Chapter Thirteen
Rory
“My sister is out for the night,” Asher said, pushing the door to the apartment open. “It’s her place and pretty much all her stuff. My crap is still in storage in Los Angeles.” He flipped on a light, then gestured. “You get the vibe.”
I chuckled. “I do get the vibe.” Black leather couches, end tables made out of metal and glass, and only minimal decorations, like a few framed photographs and a giant ash tray that looked unused. It was stylish, even if a little bare for my taste.
“You want a drink?” he asked.
“Just water,” Frankie answered.
“I’d take a beer,” I said, “if you have it.”
Asher headed into the kitchen, and I turned to Frankie. Suddenly, what we were doing became much more real.
“I can’t believe we’re actually going through with this,” he said.
“Do you feel good?” I asked him, resting my hand on his bicep. He felt warm to my touch, and a charge of desire shot through my core.
He nodded. “I’m excited.”
We’d had a few occasions to talk about what the whole thing meant to him. A side of Frankie we’d never seen before had opened up when Asher appeared. With me, he was still the same guy, cuddly and submissive and eager to please. And he still got kinky sometimes, indulging some of our shared fantasies.
But with Asher, Frankie became bolder, more dominant. He took control in a way that startled me, almost like those first days after he opened the shop, when a new reserve of confidence had opened up within him.
It was hot.
“Me, too,” I agreed.
Asher returned with the drinks, then took a seat on one of the couches, gesturing for us to do the same.
He looked delectable. He was trying to keep up the cocky act he liked so much, and I could tell from the glint in his eyes that he might still shoot his mouth off at any minute. But from the pink on his cheeks and the way he kept chewing on his puffy lip, I could tell he was nervous, too.
I placed my hands on my knees as I sat and trained my eyes straight on Asher. My cock thickened as he kept my gaze. I remembered when I was first dating Franklin, and I didn’t know all of his kinks yet.
What an endless pleasure it was, discovering them.
Wouldn’t be too hard, I figured, to get Asher talking.
“Now that you have us at your place,” I said evenly, “what do you think is going to happen, Asher?”
Frankie let out a soft growl, and Asher sucked in a fast breath.
Considering we’d already come over, I saw no reason to beat around the bush.
Asher curled his fingers against his black denim pants. I kept him captured in my gaze, holding him steady and feeling the electricity sizzle in the air between us.
“What will you do?” I asked.
Asher licked his lips, then turned his eyes to Frankie. “I think I’m going to do whatever Franklin wants me to do,” he said.
Frankie let out another groan, and I chuckled. “That’s right,” I said. I took a drink of beer, then set the bottle on the coffee table as I rose to my feet. “Good boy.”
Asher’s eyes widened as I stood above him. Frankie rose as well and stood beside me. Beneath us, Asher tightened his hands into fists.
Frankie extended his hand down to Asher, then pulled him to his feet. I stepped behind Asher and reached my hands around to begin unbuttoning his shirt. He trembled under my touch, but when Frankie ran his fingers through his sandy brown locks, his body relaxed again.
“You have been a good boy,” he said, still stroking Asher’s hair. “Even if you have gotten in a little trouble.”
