Page 58 of The Influencer

jade

I’m shivering. I’m surprised he hasn’t commented on it because it’s so obvious. I’ve got nerves firing everywhere—my groin, my chest, my brain which is freaking the fuck out because I can’t read Asher’s mind, but I’m so afraid I know what he’s thinking.

And I get it.

I swallow. The click of my throat is as loud as a crack of lightning between us. “Did you change your mind?” I ask so softly I can barely hear myself.

“No,” he responds, just as quiet.

“Is there something else you want? Other than a date?”

Asher shakes his head slowly.

“You sure?”

His teeth tug at my lower lip again, drawing a soft sigh from me. A tingle crawls up my scalp and a more obvious shiver takes my body. “Who all’s on your schedule this week? Besides me and Ben?”

I lick my lips and draw in a breath. “Chase and Javier. But they’re a couple.”

“Ah.”

“What does ‘ah’ mean?” I ask.

“Means, ah, I see.”

“Okay.”

I wait and breathe, and breathe and wait some more, my fingers curling themselves in the center seam of his button-down shirt. He kisses me. Easy and gentle at first, his lips barely pulling at mine, and I sigh long, but not quite relieved. I scrape my fingertips through his beard again, the roughness of it comforting and stimulating at the same time. His mouth opens, and I respond immediately, licking in to find his tongue, warm and wet and hungry for mine. A rush of adrenaline cascades through me, and I press in with my entire body. He grips me tight and stands up.

My God, he’s a machine.

I wrap my legs around him as he kicks his way past the coffee table and carries me down the hall to my bedroom, our mouths in a perma-lock.

“Turn on your lights and cameras,” he says when he sets me down.

“I’m sorry?” I don’t think I heard him right.

“I don’t want to waste your time. Make some content. You don’t even have to blur my face. No one knows who the fuck I am anyway.”

I think I might flutter a little, unsure how to take this or what to do. “Um… okay.” I flit around the room, powering up the studio version of the bedroom. He unbuttons his shirt and watches my every move. I kind of want to puke, but why should this be any different than any other guy I met on Grindr who was down to create some content with me?

It’s not. It’s the exact same thing.

There’s no pressure here whatsoever, and my brain is just confused. I’m probably just nervous the sex won’t be as good as the first time—that’s all. I’m misinterpreting the anxiety as emotion, but it’s just a primal response to lust and, not unimportantly, to a man with the strongest core ever. Anyone would be a little intimidated.

I strip down to my underwear, and he does the same. He’s got on boxers, and I’m wearing skimpy white briefs. He’s seen me naked before, but I never got the full view of him until now. His legs are like tattooed tree trunks, and he has a solid six pack with one of the best Vs I’ve ever seen. He’s wearing a leather cuff on his right wrist, which I have to assume is as ironic as the wallet chain, but it’s really sexy, even if it is painfully out of date. He could bring it back, though.

On him, it looks meant to be.

He gestures to the bed. “You’re the expert. Lead the way.”

I’m standing eight feet from him and it might as well be a million. “Asher?”

He lifts his brows in question.

I try to bring this situation back to terms we can both get on board with. “You agreed to fuck me. Let’s do it your way.”

He runs his hand over the front of his shorts, gripping his erection through the fabric. In his other hand, he’s holding a wrapped condom. “You’re humoring me, aren’t you? You’re not gonna post this.”

---