Page 27 of Roped in Chaos
“Did they hurt?”
This man just took myguy eating my pussyvirginity, and I keep thinking about the four silver bars I saw pierced through his dick. They glinted with the spit he let leak over the head and tugged on the skin as he kept pulling on it. I fidget in my seat, suddenly overly aware of how wet I still am.
“Did what hurt?” he asks.
“The piercings.” He smirks and side-eyes me.
“A lot.” He shrugs.
“Well then why did you get them?”
“Well, I enjoy a bit of pain, plus…” He side-eyes me again. “I heard it’s great for the ladies.”
I feel my face heat. and I look down while he chuckles.
“Do you want to try it out?”
After that comment, I have to take an audible breath. I think someone turned the heater on because it’s all of a sudden really hot, and I can’t catch a breath.
“Easy, Princess, I’m joking. Unless you want to.” He adds a wink at the end to prove his point. I sit back and take a couple of breaths before I’m able to face him again. I wouldloveto try it, but obviously not in the truck.
His arm is resting on the center console so I reach out and trace his knuckles. I’m having a hard time not touching him right now. He flips his hand over and moves it closer so I can trace his palm instead. I follow the lines that are unique to him before he grabs my hand with his own. He laces our fingers together and continues to drive on like this is normal. I compare our hands, noticing the significant size difference between the two. Even with the contrast, I feel we fit together. I’ve never held someone’s hand like this. I’ve held hands with Hannah and my dad, but never with a guy that I’ve liked. It’s different, but I like it.
“Earth to Esme?” My hand shakes, and I look over to Asher, and I see him eyeing me. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking.”
“I won’t let anyone hurt you, Esme. Want me to prove it? Open that glovebox.” His thumb rubs over the back of my hand in a soft back and forth motion, adding some extra comfort to the conversation. Leaning forward, I do as he says and open the compartment. On top of old receipts, napkins, and other miscellaneous papers is a gun. I jerk my hand back like the plastic was burning my skin and stare at Asher. He leans forward to close it and looks at me out of the corner of his eye.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
I nod and try to swallow over the lump that’s formed in my throat. I want to believe him. But I also can’t let anything bad happen to him. I care for him. Like, reallyreallycare for him. There’s nothing else to say, so I just give him a slight nod and turn to stare out the window, the motion of his thumb returning.
When the silence starts to linger, he turns up the music. It’s some country music–that’s all he listens to.
“Why do you choose this music?” I laugh. I go to change the station, and he taps at my hand.
“Because this is the good shit. No touchy.” He laughs.
“Whatever you say, Ash.” I listen to his music. It’s kind of catchy. It’s definitely something I could see myself listening to, but I’ll never tell him that.
We pull up to the house, and he jumps out the driver’s side to come around to open my door. He holds his hand out so I can use it as leverage to help myself get out. Once out, I look up at him and smile. He looks so handsome, and I wish there could be something for us. I wrap myself around his middle and hug tight. He returns the favor and rests his chin on top of my head.
“Thank you for tonight…for all of it.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Thank you for being honest with me about everything.”
I break the connection and step back suddenly feeling overwhelmed.
“Well, good night.”
As I leave him standing next to the truck and scurry back to the house, I hear him call from behind me, “Good night, Princess.”
* * *
The next week has gone by in a blink of an eye. We do chores, eat dinner together, he takes me horseback riding, and sneaks kisses every once in a while. We’re out on another ride right now, him on Dom, and I’m on Rooster. It’s getting late, but with the sunset much later, we still have plenty of time before dark. We’re getting ready to head into the wooded area, the same direction we went to the river. Instead of bending right, though, he turns Dom left and goes up a much different path.
“Are we not going to the river?” I ask.
