Page 40 of Age of Shade

Adina sucks in a ragged breath, and I know she’s feeling it as blood rushes to my dick and I begin to harden again inside her. “Holy crap,” she whispers, the muscles in her belly spasming beneath my hand.

I don’t hurry this along, just lay still, murmuring quiet praise into her ear as my cock swells. I’ve never done this before, but it’s exquisite. “Does it hurt?” I ask when I’m fully seated, pushing my hand between her thighs to rub gentle circles over her swollen clit.

She trembles, arching closer. “Yes, but in a good way.”

Without another word, I roll over, pressing her into the mattress. As I begin to move and Adina lets out her first ragged moan, a sharp banging on the wall makes us both pause, looking up.

“For christ’s sake!” comes the muffled yell of my leering neighbor. “I get it!”

Yeah, I’m sure he does. Just to be sure, though, I lift Adina into my arms and cross the small room to fuck her against the wall.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

ADINA

“You’re doing a great job, Adina.”

I’m trying not to look too pleased with myself, but I might be fighting a losing battle. After all, social work is all I’ve wanted to do… forever. Well, not forever, but definitely since I grew out of the angry teenager that I was and decided to take a stab at living a normal life. Maybe it would seem crazy to some people that I was running right back into the world I so narrowly escaped, but it just felt… right.

I want to help kids like me; kids who might not have had the easiest start to life, but still deserve every opportunity to live. Not every lost girl has an Asher Roth and, despite how rough I’ve had it, I’ve never taken for granted how lucky I was. My story could have gone very differently, and if I can help just one other kid… well. Maybe working through my shit will be worth it.

It’s one thing to think all that, though, and it’s another for your internship supervisor to pull you into her office to praise your work for twenty minutes straight.

Pressing my lips together to keep myself from beaming, I nod very professionally. “Thanks so much, Faith.”

Faith’s office is tiny and cluttered, her windowless walls clustered with framed certificates and colorful hand-drawn pictures. There’s a stack of files on her desk that’s probablytaller than I am, and there’s a coffee stain on the front of her blouse. Still, she’s smiling warmly at me, and the research report I spent weeks slaving over is sitting in front of her, covered in highlighter marks.

“This really is good stuff.” She indicates the stapled packet. “I’m impressed. Do you have any plans for after you graduate?”

My stomach flips. “I, ah, always wanted to work here. As a caseworker.” I say it a little sheepishly, still half expecting her to laugh in my face. The Department of Child Welfare isn’t exactly well funded, and most of the people in this department have worked here for decades. I’m one of five interns right now, and the others go to way better colleges than I do.

Faith doesn’t laugh, though. On the contrary, she leans back in her swivel chair, regarding me appraisingly. “I think you have a very good shot of that. Full-time positions are hard to come by at first, especially right out of college, but if you can stick it out through a per diem period, you’d be first in line.” She smiles apologetically. “Do you mind me asking what your living situation is? It can be tough living in the city.”

I bite my lip. I haven’t moved in with Asher, notofficially, but I also haven’t spent a single night on the couch since we first slept together a week ago. Even if all I see of him is when I’m crawling into his bed past midnight, bone-tired and starving after racing from my internship to the coffee shop and then to his office to clean before finally dragging my sore feet to his apartment. The whole double-life thing is wearing on me, and I know I need to tell him that last—admittedly huge—piece of the puzzle soon.

“I think I’m going to be moving in with my boyfriend soon,” I admit sheepishly, even though saying it out loud feels like tempting fate. We’re happy, but that could change. As impossibly painful as it is to consider, I could lose him, and it would be no one’s fault but my own.

Faith nods cheerfully, oblivious to my sudden worry. “Well, good work. Keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll put a letter of recommendation in your file that should help a lot come hiring time.” She winks. “Tell Gina in HR that she still owes me that favor.”

Asher is waiting outside the DCW building when I step outside. He’s leaning back on a bench with his hands shoved in his pockets, looking even more handsome than usual in an ironed shirt and the same bow tie he wore the night we met at The Witt.

My heart flips as he stands, strolling toward me with all the confidence of a man whoknowsI’m gone for him. I’ve barely managed a soft hello before he plants a hand on the small of my back and drags my body into his, lips descending on mine in a kiss that makes my head spin.

“Hi,” I say again when we break apart, blinking dazedly up at him. It’s not even five, the sky is still blue, and tonight I am going on my very first date. Ever. I’m also trying not to get ahead of myself—because clearly there are obstacles ahead—but this had better be mylastfirst date.

The corner of Asher’s lips lift into a crooked smile as he steps back to look me up and down. “You’re so beautiful, angel.”

Normally, I’d think he’s being generous, but Idolook pretty good. This morning I went to a discount department store in between classes and panic bought a neat skirt and blouse that was appropriate for my internship and tonight’s date. Before I left the building, I took my hair down from the braided bun I’d worn it in all day, and now it’s perfectly wavy without a hint of frizz. I’m taking it as a good omen.

“You are too. Handsome, I mean.” My hands move to his bow tie, adjusting it as I feel my face split in a smile of my own.

Asher’s smile widens as he pulls me out of the way of a group of tourists who are taking up the better part of the sidewalk. “Are you ready to be romanced within an inch of your life?”

“I’m not sure. Sounds dangerous,” I quip smoothly, lacing my fingers through his. It feels natural now, like we’ve been doing it for years instead of weeks. Something brings me up short, though, and I lift our twined hands, staring at the bandage wrapped around Asher’s right index finger. “What happened?”

He rolls his eyes, letting our hands fall as we set off along the sidewalk. “A five-year-old bit me.”

My jaw drops. “Thathappens?” I squeak, immediately alarmed.

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