Chapter 13

ASHER

I wake up to a throbbing headache and unfamiliar sheets. They feel rough and uncomfortable against my skin as I stretch out my arms and legs in my usual morning routine. They’re nothing like the soft Egyptian cotton sheets my nana gifts me every Christmas without fail.

The room is brighter than it should be, and I can smell bacon cooking, which is odd since I live alone. I roll over and squint my eyes open to see sterile white sheets.

~Am I in one of the hotel rooms?~

I sit up, looking around to confirm that I am indeed in one of the hotel rooms. They all look identical. A massive bed, the same durable gray carpet that’s throughout the building. The walls are dull, painted in a sort of magnolia color, and all the doors are fire-safe with a closing mechanism at the top.

I get out of bed, realizing I’m completely naked.

~I never sleep naked.~

Clearly, I slept with someone last night, but I’ll be damned if I remember who. I figure I’ll find out once I leave the room, and that’s exactly what I do because I can’t stand not knowing who I shared an intimate moment with last night.

I grab a robe from the wardrobe, knowing it will be there because that’s one of the amenities my Dads provide in every room. But I find it amusing that the robe is fluffy pink instead of the usual white.

~Are they trying to offer a different experience now?~

I then crack the door open, taking a peek outside before striding into the room with the confidence of a man who remembers exactly who he brought home last night. I walk through the small hallway and into the open-plan lounge-diner, with the kitchen just off to the side.

~So, not a hotel room, an apartment.~

“And he wakes,” a stunning older woman announces from the stovetop.

I’m taken aback to see her completely naked, except for a white apron matching the bedsheets. Her hair is curly brown, pinned up on top of her head, much like my mama’s, and she’s naturally beautiful despite her age. And her breasts are definitely fake. They’re just too…large.

“My eyes are up here, Asher,” she reprimands.

“I know where your eyes are…”

~Ah, yes. I don’t have a name.~

~Why don’t I have a name?~

“You can’t remember anything from last night. Can you, child?” she asks.

“I’m far from a child,” I retort, skillfully dodging the question.

But that only irritates her. She leaves the kitchen and the pan that’s frying bacon and comes right up to me, slapping my face and scolding me for my disrespectful words.

“Remember what I told you, boy. I am the mistress, and you are a little playboy. Don’t speak to me with such malice again,” she orders.

I raise my eyebrows and ensure my hand doesn’t fly to my face in reaction.

~What the hell did I get myself into last night?~

Her tone is all sorts of wrong. I’ve never had a woman speak to me in such a manner, but then again, do I care if I get to sleep with her again? A time I can remember, at least?

And she smirks as if answering a question she’s secretly asking herself. “Of course…,” I mumble uncertainly.

“Mistress,” she smirks. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Perhaps this will help you remember some of last night.”

She leans in, capturing my mouth in hers—a sweet and sensual kiss from an experienced woman. She knows what she wants, and she isn’t afraid to take it. That’s my kind of girl…

And I lose myself, wrapping my arms around her naked body, pulling her into me by her firm bottom. She’s a mistress by her own admission, and I expect to be scolded, but instead, she chuckles, reaching inside the robe to cup my junk. Forcefully—cupping my junk. I’m not sure any woman has ever dared to touch me so roughly before.

“Anything?” she smirks, turning away from me to leave me feeling empty and cheated.

~I want more.~

“Nothing,” I sigh, following her into the kitchen. There’s a splash of color in here. The backsplash is a nice shade of turquoise. So I guess she actually lives here, considering the only apartments personally decorated are like mine.

“That’s because nothing happened. You merely slept beside me as I watched you breathe.”

“What?!”

“I considered it, believe me… I did. You’re packing quite the impressive package. But your dad would have my head if he found out I slept with you.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I begin, but she interrupts me.

“Trust me, Zach wouldn’t be thrilled.”

“So why am I here in your apartment then?”

“Think of it as me saving you from yourself,” she says with a smirk, piling bacon onto pancakes. I watch as she pours a generous amount of syrup over the top.

“Why are you naked then?” I ask, swiping some syrup from the plate.

“This is my place. Why shouldn’t I be?”

I shrug. Fair point… good question.

She moves to sit by the window, her table just big enough for the two of us, pressed against the glass.

“Saving me?” I ask after I’ve polished off a pancake and three strips of bacon.

“Let’s just say you were playing with fire. The big leagues, so to speak. I doubt you would have enjoyed that particular experience.”

“I might have,” I respond casually. I hate that she assumes I wouldn’t have enjoyed sleeping with someone because they’re into a bit of kink.

She laughs, throwing her head back in amusement. “Just like your old man, huh? Do you like being spanked, then?”

“No,” I retort before she can continue.

“Do you enjoy being fingered, using butt plugs? Maybe a good whipping or flogging. Perhaps a gag for that smart mouth of yours?” she asks, staring me down.

“No, no, no, no, and no,” I reply.

“Didn’t think so. You don’t seem the type. Plain vanilla probably suits you well. But let me tell you, kiddo—you were messing with the big guns. The ones that enjoy making boys like you squirm. And they love to inflict pain on their playthings. Trust me; I saved you from yourself. Be grateful you wake up next to me and that I have the self-control to keep my hands to myself.”

“Well, I was hoping to get laid, so…” I smirk at her, flashing that crooked grin, dimple and all, that seems to make women weak in the knees. I think I picked up that trick from Zach. He must use it on Mom at least a dozen times a day.

“That can still be arranged. Finish your breakfast and be grateful you’re in one piece this morning.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say as I salute her.

As I take her hint and focus on my breakfast, I realize I kind of like this woman sitting across from me.