Page 36 of The Rest is History

He shakes his head. His mouth is full so I have to wait for him to finish chewing. Reece doesn’t talk with his mouth full, like we do. Like I’ve tried not to do since meeting him. “That one’s for you,” he says. “I made it myself. First time I ever made a burrito.”

My stomach drops. “For me?”

He nods his answer because his mouth is full again. The old feelings from my childhood burst through the passage of time, instantly taking me back to the times when I wished the kids around town would share their food with me when we played outside. Being given things without having to ask for them is the same as someone coming to save you from drowning. To me, the feeling is the same. He has no clue how much he’s shaken my world. It started with the apple pies weeks earlier. And now this?

“Thank you,” I murmur, setting aside my potato salad.

I sit there for a moment with the burrito in my hand, then, slowly lift it to my mouth. My eyes meet his. He’s staring at me, and I swear to God, inside this one second, all I can think about is how Asher must have fucked him and how much he must have loved it. How he must have begged Asher to fuck him some more, the way I beg Asher now. Then, I think about his dick inside Asher’s mouth and what he might feel like inside mine.

I clear my throat and lower my eyes. He looks away quickly too.

It’s nothing. He’s the person Asher loved so much, so he’s fascinating, in a way. Especially to someone like me because I’m so different from him.

Chapter 15

Reece

It’s wrong. Everything is wrong. I should just leave here. I didn’t come to Asher’s hometown to cause trouble.

But, really, what is going on? Nothing. All of this is happening inside my mind, and I’m in my bed and no one will know. No one will ever know. Nothing is going on.

I’m alone and I’m lonely and I’m sad. Always sad because there is no one left. And Sawyer is nice to me. He tells me when I’ve done a good job. I don’t feel stupid when he’s around. I can ask a question and he’ll teach me over and over even if it’s the tenth time, and I have entirely sexualized his kind gestures and turned them into vile fantasies in the middle of the night.

It’s deplorable. Pathetic. I have no friends. Asher is fifteen minutes away from me but I haven’t seen or spoken to him the entire time I’ve been here, except for the first time. I can’t even talk to him because it’ll be inappropriate.

But his husband . . .

The dildo in my ass is slick with lube and stretching me as I slide it in and out. My lip is caught between my teeth and I’m trying not to make any sounds because if I make any sounds then I’ll have to admit to what is in my head right now.

Asher’s husband.

Asher’s husband’s hand on my cock, jerking me.

Asher’s husband’s mouth on my hole.

Asher’s husband’s cock deep inside me.

Ah, fuck.

Asher’s husband’s mouth on mine while he fucks me.

My blood boils beneath my skin. I can’t breathe. My body is on fire.

More.

Please. More.

I pump the dildo wildly, fucking myself on it while my hand jerks my cock but I can’t do both.

Asher . . .

No. Can’t bring Asher into this.

I pull the dildo out of my ass, pumping my dick.

Asher . . .

I come.

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