Small Town Pretender by Brighton Walsh

Nat wasn’t a cuddler. Much like when she was wide awake, she liked her space when she slept. Hated having the dead weight of someone else’s extremities trapping her in place. That was what it had always felt like—being cornered with nowhere to go. It was suffocating.

Now, though, as she woke to Asher’s arm slung over her waist, his chest pressed against her back and lips against her shoulder, the only thing she felt was irritation that she couldn’t spy on his sleeping form easily.

Carefully, so as not to wake him, she rolled over, still in the confines of his arms, until she faced him. She held her breath for long moments, waiting to see if her movements would wake him, but when she was sure she was in the clear, she snaked her hand up between them. Traced the shadowed arc of his long, dark lashes brushing his cheeks, outlined the curve and bow of his lips, scratched her nails lightly through the surprisingly soft hair of his beard. A beard she’d felt on her breasts…her inner thighs. Her pussy.

Her stomach somersaulted when images of last night flashed in her mind. How he’d looked braced over her, his jaw set in determination, his eyes locked on her as he’d moved so confidently inside her. As he’d proven every bit of her made-up rumor completely false.

That had been the best lie of her life.

When it came to sex, she’d never been one to get emotionally attached. She’d always viewed it as merely an exchange of pleasure and nothing more. Though last night had certainly proven that viewpoint wrong. It’d been more than just a couple orgasms for her. She’d felt it in every inch of her body.

In every inch of her soul.

Deciding that thought was better left ignored, she extricated herself from his arms to slide down his body. Her mouth quirked when he rolled onto his back, making her destination that much easier. Last night, after they’d showered—and managed another round in there—and were lying in bed, he’d whispered that she should feel free to wake him up with a blow job anytime she felt like it. And who was she to deny him what he obviously wanted?

After all, turnabout was fair play, since he’d had his fun last night, licking her to orgasm—twice—and she’d only managed barely more than a glimpse of his cock. Though she’d felt every inch of it inside her…knew exactly how amazingly it stretched her, she wanted to get a little more up close and personal with her new favorite toy.

She wasn’t one to fawn over a penis. In her mind, a dick was a dick, but even she couldn’t deny how mouthwateringly thick Asher’s was, even only half hard. Wrapping her fingers around him, she squeezed lightly and swiped her tongue through his slit, smiling when his cock twitched and hardened under her touch. God, she couldn’t wait for him to fill her again. Stretch her until he was all she could feel.

Unable to continue teasing him with small licks, she engulfed his head in her mouth, sucking deep as she swirled her tongue around him and relished in his groan.

“Nat?” he asked, the low, sleep-roughened timbre of his voice sending tingles straight to her clit.

With her lips stretched tight around him, she lifted her gaze and met his eyes, a smug satisfaction overcoming her at his whispered, “Jesus.”

He slipped his fingers into her hair and dropped his head back on his pillow with a low, deep groan. Keeping her hand tightly wrapped around him, she pumped his length as she sucked him deep into her mouth, pulsing her tongue against the sensitive underside. Her clit throbbed with each groan from his lips, each twitch of his thighs beneath her palm, each careful tug of his fingers in her hair, as if he wanted desperately to hold her still so he could fuck her mouth hard and fast but was holding back.

She wasn’t sure if it was his obvious restraint or his desperate need that pushed her over the edge, but it was all too much. Some other time, he could come in her mouth. Hell, she’d do it again later today if he wanted, but right now, she was too wet. Too aching for him. She needed to feel him inside her again. Needed to see if being with him was just as intense in the light of day as it had been when darkness cloaked them.

She released him with a pop and climbed up his body, settling herself over his length. Gripping him tightly, she flicked the head of his cock against her clit, groaning as pleasure shot through her.

“Thought I was dreamin’,” he murmured, grabbing two handfuls of her ass and taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

“You tellin’ me I’m the woman of your dreams?” she asked as she lined him up at her entrance.

“You have no idea…”

With that hanging in the air between them, she sank down, her breath catching as her pussy stretched to accommodate his size. Panting, she stared down at him with half-lidded eyes. Ran her hands over his defined chest. Traced each ridge of muscle, outlined every tattoo. Her fingers itched for her camera, if only to capture the look on his face as he stared up at her like she was the answer to every prayer he’d ever had.

How had she known him her whole life, and yet this was all new? She’d seen him without a shirt on countless times, but she’d never known the way the rising sun would cast shadows across his tight abdomen as it rippled with need. Hadn’t known the tenor of his deep, agonized moans as she seated herself on his cock completely, pressing her clit against him while she rocked back and forth, as close as two people could get. Hadn’t known how well his hands would fit the exact shape and size of her hips…her breasts… Hadn’t known how sweet it’d sound to hear him whisper her name in the throes of ecstasy.

“You’re gonna make me come,” he said, his fingers digging into her hips as she sat back against his raised thighs.

Rocking faster, she panted and shook her head. “Me first.”

“Always.” He slipped one hand down, the rough tips of his callused fingers strumming her as well as he strummed a guitar.

While he drove her out of her mind with one hand and gripped her hip with the other, she reached up and cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples as she rode him to their peaks. The sight must’ve been too much for him, because, with a groan, he pressed high with his hips, holding her in place above him as he thrust up in a fast, unforgiving pace.

“Oh my God.” She came on a sob, bracing herself on his chest as she collapsed forward. The waves of her orgasm washed over her even as he continued pumping his cock deep inside her, extending her pleasure as she shuddered through her release.

“Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth. “Love how you look when you come on me.”

Catching her breath, she pressed her chest to his, sliding her fingers through his hair as she nipped his lower lip, soothing the sting with her tongue. “Love how you look when you fill me up.”

“Nat,” he groaned, his hips stilling as he thrust up and pressed deep. His cock throbbed inside her as he came, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass.

She stared down at him, watching the pleasure sweep across his face as he spilled himself inside her. As there was nothing left between them…no secret left to uncover, no boundary they hadn’t crossed. Her breath caught at the intimacy of feeling him without a barrier between them…something she’d never experienced with anyone before.

So, it hadn’t just been last night, when they’d been swept up in the day’s events. When they’d started this all because of a challenge—a flimsy excuse, but one apparently both of them had needed to admit to wanting to try something they knew better than to gamble their friendship on. But she had complete certainty, even as she felt his warmth inside her, that this wasn’t an anomaly.

The two of them had always clicked, more so than even she and Nash—though now it was clear this thing between her and Asher spilled into the bedroom as well. Their ease around each other had allowed them a level of comfort she hadn’t ever had with anyone else. Something she wasn’t sure she’d ever find again. Wasn’t sure she even wanted to.

She didn’t need to think about that now, though. Not while he was tracing the rough pads of his fingertips along her spine. Not when he was kissing her jaw, pressing his nose to her neck and inhaling deep. Not as he gripped her tight and flipped her beneath him, grinning down at her squeak of surprise, his sleep-mussed hair hanging down and tickling her breasts as he kissed his way across her chest.

She allowed her lids to flutter shut as he closed his lips around her nipple and got lost in the feel of his body against hers.

Later, she’d contemplate what this all meant. Later, she’d play this over again in her mind, breaking it down and locking it away in neat little boxes so it made sense.

Later, she could worry about what the aftermath would be when she left.