It was the usual bitch of traffic on the F.D.R. Drive to Ash’s apartment on the Upper East Side. Going home after leaving his grandmother’s house and getting his car to drive into the city gave Drew time to think. He’d already made peace with his sister and Mike and let them know he was happy for them. Someone ought to be happy in his family, and since his life was nothing more than work and coming home to collapse in front of a ball game on TV, he wished Rachel the happiness she deserved.
With the radio playing classic rock, and no end to the headlights in front of him in the foreseeable future, he allowed his mind to drift to Ash. Whatever Ash and his grandmother had spoken about affected him, which both surprised and confused Drew. In the brief time they’d spent together, Drew had learned that sharing emotions and personal entanglements wasn’t part of Ash’s makeup. Drew remembered that Peter, supposedly Ash’s best friend, knew only slightly more about the man than Drew did.
Drew got off at the exit nearest to 72nd St. and made his way to Park Avenue. Ash’s apartment was located on 86th St. and Park Avenue, and thankfully there was a parking garage down the block. He told the valet he’d be several hours and handed him the keys in exchange for his ticket. It came as a shock that Ash lived in one of the premier addresses in the city. How the hell did he afford a place like this? These old, prewar apartments ran in the millions of dollars.
An elaborately uniformed doorman greeted him at the front of the apartment building, and Drew entered the beautiful formal lobby decorated with inlaid marble floors and soaring columns. Various sofas and delicate gilt chairs grouped around an indoor arrangement of plants and flowers. A magnificent crystal chandelier hung over the concierge desk, with smaller, yet still-elegant lighting fixtures leading down the hallway to where Drew presumed the elevators were located. His entire apartment could fit into this lobby.
Both he and Rachel had received payment from his parents’ life insurance policies as well as a large, multimillion-dollar settlement from the trucking company, but Drew had invested most of his capital and lived frugally. He didn’t need a lot and preferred to spend his money on supporting his favorite charities. This type of luxury was beyond his comprehension, yet somehow, it didn’t surprise him to find Ash living here. The man was an enigma and had been since the day they’d met. The fact that he’d been a scholarship student and now lived in a multimillion-dollar neighborhood only added to his mystique.
Drew approached the concierge desk—a beautiful slab of granite surrounded by gleaming mahogany. The young man wearing a dark uniform with more discreet gold braiding than the doorman, looked up with a practiced smile. “Good evening, sir. How may I help you?”
Funny, though he might be a successful doctor, Drew felt underdressed and woefully out of place. “Uh, I’m here to see Mr. Davis?” Somehow he hoped he had the wrong address, and he’d find out Ash really lived in a small, cramped apartment like himself.
“Yes, sir. Who may I say is calling?” The young man had the house phone in his hand, an expectant look on his face.
“Um. Tell him it’s Drew.”
Although it was late, after eleven o’clock, people still came and went with regularity through the gilded front doors. The men and women passing by him dressed for the evening in clothing that screamed luxury. Their jewelry winked glints of diamonds and who knew what other treasures. Drew didn’t know much about high fashion, but living with Jackie for the short time they were married had opened his eyes to how expensive a woman’s wardrobe was to put together. With a rueful look, he glanced down at his sneakers, faded jeans, and T-shirt. Perhaps he went too far on the other extreme, but he valued comfort over trend. Maybe Ash dressed so formally to keep up the image he felt he needed to project living here. He’d never seen the man in anything other than a long-sleeved button-down shirt and dress pants, never jeans.
His fashion contemplation was cut short by the young man at the desk. “You can go up, sir. The elevators are down the hallway to your left. Mr. Davis is in apartment 19C.”
After thanking the man, Drew followed his reflection along the mirrored walls of the hallway. He laughed to himself as two women sidled away from him when he stepped inside the elevator, choosing instead to stand by the elevator operator. He wanted to take out his business card and say, See, look. I’m really a doctor. Don’t worry.
They reached the nineteenth floor without incident, and after thanking the young man operating the elevator, he exited into a hushed hallway. Ivory wallpaper inlaid with gold thread covered the walls and the highly polished dark wood floors made no sound beneath his rubber-soled sneakers. Each apartment had a lighted button next to it, with gold apartment letters on the doors.
Nerves buzzing, he pushed the button and heard a soft chime ring within the apartment. After a moment, the door swung open, Ash’s unsmiling face greeting him. The apartment loomed as a void behind him.
“Uh, hey, Ash. Sorry if I woke you—”
“You didn’t.”
The heated intensity in Ash’s crystal-clear eyes unnerved Drew. He so did not want to do this, but he’d promised his grandmother, and he’d never broken a promise to her, so…
“Can I come in? It won’t take long. I promise.”
Without speaking, Ash stepped back and opened the door wide. Drew entered the darkened apartment and gaped. Ash had lit candles, placing them on various tables throughout the apartment, but that didn’t hide the grandeur of the overall space. The expansive entranceway disclosed hallways branching off to other unknown parts of the apartment. Directly in front of him, a large picture window showcased the glittering lights of the city at night. The airy living room, from what he could make out in the dim candlelight, boasted a baby grand piano and an ornate mantel over a fireplace.
“Christ, Ash, this place is amazing.” He glanced over at Ash, who hadn’t said a single word.
“It was Mr. Frank’s. He left it to me in his will.”
That made sense. Jacob Frank had been an extremely wealthy man. He must’ve lived here until his death. For reasons no one had figured out, Frank had taken Ash in and groomed him as his successor. Somewhere along the way, the two of them had grown close, close enough for Jacob Frank, childless and with no other family, to leave Ash everything when he died.
“That was very kind of him. I heard from Peter he was an amazing man.”
Moving across the entranceway, Ash led him into the living room and waved a careless hand at the sofa. Drew spotted a half-empty bottle of vodka and an ice bucket on the table, a full tumbler next to it. After picking up his drink, Ash sat at the far end of the sofa and spoke. “He was the finest human being I’ve ever met.”
There was nothing Drew could say to take away Ash’s pain. The dripping wax hit flame as the candles spit and the firelight danced, casting flickering shadows across Ash’s bleak face.
“Have a drink, Drew, and tell me why you’re here.” Ash sipped his vodka and stared at Drew over the rim of his glass.
“No, thanks, I’m driving. But I do want to talk to you.” The man was a study in contrasts. Drew couldn’t think of a time he hadn’t seen Ash perfectly dressed, every hair in place, looking like he’d stepped out of a men’s fashion magazine.
Tonight, however…well, he looked off-kilter. Though he still had on his clothes from earlier, his white shirt was uncharacteristically wrinkled and unbuttoned lower than he’d ever seen. Dark stubble shadowed along his jaw, and his hair lay unkempt and disheveled. Drew shifted on the sofa. “Look, I know this may sound stupid, but my grandmother was concerned about you, so she asked me to stop by and check up on you.”
“And of course you do everything your nana says.”
Drew’s face flamed. “Fuck you, Davis.”
A tiny smirk hit the corner of Ash’s lips and he set his drink down. “What’s the matter, Doc? The truth hurts?”
The bastard. After all the nice things his grandmother had said about him, how she’d worried about him, this was his response? To act like the snide sarcastic son of a bitch he’d been at their first meeting? How dare he treat her concern as if it were nothing. And to think he’d actually thought they were friends. “What the hell do you know about the truth, huh? No one knows anything about you; you have no friends, no lover.” He stood, ready to leave. “No wonder you’re all alone. No one cares about you. You aren’t worth it.” Even as he spoke, Drew regretted his harsh words—he’d never spoken so cruelly to anyone. But no one had ever gotten under his skin like Ash Davis.
Like a snake uncoiled, Ash jumped off the sofa and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Take that back.”
“What’s the matter, Davis? The truth hurts?” He mimicked Ash’s earlier words and watched the anger flare in those colorless, glittering eyes.
“You fucking bastard. Who are you to say I’m not worth it, that no one cares about me? I have friends. People like me. Don’t you ever say I’m not worth it. I matter, goddamn you. I fucking matter.”
Ash tried to grab on to him, but Drew wrenched away and took off for the door, speaking over his shoulder.
“People don’t like you, Ash; they want to fuck you because you’re beautiful. That’s not liking. That’s not a friendship. How many relationships have you ever had with another man? You’ve never even had a boyfriend or a permanent relationship, have you? Because you have to have a heart. You have to care about someone. How can you value someone else in your life when you don’t even value yourself?”
Ash grabbed him. “Don’t think you can say that and then fucking walk away from me.” He shoved Drew against the wall. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
Ash’s hand tightened on his bicep. It hurt, and Drew pulled away. He didn’t get into physical fights with people; violence never solved any problem. “I thought I was your friend. But now I see I’m not. You don’t know how to be a true friend. You run at the first sign of closeness and make fun of relationships. Relationships require effort, a give-and-take. You don’t know how to give because you’re always the taker.” His breath came out heavy and uneven.
Ash slammed him back into the wall. For the first time, unease rippled through Drew as Ash’s hard body pressed against his. Unease and something dark and sinuous uncoiled in his stomach, but he ignored it and tried to wriggle out of Ash’s unrelenting grip.
“Let go of me. I want to leave.”
Instead of moving away, Ash pushed harder against him. There was no mistaking that thick ridge between the two of them. Drew’s heart raced until he could barely hear Ash through the pounding in his head.
“You said people don’t like me; they only want to fuck me. Then you said I’m a taker.” Before Drew could breathe, Ash grabbed his hands and pinned them above his head, forcing their bodies to press against one another. “But you need to know, Doc, that nobody fucks me. So tell me. You want me to take you?”
Drew thought he might faint when Ash’s lips touched his temple, his warm breath drifting past Drew’s ear. A surge of lust lurched through him as his nighttime fantasy unfolded into reality, there for him to experience if he wanted.
Ash’s voice whispered in his ear. “I want you so fucking much. I’m ready to explode. I don’t know why, and I don’t care. I’ve wanted you for what seems like forever, and tonight I’m not letting you go until I make you mine. And, baby, you will be mine, make no mistake about it.”
With that, Ash buried his face in the curve between Drew’s neck and shoulder, his lips and hot, wet tongue finding Drew’s skin and nipping, licking, and sucking at the flesh. If Ash hadn’t been holding him, for certain Drew would have fallen from the powerful hunger exploding inside him. In all his years of dating women his body had never responded like this. Helpless to move, as Ash had pinned his hands to the wall, Drew wanted to speak, but the electric rush through his blood and the tingling at the base of his cock told him that all too soon he would be ending before he began.
“Uhh.” Drew’s head banged back against the wall, but he hardly registered the pain. “Ash, stop.”
Ash pulled away, his hair in wild disarray, his breath panting, unsteady and heavy. The man looked totally debauched and disreputable, not like the usual in-control, polished executive. Ash swallowed and pulled himself together, raking his hands through his hair, then tugged at the cuffs of his shirt. “What-what’s the matter? You don’t want this?”
Before Drew could answer, Ash’s fingers slid into the palms of Drew’s hands, then up farther to entwine with Drew’s, flat on the wall. They stood, cheek to cheek, hip to hip, their erections resting against one another. Unlike the harshness of only moments before, Ash’s touch now was gentle and soft. Almost caring. Drew’s head spun from the sudden shifts of emotion.
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Drew leaned his head against the wall to gaze up at the ceiling and licked his lips. “All I know is that if you didn’t stop, I was gonna come in my pants.”
“How about you come in my mouth, instead?” Ash cupped Drew’s jaw and rubbed the pad of his thumb over Drew’s lips. “I want you. I want to undress you and touch you, lick you all over. I want you hot, naked, and sweating in my bed so I can know what you’ll smell like on my sheets.”
The words barely registered in the muddled soup of Drew’s brain. His gaze slid over Ash’s face, but instead of Ash’s usual arrogant smirk, the man before Drew could have been a stranger. His silver eyes shone with hope but also uncertainty, an emotion Drew had never seen before on Ash’s usually confident face.
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Drew admitted, then sucked in his breath when Ash’s lips touched the pulsing vein in his neck The room spun, and then the last candle sputtered out, sending them into a veiled, shadowy darkness pierced only by thin streams of pale moonlight from the windows.
“You think too much.” Ash let go of Drew’s other hand and with sure, strong fingers popped open the button tab of Drew’s jeans. “That can get you into trouble, you know.”
Drew didn’t know anything except that he wanted Ash’s hands on him. “I think I’m already in trouble.”
“Tell me to stop, then. I will if you say so, but I don’t think you can. You want this, don’t you, baby? You want me.”
Ash’s voice, with that tantalizing slight, Southern drawl, came as if from a distance. All Drew’s senses concentrated right there at the juncture between his legs where Ash’s fingers pressed, first hard with a firm, sure grasp, then so light his body ached for another touch. Is this what he wanted? Ever since the time he’d caught Ash in the restaurant having sex with the waiter, no woman had piqued his interest or been the subject of his nighttime fantasies.
It had only been Asher Davis.
If Drew allowed himself this night with Ash to experience everything he’d secretly imagined, he’d hopefully get it all out of his system and be ready to return to dating and his regular life. It would be a one-time thing, a curiosity they’d both been dancing around for months. He’d go into it with his eyes wide open, with no expectations, knowing it wasn’t meant to be permanent. Drew was too plain and innocent, his tastes not flashy or sophisticated like Ash’s. He was beer and pizza; Ash—champagne and caviar.
Drew’s mind began to wander until the reality of Ash returned with the touch of his heated breath and wet tongue slipping over Drew’s stomach, poking into his belly button, then lapping at the trail of hair leading into Drew’s yet unzipped jeans. Drew dug his hands into Ash’s hair and wound his fingers around the silky strands to tug him even closer to his body.
“I want it all.” He shocked himself, hardly recognizing his own strangled voice, distorted by desire, need and fear.
Ash stared up at Drew, eyes wide and diamond bright.
“Let’s go to bed, baby.”
And when Ash smiled, Drew knew right then his heart would be broken if this man left him in the end.