to eat you, Jess.”

  My insides twist as my pussy clenches. “I thought we were planning that for my apartment.”

  He touches my lips. “Did that sound like I was asking your permission?”

  Oh fuck…

  This isn’t my lifelong friend. This is the Ashton Michaels others have talked about.

  “Ash…”

  He reaches for the button on my jeans and expertly snaps it open and peels down the zipper. Brushing my core with his nose, he inhales, the sound filling the old building.

  “Lift your ass, Jess, I have honey to eat.”

  My arms quiver as I do what he says. My jeans and panties move down and soon join my bra and shirt in a pile. Ashton removes my sandals and grins as he lifts my feet, my knees high, and my pussy and ass exposed.

  “You’re fucking gorgeous,” he says as he scans my exposed sex.

  A modest part of me is glad the lighting is dim, but as my pussy clenches and I grow wet I’m less embarrassed and more aroused.

  I gasp as Ash’s tongue swipes my sex, from my tight hole to my clit.

  “Hmmm,” he hums just before plunging deep.

  His tongue laps in and out, teasing my clit, sucking my cum as my arms give out and I fall to my elbows.

  “Fuck, Ash…” I moan.

  His speed increases as my hips jump.

  Undeterred, Ashton holds my hips down as he fucks me with his tongue pushing me closer and closer to my orgasm. It’s when he adds his skilled fingers, plunging deeper inside of me, and then circling my tight hole that I scream his name.

  “Ashton.”

  “Shhh, honey, let me show you how good you can feel.”

  I’ve never had anyone near my butthole. The few who have tried I’ve stopped. But as his finger pushes past the tight muscles, my shoulders hit the wall and my hips quiver. The stimulation is more than I ever imagined. He’s working both holes, his finger and his tongue. Sweat moistens my skin and I bite my lip. Breathing seems overrated as I pant and gasp.

  All I can think about is how good it feels, and how I don’t want him to stop.

  When his thumb strokes my clit, every muscle in my body tightens and wave after wave washes through me. The sound of the river is lost as convulsions overtake my body and my feet slip from the bench. By the time my eyes open, Ashton is moving my feet to the floor and turning me around. My breasts are against the old bench and I suck in a deep breath as his cock pushes against my pussy’s entrance.

  I taste my own cum as he cranes my neck backward and kisses me. His tongue dances with mine as my back arches and his monster cock plunges inside of me. In and out, my breasts rub the counter and my cunt stretches as Ash works to get his full length inside of me.

  Full. Deliciously filled. Ashton Michaels fills me like no one ever has. In no time, my pussy again clenches as he pushes me toward another orgasm. His rhythm grows faster as his cock continues to harden and grow inside of me.

  Again his finger enters my tight hole.

  “Oh…oh…God…” Words are difficult to form.

  “That’s it, honey. Tonight my finger, but soon it’ll be my dick in your tight hole.”

  I shake my head, telling him no, but the words won’t form. I trust this man. I trust my friend not to hurt me. As those thoughts form, my body again detonates. As my pussy clenches and hugs his cock, my shoulders fall to the bench and the boathouse fills with Ashton’s roar.

  The deep growl echoes in the concrete boathouse as his cock throbs and our cum covers my thighs, dripping down my legs. Ashton collapses over me, still inside of me, his chest against my back, warming and protecting me.

  “I…I…That was amazing,” Ashton whispers near my ear.

  What was he going to say? When he doesn’t say more…I agree, “It was.”

  After scanning my membership card, I make my way from the front desk toward the treadmills. I’m not thinking about the chick with the tits and ass. To be totally honest, my mind is filled with Jess. I woke Saturday morning in her apartment, my body wrapped around hers. She was sound asleep and snoring. OK, not snoring. She was breathing in rhythm, and it was adorable. The way her lips were parted, like all I would need to do was insert my dick and she’d be ready to suck. The way she cuddled against my chest.

  It was everything I never wanted, but found instantly lovable.

  I keep questioning my existence. I’m Ashton Michaels. I fuck. I move on.

  Never. Never ever. Never have I woke cuddling and been happy about it. There was this one time in college. I’ll blame the alcohol and the fact that the chick was a cheerleader and so fucking flexible…but the point was…I woke…She cuddled. I got my ass out of Dodge.

  Saturday, I lingered. I didn’t move. My dick did…because, fuck, Jess was there. Cuddling. Breathing. And just there.

  Morning sex was nearly as great as evening, in the boathouse, and night, back at her place. It was as if my dick forgot how to be anything but hard.

  We talked. We talked about her parents, about Jack, about the cancelled wedding. She seemed to be in a good place…so I did what friends do. I went home.

  Tha
t was Saturday afternoon. Today is Monday, and I’m fucking obsessed.

  I’ve never checked my phone every ten minutes.

  Until now.

  If she weren’t Jess, I’d be calling her. But this is virgin ground. The friendship zone. The benefits zone. This is hell!

  I step onto the treadmill and hit enter. My age, my weight, the course I want to run. My fingers push without my thoughts engaging. It isn’t until I’m part way through my warm-up that I notice Miss Tits and Ass beside me. Every few steps, she side glances my way.

  You know…not turning her head. Not really looking, just eying me with a frown.

  I recall my plan. Lift my shirt, wipe my brow, claim my friend’s distress, but I no longer give a fuck.

  It’s one of those epiphany moments. The proverbial sky opens and the chorus of angels sings.

  “Ashton Michaels"—Their voices come together in a melody of chords— “isn’t noticing a fine piece of ass.”

  OK. Maybe angels don’t say ass.

  Nevertheless, it is an epiphany.

  I don’t care about Miss Tits and Ass. I don’t give a shit whether she is upset or forgives me. Even my dick isn’t interested. Fuck. We’ve been inside Jess multiple times since Thursday night and all either one of us wants is to go back.

  To stay.

  To hibernate.

  To fucking cuddle.

  I run faster on my treadmill, increasing the incline, and hoping that maybe the desire will change.

  It doesn’t.

  I pick up my phone while wiping the sweat from my eyes.

  I haven't spoken to Jess since Saturday. I'm Ashton Michaels—chicks call me.

  Blinking away the sweat, I squint toward my phone. Hoping, praying for...

  One message.

  One call.

  It’s all I want.

  But there's nothing.

  "Ashton? Are you going to explain yourself?" Miss Tits and Ass asks.

  My dick reminds me of a saying: A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.

  I fight the urge to grin. I'm thinking one in the hand, is definitely not worth one in Jess's blonde trimmed bush.

  "Sorry," I manage. "We didn't exchange numbers and an emergency came up."

  She narrows her eyes as she picks up her pace. Her tits sway as her feet pound the treadmill. "So let me give you my number."

  I almost choke on my response. It's new to me, but for the first time I can remember, it's the most honest response I can give. "Thanks. You should keep it. There's someone else who I'm kind of seeing."

  Miss Tits and Ass doesn't miss a beat. "If you're only kind of seeing someone, I'm free for the part of you that isn't seeing someone." She shrugs. "I'm kind of seeing a few people, too."

  When had I ever turned down casual, no-strings-attached sex?

  My memory is a little fuzzy from before I turned fifteen, but going out on a limb, I'm going to guess the answer is never.

  I smile and say, "I'll remember that. Right now I need to see where this is going." With that, I put my ear buds back into my ears and concentrate on the pounding bass, pushing myself to keep up the pace.

  I'm not sure what Miss Tits and Ass says or if she even responds. I'm too busy wondering if I should break another of my policies and call Jess. As I think and run, and think and run...I recall calling her on Friday. Maybe I already do treat her differently.

  But on Friday, I tell myself, we were still more squarely in the friends zone. We'd only stepped outside the box one night. Now it feels different.

  Now with her memory comes twinges and recollections...her cumming over and over. In the boathouse. Back at her apartment.

  My blood should be pumping as I run. It should be racing through my heart and exiting to all parts of my body. But as I think about her sweet honey, about my finger in her tight hole, about the way she says my name, I begin to worry I might get lightheaded.

  My blood isn't doing its job. Instead, my dick twitches and grows hard.

  “Either spill or set me up with your friend.”

  I look up from my computer, lost in the advertising proposal I was putting together for a big athletics company. I like my campaign and feel like it should be well received. I’ve constructed it all on my own, but I was currently double-checking, making sure it wasn’t already out there.

  Sometimes what seems like a unique idea could have been subconsciously planted by observing other advertising. The last thing my firm wants is a lawsuit claiming copyright or trademark issues.

  “Sorry,” I say to Kathy. “What?”

  She hands me a cup of coffee. I recognize the white cup. It's from the corner shop. As she does, she grins and lifts her shoulders innocently. “Something’s up," she says. "I can sense it. Last week it was a million flowers. That day you were distracted. Today…well, you’re focused, but every now and then you just smile. Is it Jack? What did he do?”

  I take a deep breath. “Um, no. It's not Jack. I broke off the wedding.”

  Kathy’s eyes go wide. “Holy crap! You did what? Were you going to tell us?”

  From the neighboring cubicle, Ashley pops her head over the partition. It always reminds me of that neighbor on an old show my mom used to watch. You never saw the neighbor's whole face. I think his name was Wilson.

  “What did I just hear?" Ashley asks. "Damn it, Jess, I already bought your gift.”

  I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I just…”

  “Break time!” Kathy announces with a clap of her hands.

  The clock on the corner of my computer says 9:35. It’s hardly time for break. But from experience I know I’ll never get work done if I don’t indulge Kathy and Ashley for at least a few minutes.

  As soon as we clear the break room, Ashley slams the door closed and begins her rapid-fire questions.

  “What the hell? Details, girl. Now. Was it him? He wasn’t as good in bed as you thought?”

  Kathy joins in. “I think you tasted a different nectar and decided Jack’s wasn’t sweet enough.”

  I square my shoulders. “What?”

  “Set me up with Ashton,” Kathy says.

  “What?” I ask again.

  “It’s him. Isn’t it?” Kathy asks. Her lips pursed and brow furrowed, as if she's asking me the most incriminating of questions.

  “It wasn’t,” I answer truthfully.

  “Wasn’t?” Ashley asks.

  “Are you seriously double-teaming me?” I ask, walking toward the water cooler and pouring myself a cup. I know I have coffee on the table, but I need to move. As the cooler bubbles, I feel their eyes on my back, waiting, ready to pounce.

  I turn around in time to see them eye one another.

  “OK," I say. "Promise to keep it quiet. I mean, like, to your graves, never tell a living soul?”

  Again, Kathy and Ashley look at each other.

  “Is it that big of a deal?” Ashley asks.

  I love her. We’ve been friends since my first day at the advertising firm. She's refreshingly simple and direct. She says exactly what she’s thinking, which, by the way, is a complete contradiction to her work. She’s amazing at advertising. One of those smart-as-shit people with a naïve personality.

  “It kind of is,” I say as I sit at the lunch table with my coffee and water in front of me. Taking the lid off the coffee Kathy brought me, I blow lightly on the steaming liquid and await their answers.

  “Swear,” Kathy says as she sits.

  “Pinky swear,” Ashley says as she plops down next to Kathy.

  “Thursday night,” I begin, “I went home early and found Jack with someone.”

  “Like a business thing?” Ashley asks.

  Kathy’s jaw clenches as she stares my direction. “With?”

  “With,” I confirm.

  “And yet,” Kathy says, “I didn’t see you on my newsfeed for murder.”

  I shrug. “Had I been thinking clearer…”

  “Wait! What?” Ashley asks. “Jack? He what?”

&
nbsp; Kathy and I continue our conversation. “What did you do?”

  “I freaked the shit out. I left my engagement ring on the counter and called Ashton.”

  Kathy leans back in her chair. “Sweeter nectar?”

  I close my eyes, deciding if I should share. Once I do, my mind is filled with Ashton's words of encouragement. The way he supported me at my parents'. The way he filled and surrounded me. The way he's never lied to me. The way my pussy clenches at the emptiness that comes after his monster cock pulls out of me.

  But…

  I know.

  Ashton is my friend. That is all we’ll ever be. We agreed to that when we were teenagers. We might have amended our agreement so that now we have benefits, but this isn’t forever. This is Ashton. He lives in the right now.

  I refocus on Ashley. She may be naïve, but she’s also the voice of reason. “…your parents…”

  I shrug again. “It seems as though they never really liked Jack. My dad apparently would have voted him off the island.”

  Ashley’s eyes widen. “What island?”

  Kathy goes on as if Ashley hadn’t spoken. “He had an air.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask, suddenly defensive that neither my friends nor family approved of my ex-fiancé.

  “It means…good the hell for you!”

  I can’t help but smile.

  “Ashton?” Kathy asks. “You still willing to hook me up?”

  “He’s been great to me. Very supportive.” I take a sip of the still-hot coffee. "Like he's always been."

  “Like, jock-strap supportive?” Kathy asks.

  I lose focus on my coffee and look at her. “Jock strap?”

  “Supportive in the nether regions,” she confirms.

  I take a deep breath trying to hold back my smile. “Maybe.”

  “Anything more?”

  I shake my head again. “No. We've been friends forever. That’s all it will ever be.”

  Ashley stands. “Josh and I were friends long before we were lovers. Two kids later, I think there’s something to be said about dependability and reliability. Has Ashton always been that for you?”

  “Yes,” I reply sheepishly.