When Drew turned around to speak, the hurt look had been replaced by a sort of wary, puzzled expression. He raked his hand through his hair.
“I don’t get it. What don’t you know how to do?”
“Forgive me, but I tend to argue a point better when I have clothes on.” The sense of relief that the night hadn’t all gone to shit hit him with a force so overwhelming, he braced himself against the wall. He held a hand out to Drew. “Will you please come back to bed?”
Although Drew did nothing more than nod, those gorgeous green eyes of his flared for a moment, giving Ash hope that the night had not yet ended for them. And as Drew’s hand slipped into his, Ash gave it a gentle squeeze, then laced their fingers together. He could almost hear Mr. Frank’s voice in the hallway, speaking to him.
“Take a chance, Asher. Open your heart.”
Even though that wasn’t about to happen, he wasn’t ready to let Drew go. Not yet. He sat at the edge of the bed, placing his hand on Drew’s chest, holding him in place. By now, the moon had shifted, taking its luminescence with it, leaving the room in near total darkness. The way he liked it. The way he needed it.
Without any words, Drew once again removed his shirt, and Ash slid the jeans and boxers down to his ankles. The outline of Drew’s smooth, pale cock was visible in the darkness, and without any hesitation, Ash bent down and took it in his mouth, drawing a yelp of surprise, then a long-drawn-out moan of pleasure from Drew.
And for him? No fear. Only desire.
This wasn’t him lying helpless and alone, unable to fight back. He was in charge. He was in control, and that thought spiked Ash’s own pleasure, causing his cock to swell with need. Ignoring his arousal, Ash ran his tongue on the underside of Drew’s cock, then, sucking the head and tonguing the slit at the tip, drew the shaft deep into his mouth. He held on to Drew’s slim hips, rubbing his fingers on the smooth globes of Drew’s ass, all the while keeping up the sliding friction of his mouth on this man’s cock.
Deeper and deeper Drew thrust into Ash’s mouth, and instead of fighting it like he thought he would, Ash welcomed it, wanted it in fact with an intensity that shocked and scared him to his core. For his entire life he’d denied himself the taste of a man in his mouth, thinking only of his degradation and debasement by his foster father. But with Drew pumping faster and harder, whimpering his pleasure, thrusting deeper into his mouth, Ash suddenly couldn’t get enough.
He released Drew for a moment but kept swirling his tongue around the smooth head of Drew’s erection, muttering against the glistening tip, “Go ahead, baby, fuck my mouth. Do it.” Then he slid his lips down Drew’s cock, relaxing his throat, taking him deep.
Drew held on to Ash’s shoulders, his fingers biting into the skin as he threw his head back, groaning his pleasure. “Shit. Oh my God.”
Ash slid his index finger into his mouth, wetting it with his saliva and precum. Then with a gentle swipe, he inserted it in the crease of Drew’s ass.
Like Ash knew would happen, Drew came, harder and noisier than he had before, his salty-sweet essence pumping into Ash’s mouth and down his throat while Drew’s cry of pleasure echoed throughout the room. Ash swallowed it all, then pulled away. For the briefest of moments the old fear grabbed at him, only to be knocked aside as Drew knelt down next to him, laying his head in Ash’s lap.
No pain, no hate. No fear.
“I want to do the same for you.” Drew’s breath puffed by Ash’s erect cock, and he touched Ash with hesitant, gentle fingers, but Ash brushed him off.
“You don’t have to, baby.” He took Drew’s hand in his and kissed his palm. “This night is for you. My pleasure is to give you pleasure. Now come.” He lifted the soft white comforter. “Climb in and rest some. I’m going to take a shower. You look beat, and you’re gonna need your rest.”
With a sweet sleepy smile, Drew stretched out and snuggled into the fluffy pillows. “I like that Southern accent.” He yawned and patted the bed. “Come on and join me. You need to rest too, considering you did all the work.”
Tempted as he was, Ash knew he needed to shower. He was sticky, sweaty, and needed to be clean. And clear his head about what had happened.
“I’ll be a few minutes.” Resisting the urge to kiss him, Ash turned on his heel and left for the bathroom. Once inside he stripped off his shirt and avoided the mirrors as usual. He turned the water on steamy hot and stepped in. He squirted out his favorite vanilla-scented soap and lathered himself up, washing away the sticky remnants of his and Drew’s cum. With his eyes closed, he stood under the heated waterfall of water, letting it pummel his face and roll off his back.
Without any warning, Drew yanked the shower curtain aside. “Hey, I thought I’d come and join you.”
He jumped, narrowly missing hitting his head on the shower fixture. “Fuck it, Drew. Why couldn’t you wait in the goddamn bedroom?” The pounding water beat down over his head as he tried to hold his arms behind his back. His gaze remained rooted to the shower floor, and he watched the rivulets of water swirl down into the drain.
He had no idea how long he stood there, until he noticed the water had stopped and Drew stood next to him, his dry warmth pressed up against his wet, shaking flesh.
“Ash,” Drew whispered, kissing his cheek. “Come out now. You’re clean. Let’s dry you off.”
Like a child, he allowed himself to be led out of the shower, wrapped up in a towel, and patted dry. After leading Ash back to the bedroom, Drew tugged him into bed and together they lay down on the rumpled sheets.
Finally, Drew spoke against his shoulder. “Whenever you want to talk to me, I’m here for you. But like you said earlier, make no mistake. You will talk to me, Asher Davis.”
Tired of it all, of everything in his whole fucked-up miserable life, he turned in Drew’s arms and snarled back at him. “You wanna talk? Well, all right, let’s talk. What do you wanna know?” He pointed to the white ridged scar on his wrist, a smile twisting his lips. “You want to know about the first time I tried to kill myself, or the last time I cut myself for fun?” he asked, pointing to a fresh new gash.
“Where do you wanna start?”
Chapter Twelve
Drew couldn’t take his eyes off Ash’s arms. Up and down, from wrist to elbow, his skin was riddled with scars. Many were older, thin white lines, but several were short, thick, and ugly twists of healed, ridged flesh. From the severity of the scars, there was more than likely some nerve damage that could never be repaired.
What troubled him more were the other ones, reddened, fresh and new, which told him this remained an ongoing problem for Ash. Drew knew how painful it must have been for Ash to cut himself that way. What demons did this beautiful, tortured man battle, even now, that caused him to maim himself like that? Drew’s grandmother was right to be afraid.
Whatever it was, Drew knew it somehow related to Ash’s past, the past he refused to talk about no matter how hard people pushed him to. Drew, Peter, even Drew’s grandmother couldn’t force Ash to reveal the horrors that gnawed at his soul. With a sinking realization in his heart, Drew recognized this night should never have happened, for so many reasons. It wasn’t that he regretted it. On the contrary, he’d been willing to go much further, if all had gone well.
Forcing Ash into a corner, hoping to get him to reveal his secrets was not going to help either one of them. But neither was pretending all was well and they could continue on as if nothing had happened. While Drew’s heart broke for Ash, the man had some serious issues to deal with that needed professional help.
“I’m not asking you why or to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Drew kept his tone nonconfrontational. “I’d hope that as a friend, you’d feel comfortable enough with me to maybe talk things out. Sometimes that helps.”
Shooting him a strange look, Ash scrambled out of the bed and, after rummaging around in his dresser, pulled out a thin sweatshirt and slipped it on. Once covered, Drew could see how Ash visibly relaxed. “Nothing will help. But thanks for the offer.”
Drew wanted to deck him. “Thanks for the offer? What am I, a salesman? For Christ’s sake, Ash, I’m sitting here naked in your bed, and you’re treating me as if I’m a fucking stranger.” Considering how this night had degenerated, he climbed out of bed as well and got dressed.
Ash shrugged. “There’s nothing to discuss. You got what you wanted and so did I, so let’s say good night.”
It was as if he were sitting at a board meeting. Hello, good-bye, thanks for coming. Literally.
“How do you know what I wanted? You never gave it a chance. I was willing to—”
“To what, Drew? Let me fuck you to see what it’s like? We still could, you know.”
“Why are you acting like such a bastard? I understand you’ve been hurt.”
Like a lion, Ash pounced on him, pushing him back onto the bed. “You understand? You think you understand? Why, because you’re lonely and took a walk on the wild side tonight with me? You know fucking nothing about me or my life, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”
Caught by surprise, Drew lost all power to move once those glittering icy eyes pinned him. “I’m your friend, if nothing else, and that’s what friends do, they help one another.”
“I don’t need friends, or a lover, or anyone trying to make me part of a family. I was fine before I met you, and I’ll be fine when you’re gone.”
Drew shook his head in disbelief. “You think you’re fine? Look at yourself. You’re a mess. One moment you’re decent, kind, and caring; the next you’re a cruel, hurtful bastard. You run from everything and everyone you think might get close to you.”
“Isn’t this where we started tonight?” Ash’s strained drawl didn’t fool Drew now. As if he were a balloon, Ash deflated, his shoulders slumping, and his head hung down.
“Yes, I remember now. You told me I wasn’t worth it. And you know something; you’re right. I’m not worth it. So go home, Doc, find a nice girl to fuck, and let me be.” This time he walked out of the room, and Drew followed.
Ash returned to where he must have been seated before Drew showed up tonight. The club chair stood by the dark, cold fireplace, the bottle of vodka and ice bucket resting like sentinels on the small table, awaiting his inevitable return. In his heart, Drew knew this was where Ash spent most of his time when he was at home. In that chair, with a bottle, staring off into a dark void of nothingness. What ghosts did he see as he sat all alone, deep into the night? Was it shadows of his past come to haunt him in the present? Once again Drew saw those twisting, ugly scars, and his own body winced in sympathetic pain.
“Ash, I said I was wrong, and I’m sorry. I spoke out of anger.”
The ice must’ve melted, as Ash peered into the bucket, shook his head, then sloshed some vodka in his glass and, with a practiced flip of his wrist, drank it off in two gulps. He poured another and repeated the action. Only then did he answer. “No, you merely spoke the truth, what I was always told.” He poured another glass and drank it down as well. “I’m not worth it. Jus’ a poor kid with no family.” He stood and began wandering around the spacious room, then tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. Flinging his arm out, he spun around. “But I showed them all, didn’t I, Mr. Frank? You said I was smart and I could make it.”
His heart breaking for this tortured man, Drew approached him with care. There was no way he’d leave him alone tonight in his fragile condition. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to Ash.
“Hey, buddy, why don’t you lie down?” Drew placed his hand on Ash’s shoulder. “I’ll help you back into the bedroom.”
Having stopped spinning, Ash stood swaying in the middle of the room, looking decidedly pale and ill. “I don’ feel so good.” He squinted into his empty glass. “Wha’ happened to my drink?”
He plucked the glass out of Ash’s hand. “No more drinks for you, my man. You need to lie down and go to bed.”
“With you?”
The hopeful note in Ash’s voice struck a chord in Drew’s heart. There was still so much about Ash he didn’t understand and wanted to learn. He wasn’t ready to dismiss the man, and certainly, after the revelations tonight, he knew he couldn’t. It had nothing to do with the sex, although his face warmed remembering the feel of Ash’s mouth on his cock.
Now wasn’t the time to think about that. He slid his arm around Ash’s shoulders and pulled him close. It was a little difficult, as Ash had several inches and at least twenty pounds on him, but after a few stumbles, he managed to push Ash back down the hallway and rather indelicately dump him into his bed. Drew turned on a night table lamp, casting a low glow over the room.
“Ow.” Ash rolled onto his back, his bleary face turned sideways as he mumbled into the pillows. “My head hurts.” Quicker than Drew thought possible, though, considering the man’s drunken state, Ash grabbed Drew’s T-shirt and pulled him down on top of Ash’s hard body.
“Oof.” He landed with his pelvis nestling in perfectly with Ash’s. As expected, Ash was most definitely aroused, but Drew had already made up his mind not to engage in any more sexual games with Ash until they had a chance to clear the air.
“Hey, none of that. You’re drunk, and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
A heavy hand clamped around his waist, and Ash’s lips found his neck. “I’m usually drunk when I fuck someone, so I think it’s a great idea.”
It was as if an icy bucket of water had been dumped on Drew’s head. His erection wilted almost instantly and, with a strength that shocked him, he wrenched away from Ash’s drunken nuzzling and stood up, spitting in anger.
“I’m not ‘somebody.’ I’m not some fucking piece of ass you picked up at a bar to screw and forget. I’m your friend, goddamn you. Friends are different.” Christ, he almost let this guy… Shit, it was too much to imagine. Almost without thinking, he stuck his face in Ash’s. “I’m different, or at least I thought I was.”
Ash merely stared back, unblinking, with those silvery eyes.
“So, you’re telling me I’m no different than that waiter who blew you in the hallway, the same as all those anonymous men you’ve fucked?”