Story 1: Ashton and Samantha - Chapter 1

The doorbell rings and I immediately become flustered.  Ashton is here.  My body flushes with the anticipation of seeing him.

I quickly walk to the door and stop in front of the mirror beside it.  My long, thick, dark brown hair is pulled into a ponytail that falls down my back.  My blue eyes are clear and bright with my excitement.  My maeve lipstick sets off my light complexion well and highlights my full lips.  I pull down the tight cream shirt, making sure that my cleavage is on full display and wipe my hands on my jeans.

I know that I seem a bit thirsty, but DAMN I AM.  Ashton James has been the star in nearly all of my sexual fantasies since I was 13 years old.  Now, at 19, I’m going to be spending an entire week alone with him while he interviews for several companies in the area.  My college roommate is helping her family move this week, so he’ll be staying in her room.

Once I check that my appearance is as good as it’s gonna get, I plaster a smile on my face and open the door.

I’m immediately engulfed in his brawny arms and the smell of his cologne.  

“Little Sam!” He cries, picking me up and spinning me around.

I throw my arms around him, throwing my head back and laughing at his antics

Facing him again, a genuine smile lights my face.  I’m still laughing until I see his face.  If I didn’t know better, I’d say that I see desire in his caramel-colored eyes.

I take in his face and his long hair that he’s done in microbraids.  He has the sides pulled back on the top of his head while the rest swing free down his back.  Ashton’s strong jaw is highlighted by a light stubble that I want to feel against my face or my inner thighs.  His mocha colored skin seems to glow in the light and his full mouth smiles at me.

“Not so little anymore.”  My voice is breathy from my laughter and the sudden onslaught of desire coursing through me.

His eyes rake down my face and land on my chest pressed just under his chin.  My top is straining to hold in my full breasts and I swear his breathing hitches.  His eyes shoot up to mine and they seem slightly darker, his stare more intense.  “Definitely not so little anymore.”

If it were anyone else, I would have leaned in and kissed him right then.  But he’s my brother, Matt’s, best friend.  Has been since kindergarten.  His parents are even best friends with mine.  He’s known me since I was two years old.  We’d spent the night at each other’s houses, had snowball fights, watched movies, and went to each other’s parties.  Shit, we’d even seen each other naked!  Granted, I was three, he was six, and we had drawn all over each other with marker.  But it still counts!   

But the summer that he and Matt turned 16, they had gone away to Boy Scout Camp for an entire summer.  When they came back, Ashton was ripped and HOT!  My 13 year old self learned all about masturbation that night.

Since then, our relationship has been a lot about teasing and innuendo, but nothing has ever happened.  Our families, especially Matt, would have a shit fit if it did, so I’ve never pursued anything.

But when he called and asked if he could stay with me for a week while he did some job interviews in New York, I readily agreed.  Almost pushed my roommate out the door when she told me that she was going to help her family move out into the suburbs.

This was the only chance that I would get with Ashton and I wasn’t going to waste it. I just wish I could get out of my own head about it.

I unconsciously lick my lips and his eyes follow the movement.  My face flushes and I stutter out, “A-are we gonna just stand in the doorway all night or are you planning on putting me down and coming in?”

He smirks at me and a mischievous light comes into his eyes.  He throws me over his shoulder, fireman carry style, and grabs his suitcase and suit bag in the other hand.  I squeal out in indignation, my hands going to his toned and muscled back. My head is just above his ass and I have to resist the urge to bite it.

            “Ashton! Put me down!” I squeal. He laughs as he kicks the door closed behind him.

             I kick my feet slightly, until I feel his hand squeezes high up on my thigh. I bite my bottom lip to keep back a moan.

             “Nice place you’ve got here, Sam.” His hand inches slightly higher up my thigh.  He’s just below my ass, his long fingers wrapping around and nearly brushing my core.

              I squirm under his hold, not sure if I want his hand higher or lower. He just squeezes tighter, a light chuckle coming from his mouth. I can’t tell if he’s laughing at my predicament or if he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Possibly both.

I growl at him, “I’d be happy to give you the grand tour if you’d put me down!”

“All in good time, Sam. Now where am I sleeping?  With you?  Here, hold this.”  He hands me his suit bag over his shoulder before pulling his suitcase into the short hallway entrance that led to our living room.

It takes me a second to register what he said before I squeak out, “W-what?!  No.  N-no!  You’re going to stay in Kora’s room!”

“Awwww.  No sleepovers like we used to have?” His voice is obviously teasing me, but I’m glad that he can’t see how red my face is.

“We haven’t had a sleepover since I was seven.  You always said that you were too old to sleep over with a little girl.”  I’m talking nonsense, but I can’t help it.  I’m so flustered by my current position, his hand on my body, and his suggestive words.

“Like you said, not so little anymore.”  His voice is a low rumble in his chest, suggestive and playful at the same time.

I clear my throat and point toward Kora’s door with my foot, realizing that he isn’t going to put me down until he’s damn good and ready.

He laughs and walks down the hall.  “Where’s yours?”

“Right across the hall.”  I put my elbow in the middle of his back and prop my chin on it.  Not much I can do right now.

“Good to know.”  Ashton opens the door, putting his suitcase inside and grabbing his bag from me.  He flips me down to land on the bed.  Would have been a funny trick had I known that he was going to do it.  Instead, I grab him by the shoulders, thinking that we’re falling and pull him with me.

We land with me on my back on the bed, my hands gripping his shoulders and pulling him to me.  His arms cage me in, propping his upper body slightly above mine.  The rest of him is flush against me, his face mere centimeters away.  I can smell his minty breath and spicy aftershave.  

We stare at each other for a moment, neither of us moving.

He leans down and I think that he’s going to kiss me.  Instead, he rubs his cheek against mine before whispering into my ear, “If you wanted to get me in bed, Sam, you should have taken me up on the sleepover.”

I shiver at the feeling of his breath running over my skin before mentally shaking myself.  I smack his shoulder and push him off me.  “You scared me, asshole.  I wasn’t ready to be thrown onto the bed.”

He lets me push him back, putting space between us, but not getting completely off of me.  “Noted.  Next time, I’ll give you some warning.”

“Fuck off,” I say, pushing myself further up on the bed and out from under him, turning my head away to hide my blush.

By the time I sit up, I have myself under control and turn back to him.  He’s kneeling on the bed, looking away from me and finally taking in Kora’s room.

“What the fuck is this?”  Ashton turns back to me, his eyes comically wide.  “You want me to sleep here?  It feels like I’m sitting inside a bottle of Pepto Bismol!”

I may have forgotten to tell him that Kora likes pink.  A lot.  Her entire room is decorated in a variety of pink shades.  His description is actually pretty apt.  Even the bed is covered in pink, all the way down to the bedskirt.  The entire bed is a fluffy, frothy pink monstrosity.

“Sam, you really can’t expect me to stay here.”  He looks desperate and I can’t help but laugh in his face.

“I’ll give you new bedding.  You don’t have to sleep in all the pink.” I get up and head to my room to grab extra stuff for him.

He follows me, taking off his coat.  I don’t have to look at him to figure out that he’s looking at the walls that I’ve painted with murals and whatever happens to pop into my head at any given time.  

My room is less of a bedroom and more of a studio with a bed and closet full of clothes in the corner.  There are paints, brushes, and easels everywhere.  Different pieces in various stages of completion are scattered around the room, each requiring a different mood, different lighting and surroundings to get their vibe just right.  By the window is the nearly complete picture of a young girl running down a country lane, sunflowers blooming along the sides and the sun shining in her hair.  In a darker corner of the room is the beginning sketch of a nightmare that I had, my fear of failure come to life.  Next to a mini fridge tis a portrait of a young mother and her two small children, obviously homeless and hungry.  A fourth and final completed canvas propped up by the closet is of a socialite removing her makeup after a party, the wear and tear of her life showing up in her eyes as she strips off her outer defenses.

Ashton spends several minutes in front of each canvas, taking in my work.  I usually don’t let people see my stuff, not even my family, before it’s complete.  Sometimes not even then.  The only two people that have seen nearly everything that I’ve ever done are Ashton and my mentor professor.  It just feels too exposing, too raw, to show everyone exactly how I feel.

“Fuck, Sam.  You’ve really come far in your shading and perspective.  This one,” he gestures to the socialite’s destruction, “this is amazing!”

“Shut up, Ash.  You’re just being nice.  I don’t even think I’m going to turn that one in.”  I blush, hiding it in the comforter that I’ve pulled from the top shelf of my closet.

Ashton comes over, taking the comforter from my hands before pulling my chin up to look at him.  “I’m not blowing smoke.  You have real talent.  Take the compliment.”

If possible, I blush harder.  “Thanks, Ash.”

He strokes my cheek with his thumb before taking the other blankets from my hands.  “Yellow!  A nice, manly color.”

“It’ll bring out the warmer tones in your skin,” I say without thinking.

He makes a sound somewhere between an “oh” and a surprised grunt, causing my eyes to fly to his as I realize what I just said.  “I - I - I just mean that as an artist, that’s something that just naturally comes to mind.”

“Of course, something an artist would naturally think of,” he says with a chuckle.  Walking out of the room, he continues talking to me.  “So…what are the plans for tonight?” 

Mentally facepalming, I call back to him, “I thought I’d leave that up to you.  You’ve been traveling all day, so I didn’t know if you would want to go out for dinner and some fun or if you would want to stay home.  I could cook and we can watch a movie.  Up to you.”

I finally have gathered myself enough to walk out of my room and head towards Kora’s to help him change the bedding.

“When’d you learn to cook?” he asks, tossing me one side of the fitted sheet.

“When I realized how crappy the food was at school and that takeout in New York is expensive as hell,” I laugh.

He nods in acknowledgment of what I’ve said.  “How is NYU, by the way?”

“Great!  I love my classes this year, now that I’m mostly done with gen eds and my professors are awesome, especially my mentor teacher.  I’ve made some good friends and I’ve even found some volunteer opportunities that have helped me with finding subject matter for my art.”  We finish with the fitted sheet and I start changing the pillow cases while Ashton puts on the flat sheet and comforter.

“I knew you’d do well here.  You weren’t meant for the fields of Ohio.  You needed the city, the social causes and variety of a place like this.”  Ashton’s voice seems wistful, but when I look at his face, he’s all smiles.

“And you?  Finally ready to step out of your comfort zone?  How many interviews do you have lined up this week?” I ask, turning the spotlight away from me, a place I’m never comfortable being.

“Four.  I’m glad that you let me come on Friday so that I could get the lay of the land and figure out where all I need to go this week.  Plus, we get some time to catch up.  I haven’t seen you in almost a year!  You didn’t even come home for Christmas!”  He looks at me with a fake glare, grabbing the pillows from my hands and tossing them onto the bed.

“The parental units wanted to see the Rockettes.  There wasn’t really any point, especially since I took that extra course.” I reply defensively.  

“Yeah, yeah.  Now that you live in the big city, you’ve forgotten about the little people that you’ve left behind.”  His lips curve in a smile, but there is something I don’t understand in his eyes.  Almost like he’s afraid that I would really leave him.

“Oh, Ash.”  I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug.  “I could never forget about you.”

Ashton chuckles affectionately as he pulls me closer to him, hugging me back.

When we pull away, I reach a hand up and pat his cheek twice.  “Who could ever forget such a pain in the ass?”  I quickly run out of the room before he can respond.

“You little shit!” he cries.

I squeal and run into the living room, him thundering after me.