Dirty. Sexy. Love.[*Complete*]

Chapter Five -- Asher

"That was mayurasana, also known as the peacock. It's one of the more advanced poses. You're balancing with most of your weight supported by your wrist and your core. I almost have it mastered." I was rambling, and what was worse... I knew I was rambling. Pull it together, Asher.

"Oh?"

"Mhm, that means I no longer shake while I hold it." I laughed nervously, and she nodded a little before taking another spoonful of yogurt.

"Well, I'm kicking you out in two hours." Somehow the casual nature of her words actually hurt. I hadn't expected them to but still that biting pain lingered.

"Why?"

"I have a meeting, then kickboxing."

"Can I see you tonight?"

She licked her lips and nodded. "Of course, I need your answer."

"Mind if we share a shower?"

She tilted her head to the side for a moment. "Sure, but I have my meeting at ten."

My heart leaped, and for a second I didn't think I heard her correctly. The fact that something so slight could have such an impact on me gave me a bit of pause. So as she turned and walked down the hall, I didn't follow at first. I stayed standing in the middle of the room until she disappeared into the door down the hall and turned on the water. I did, however, notice that it wasn't the master bathroom.

The tile on the floor and walls were varying shades of warm brown. On the far wall were a pair of basin sinks in dark glass. I couldn't help but wonder if she decorated it herself or hired someone. It might have been an odd thought had her entire house not looked about as lived in as a hotel suite. Was it because of what happened with the record scout?

"Close the door, unless you're a fan of freezing showers," she spoke as she slipped out of her nightgown. I only got a glimpse of her nude body before she disappeared into the walk-in shower.

After shutting the door, I slowly approached the shower, and for some reason I expected her to be waiting for me or watching me. She wasn't. Instead, she stood under the jet, wetting her hair with eyes closed. She looked so peaceful and perfect. I allowed myself to forget briefly that we were practically strangers and let all of those imagines that played through in my head when I wrote 'Where would we be' come to the forefront of my mind again.

How many mornings like this could we have had? Would we have been divorced by now? There was a darker edge to it as well, one that made me not want to get into the large shower stall with her though I'd asked. Would she let me touch her? And if I said what I should have back then, would that asshole have put his hands on her in the first place?

"Are you getting in?" she asked glancing up at me. I nodded and slipped out of my clothes before joining her in the shower. Inside the steam made everything warm and perfectly relaxing.

It almost didn't register that it was the first time I'd seen her completely nude. Mentally I couldn't shake what she'd told me the night before, but at the same time, my body responded as though it didn't know. I felt almost ashamed of how hard I got just from glancing over her body.

A certain degree of frustration simmered under the surface because I knew I couldn't touch her like I wanted. I wasn't allowed to feel her heavy breasts against my palms, or the tremble of her defined stomach under my hand I as I slipped it down to her always wet and ready pussy.

"Show me how you touch yourself." The words almost didn't register, it wasn't that they were quiet, but rather so supremely unexpected. My tongue was suddenly so dry I expected it to stick to my cheeks as my lips parted. Our eyes locked and I made a point to focus on her as I slid my palm down my body taking note to trace over the hard contours of each plane of my abdominals. As I wrapped my hand around my cock, I kept my focus on her, keeping my strokes slow. It was a show for her and not about me. She stared intently for a handful of moments before taking a few steps toward me.