Landlady: A New Adult Romance (Northbridge Nights Book 1) (5 page)

“Still think you didn't need help?” Asher asked when we were all
done. He wiped sweat from his forehead and ambled into the kitchen,
filling two glasses with cold, filtered tap water.

He handed a glass to me, and I downed it all in one gulp. “Thanks.
You didn't have to help.”

Asher shot me a wicked grin and wiggled his eyebrows. “I had an
ulterior motive.”

I arched my brows. “Oh? What's that?”

“I need a favor.”

“Do I have the option of saying no?”

Asher put down his glass. “You can always say no to me... But I'd
prefer if you said yes.”

“What do you need?”

“My dad wants to meet you tomorrow. At this charity benefit. He
attends one every year at the Harvard Club.”

My mouth felt dry even though I'd just downed a glass of water.
“W-Why does he want to meet
me
?”
How
did he even
know about me?
I thought.

“I mentioned you were moving in this weekend. He was curious about
my new...landlady.”

“Why? It's not like we're seeing each other or anything.”

Asher shrugged. “Will you come?”

I
was
free tomorrow, but I wanted to see Asher beg for it.

“What's in it for me?” I smirked.

“Free food and open bar. We can make fun of rich snobs and sneak
out early.”

“You're one of them. Can I make fun of you?” I asked.

“I'm not a snob,” Asher said. “And there's nothing about me you
can make fun of.”

“You just called a bunch of people you haven't even met yet snobs
.
You’re a snob for prejudging strangers.”

Asher looked like he'd been punched in the gut. Mr. Hotshot Lawyer
probably wasn't used to people calling him out on anything. “Touché.
So...will you come?” he asked again. Clearly, he wasn’t going to
give up.

“Do I have to dress up?”

“Nope. Just don't wear anything slutty.”

I jabbed him in the side. “Do I look like I
own
anything
slutty?”

“I don't know you well enough to comment on that.” Asher grinned.

Our verbal sparring spawned more butterflies in my stomach. In fact,
they were repopulating at an alarming rate. I needed a cold shower
stat to banish the warmth spreading through me. Especially the
unwanted tingling between my legs. “I better go unpack.”

“Need help?” Asher offered again.

“Definitely not!” I said. “Especially after last time. I don't
want you snooping around again.”

“Fair enough. I'll be here if you need something.”

“You don't have plans on a Saturday?” I asked.

“I have a date...” Asher said, “with that sexy stack of
paperwork.” He gestured to the mountain of folders on the coffee
table. “I'll probably be up most of the night working on it.”

I briefly felt sorry that he had to work so hard at his job. But at
the same time, I admired his dedication, even if it was bordering on
workaholism.

“Well, I won't keep your date waiting then.” I smiled and reached
for the basement doorknob.

Before I could go downstairs, Asher grabbed my wrist and turned me
around.

I stared straight into his hazel eyes and nearly melted into a
puddle. This lashes were so thick, long and—

Shit-sticks, I was in trouble.

“So is that a yes?”

“Huh?”

“Are you going to come?”

“Come?” I felt a wicked pulsing between my legs. My heart
hammered against my ribs.

“Come with me,” Asher said softly, “to the benefit tomorrow?”

“Oh. Right um. I'll think about it.”

“Let me know by tonight,” Asher said. “The party's at noon
tomorrow.”

I nodded before heading downstairs, taking the steps two at a time. I
was already feeling dizzy thinking about what it'd mean if I showed
up tomorrow to this benefit. It wasn't a date, but I
was
going
to meet the real “Mr. Morgan”. That had to mean something, right?

The basement was very cozy. The floors were insulated with plush
cream carpets and the walls were painted bold colors, just like the
outside of the house. The living room was bright red, the kitchen,
sunshine yellow, and the bedroom, a cheerful lavender. It was also
surprisingly bright. I'd expected it to feel like a dungeon, but
oddly, it already felt like home.

I looked at the pile of boxes in the living room. Time to get to
work, then.

And definitely not think about Asher's dreamy eyes or his sculpted
torso. Or his silky brown hair and how it would feel between my
fingers.

Eight hours later, everything was more or less clean and sorted out.
My sofa, tables, mattress, and all the other big furniture would
arrive Monday morning (movers didn't seem to work on Sundays). They'd
been sitting in a temporary storage unit, and I prayed they were
still relatively clean. All this meant I'd have to sleep in my
sleeping bag. On the ground. For two nights.

That didn't bother me, though. I was used to camping every weekend
with my parents growing up. I might live in the city now, but that
didn't mean I was a delicate pansy. I changed into a white tank-top
and polka-dot PJ pants. Then I rolled out my sleeping bag on the
living room floor. The entire room seemed empty and lonely in the
inky darkness. Like the cavernous belly of some shadowy beast.

I couldn't wait to redecorate and make this place mine. A couple
potted ferns and a few pieces of abstract artwork would really add
some much needed pizzazz.

I suddenly remembered I needed to respond to Asher's invitation.

I shot him a quick text, in case he didn't want to be disturbed by a
call.

SIERRA:
I'll go.

He replied so quickly you'd think he'd been waiting by the phone for
my answer.

ASHER:
Thank you, Sierra. You won't regret it. We'll have fun.

SIERRA:
I can't wait to embarrass you in front of all your
friends.

ASHER:
Not possible. And my friends won't be there.

I glanced at my glow-in-the-dark watch. It was already ten. My
stomach growled, and I realized I hadn't eaten anything since lunch.
It was already late, and most restaurants would be closed. I guessed
I could order pizza.

SIERRA:
You still working?

ASHER:
Halfway done.

He'd been working all day and only finished half of it? Damn, that
was a rough date.

SIERRA:
Want a break?

ASHER:
What did you have in mind? ;)

SIERRA:
Ew. Don't wink at me. I'm ordering pizza for dinner. Want
some?

ASHER:
Only if you come upstairs and eat it with me.

I paused, feeling bubbles of excitement rise in my chest.

SIERRA:
What kind of toppings do you like?

ASHER:
Anything you want. My treat.

SIERRA:
I offered pizza, so my treat. I insist.

ASHER:
Well, in that case, I'll take an XL Hawaiian pizza, hold
the pineapple.

I laughed out loud.

SIERRA:
So you want a ham and cheese pizza?

ASHER:
Pineapples are gross.

SIERRA:
Got it. One XL pizza coming your way.

I put in an online order for an XL Hawaiian without pineapples and a
medium Chicken Arrabbiata for myself. I completed the order with a
side of spicy wings and Coke. The automated email said my order would
arrive in thirty minutes. My stomach complained again, urging me to
fill it. I didn't have any food to bring over (I'd been mooching off
Callista), so I asked Asher if he had any snacks.

ASHER:
Come upstairs if you want to be fed.

Why did his every word have to drip with innuendo? Or was I just
projecting my desires and seeing something that wasn't really there?
Probably the latter. Still, my whining stomach reminded me where my
priorities lay.

SIERRA:
Coming.

The glass door at the top of the stairs was unlocked.

The transparent barrier that separated his life from mine.

I had my own separate entrance downstairs, so I didn't need to ever
go upstairs. Unless, of course, I was invited. Like now.

I cringed a little, thinking about the vow I'd made to stay away from
this smoking hot piece of temptation. Sharing late night pizza with
him was definitely not staying away.
Bad Sierra.

“Come in, have a seat,” Asher said, gesturing to his couch.

I sank into his sofa. It was the softest leather and cushioned me in
all the right places. So much comfier than the carpet downstairs. I
didn't even have chairs to sit on down there.

“What do you want to eat? I have chips, cookies, fruits—”

“—Fruit will be fine.”

“Catch.”

I turned around, and Asher threw a banana at me. I fumbled it, and
the banana landed straight between my legs. Against my crotch. I
blinked rapidly.

Asher let out a belly laugh. “That banana's getting more action
than I ever will.”

I quickly picked up the banana and peeled it. “That's because this
banana knows what it wants and goes for it.”

Egged on by my response, Asher asked, “And what exactly does this
banana want?” His eyes were slightly hooded.

I felt my chest tighten. I was crossing a line, but I said it anyway.
“Right now, it wants to be inside my mouth.”

Asher closed in on me, and I saw something flicker in his pupils. A
hint of something wicked.

I took the banana into my mouth and wrapped my lips around it. Then I
pulled out, slowly licking my lips. “Mr. Banana says my lips
taste—”

Asher was on top of me in seconds.

Before I could even drop the banana, his mouth was against mine, his
tongue eagerly parting the seam of my lips.

“Asher—this—”

“—I don't care.”

I groaned as his hot hands roamed over my stomach and cupped the
undersides of my breasts.

Asher's tongue toyed with mine, flicking and sparring with it before
he withdrew and licked my lips. He placed desperate kisses along my
jawline, all the while squeezing my breasts, molding them against his
palm.

“You've been teasing me long enough,” Asher groaned, tugging at
the hem of my shirt. “I can't stop thinking about you and your hot,
sexy body. You drive me nuts, you know that right?”

A hum escaped my lips as I melted under his hard body. He pushed me
down onto the sofa and climbed on top of me. Pinning me down with his
muscular thighs, he continued to leave a fiery trail of hot kisses
down my neck...collarbone...

God this wasn't happening.

But it was.

And it felt fucking amazing.

I hadn't been kissed like that in months, years even. Maybe
ever.

I gasped as his nose nudged my cleavage, his mouth eager to explore
the creamy globes nestled inside my bra. His hands shifted, gripping
my hips. I could feel his erection digging into my thigh. I wanted
badly to tear off his pants and touch his cock, and my hands made a
move for his belt when—

DING-DONG.

Of course.

Asher pulled away from my cleavage and laughed. “I'll get it.”

He walked towards the front door, hair disheveled. I studied his
sculpted butt as he approached the door and looked through the
peephole. “Get your wallet, Sierra. Pizza boy's here.”

At first, his words didn't even register. All I could see was the
huge tent in his pants.

Then it hit me. Of course. I'd offered to pay.

I thumped downstairs, my heartbeat thudding through my ears.

If the pizza boy hadn't come...I shuddered. How could I let him get
to me so easily? It was only my first night here. I'd come this close
to sleeping with a
stranger.
That wasn't the type of thing
Sierra Maywood did.
Ever.
I snatched my wallet off the kitchen
counter and made my way back upstairs.

I saw Asher holding two pizza boxes, a small carton of wings, and a
two-liter bottle of Coke.

“Where's the guy?” I asked.

“You were too slow, so I paid,” Asher replied.

I folded my arms across my chest. “I said I was buying.”

“Next time, Sierra. You still owe me a nice dinner, remember?”

I was confused until I remembered our conversation about the
utilities.

“I recall telling you I'd write a cheque,” I mused.

“I was hoping you'd reconsider and go out with me instead. I mean,
I did just give you the best kiss you've ever had.” Asher popped
open a pizza box and handed me a slice of Chicken Arrabbiata.

I didn’t bother arguing with his comment. I accepted his offering
and took a bite. My taste buds exploded with joy. Uncle Joey's Pizza
made the best Chicken Arrabbiata around. I ignored Asher's
proposition and said, “Try yours. I asked for extra pineapple.”

Asher's eyes widened a bit before softening again. “You're
adorable, you know that?”

“Is that coming from your brain or your hard-on?” I winked.

Asher smiled. “Both.” He ran the crook of his finger against my
cheek. “Are we going to finish what we started after dinner?”

I yawned and stretched. Then with a straight face, I told him the
truth. “I think you're hot, Asher, I do, but I also think this is a
bad idea. I'm actually glad the pizza came when it did. Or else...
This can't happen again. Especially since I'll be living—”

Asher shut me up again with his lips. When he pulled away, I felt as
if the breath had been knocked out of my lungs. “Tell me you don't
want more.”

“—I...It doesn't work like that.”

“How does it work then, sweetheart? Enlighten me.”

The expression on his face—was he hurt?

I looked up beneath fluttering eyelids and realized he was studying
me intently.

“I—My life's complicated right now. I don't need to make it more
confusing with this—”

“—It doesn't have to be complicated between us. We could just
have fun: no strings attached.”

I didn't like those words: no strings attached. NSA was for people
who couldn't commit; people who shied away from monogamy. Maywoods
were loyal if nothing else.