“This isAh-sh—Asher,” I stammer, becausesomeonehas a death wish and sent a quick shock straight to my pussy. It’s over just as soon as it began, but I’m afraid the damage has been done.
“Claire, darling, are you okay? You’re acting strangely.”
Before I have a chance to reply—or strike the man standing beside me—Asher steps forward. “Good to see you, Mr. and Mrs. Connelly.”
Dad holds out his hand in greeting. “Please, call us Cliff and Stephanie.”
Asher accepts the invitation with a charming smile. “I’ve heard such wonderful things about the both of you.”
“That’s nice. I’m afraid we haven’t heard much about you.” Mom’s tone is neutral but soft and kind. “It seems our Claire has been too busy this summer to pay much attention to us.” Okay, so that last bit was a little condescending.
Cam and Joey appear beside us and greet my parents. Confident we’re in the clear, I take a step to the side, ready to exit this conversation.
But Asher thwarts my plan, saying, “I’m afraid that would be my fault. I’ve been greedy with Dr. Connelly’s time.” He turns to me and smirks. “But it’s only because she’s so good.”
My parents, thankfully, seem oblivious to the innuendo.
Before he can make it worse, before my brother catches on, Iclap my hands. “Has anyone heard from the newlyweds yet? Should we crack open a bottle of bubbly?”
“Ezra texted. They’re on their way,” Cam confirms while his fiancée flags over a bartender.
We’re at a VIP booth in the back when the newly wedded couple walks in. Millie could win a brightness competition with the sun; she’s shining so incandescently. Joey and I slip out of our seats and rush her, nearly knocking her over in our excitement. Around us, our cozy crowd screams and shouts congratulatory remarks so loudly it makes my ears ring.
I’ve known Ezra since I was in middle school, and I’ve never seen him this proud or this smitten.
“Congrats, old man,” I tease. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks, kid.” He squeezes me tightly but is promptly swept away by his wife’s coworkers.
The second I finish my empty flute, a waiter is by my side with a bottle of champagne.
“How are you doing tonight?” His steel eyes are stunning and the slight gap between his front teeth only adds to his charm. He’s very attractive.
“Hi. Fine, thanks. And you?” I grin, holding my glass out for him.
I have no idea where Asher went. We got separated in the crowd a little while ago. But just as the waiter begins to pour, a vibration jolts through me, starting between my legs and radiating outward, causing my wrist to flinch, and in turn, the liquid to slosh over the side of the glass.
“Sorry,” I squeak, righting myself as best I can when there’s a vibrator going off inside me like an alarm clock.
Rather than walk away after he fills my glass, the attractive man makes small talk. At least I think he does. I can’t comprehend a word. I’m too distracted by the sensation between my thighs.
I’m fighting for my life, gulping back a gasp, but the man is oblivious. I’m about to excuse myself when Asher turns up by my side.
“How’s it going?” he asks much too cheerfully.
I muffle my answer with a mouthful of champagne, the bubbles burning down my throat. The waiter speaks again, and Asher says, “We’re good here,” dismissing him.
After setting down my glass, I straighten my shoulders. “I’m going to dance.”
Doing my best to appear unaffected by the edging he’s putting me through, I strut onto the dance floor, slithering through the sea of people. Joey cheers when I spot her, and together we find a rhythm with the music. I’m swaying my hips to the beat, my hands in the air, reveling in the reaction on Asher’s face, blissed out. That is until my brother and parents join us on the dance floor.
I assumed bringing this fantasy of Asher’s to life would be thrilling and erotic. But clearly, I did not think it through. Sweat forms at my hairline, and while the need for relief is fierce, I absolutely cannot have an orgasm in front of my family. I don’t have time for that much therapy.
“Be right back,” I shout, sprinting through the crowd.
I’m focused on the floor, careful not to step on or trip over anyone, when I smack into a hard body.
Asher wraps his arms around my waist, halting me. “Do you need some help?” His tone is anything but obliging.
