Exposure (16 page)

I
t was only
after I left that woman’s office that I could think about what it was that she was saying. Okay, what were the two major clues that she gave me? One was that Asher’s siblings names were special in some way, and two was that Asher apparently did have a father in his life.

Why would he lie?

And who cares what his sister and brother’s names were?

I sighed. I had no idea where to start my investigation of Asher’s background. I had a pretty good idea, though, that Googling him would do no good. But that was where I would certainly start.

I got home and got on my computer. The first thing I did was Google the name Anton and Natalia. What I found out was that both of these names were common in Eastern Europe, not so much in America. There were many examples, however, of Natalias and Antons who hailed from places like Greek and Italy.

I pondered that, and looked up the name of Asher. Unlike the other two names, this name was Biblical and had a meaning – happiness. Asher was the son of Jacob and was regarded as a virtuous man amongst his brothers.

Okay. So, his brother and sister had names that were considerably more common in Europe, especially Eastern Europe, while Asher’s name was Biblical and seemed to be much less common in Eastern Europe. Wikipedia indicated that there were many famous men with the name of Asher who were American, including my Asher, and that almost all of the famous Natalias and Antons hailed from places like Russia, Croatia and Romania.

Hmmmmm….what about the surname of Sloane? According to my limited research, that name was common in Scotland and Northern Ireland, and Sloane was the Anglicized version of the Irish and Scottish surname Slaughadhan.

I took a deep breath. Asher Sloane sounded right together. Both of those names were common in English speaking countries, including Australia and America. At any rate, both of those names were not considered to be Eastern European in origin. The names of Anton and Natalia, on the other hand, were distinctly Eastern European.

What did all that mean? I did consider it odd that the names of his sister and brother were so different from his, and that their names apparently did match the last name of Sloane. But so what? Natalia and Anton were both melodic and pretty names, and there probably wasn’t anything more to it than that.

No, that wasn’t right. There was something more to it, otherwise Sophie wouldn’t have emphasized it so much.

I scratched my forehead. Okay, I need to put all of this together with the fact that Asher’s tattoo was in Cyrillic. I thought nothing of this, really, because I had met a lot of people who had different languages tattooed on their bodies. Chinese, Japanese, any number of different languages. Cyrillic did seem to be slightly left of center, but not really.

My head hurt. I had to figure out this puzzle, and then go on to the other puzzle about Asher’s dad. He said that his father wasn’t in his life, ever, yet Sophie told me that was a lie.

Aaaagggh. Why did I let her get under my skin like that? Why did I let myself be manipulated? She had an ax to grind, and she was playing me like a bass violin. Putting doubts into my head so that I would dump Asher and clear the way for her.

I just wish that I didn’t have those doubts anyhow.

I sighed and booted up Google. Googling his name shed no light. I sat there for hours just looking up all things that he had done, and there was nothing that I didn’t already know or suspect. I read tons of articles about his company, trying to glean any clue that I could that would hint that Asher was not as he seemed. There was nothing in these articles that would make me think that he was anything but what I thought he was – a powerful CEO and entrepreneur and a very charitable man. I smiled as I saw pictures of him playing charity basketball games, and saw YouTube videos where he was interviewed about the necessity of spaying and neutering pets. He had numerous and very diverse charities that were geared towards education in Third World countries, providing clean drinking water in these same countries, and many animal charities as well.

The list of charitable contributions went on, and I puffed up my chest with pride for him. It seemed that he really was all about giving back.

And a great number of these charities were geared towards helping people in Russia. Probably the majority of his charitable works were in that country. Which made sense – the people of Russia were struggling and had been for a long time. I also noticed that a great deal of his contracts for clean energy were also with Russia. Again, not a surprise – it was an emerging market, and that was what his company specialized in. Providing clean energy to emerging markets. His company also did a lot of business in China, India, Brazil, South Korea, Indonesia, Turkey, Saudi Arabia and Iran.

Okay, CJ, this is a puzzle. You can figure it out. You’re very smart. Just try to stay focused and be objective. The answer is in there somewhere.

After several hours of Googling him and his company, I knew that I had to take a break. I decided to call Asher and see what he was doing later on.

He answered the phone on the first ring. “CJ, I was just thinking about you. I was going to call you and see if you wanted to come over tonight for dinner. I mean, it’s going to be delivered in, of course, but I’d really like to have you over so we can celebrate your recovery some more.”

I readily agreed. “That sounds awesome. I’d like to go ahead and get there on my own, too, so please don’t send your driver. I’m really practicing, every day, going out on public transportation. It’s becoming less scary for me all the time.”

“Well, okay, but I don’t feel comfortable just yet. You need to not get too ambitious. I don’t want you to backslide. So, please, let me pick you up.”

I started to protest, but thought better of it. “Okay, Asher, you may pick me up. What time?”

“I would say around 6. I’ll see you then.”

“6 it is.”

I got off the phone, feeling excited to see him.

And terrified all at the same time.

A
sher picked
me up right at 6. I met him downstairs, and I was standing on the corner when he rolled up. He got out of the limo and opened the door for me. “I still can’t get over seeing you outside like this,” he said to me. “I’m just so fucking proud of you, you just can’t imagine.”

I smiled. He couldn’t be the evil man that Sophie was making him out to be. He was just so kind and giving. Charitable. Even-tempered. Understanding. There was just nothing that was dark about him at all.

Granted, it did seem weird that he had a name that was common in America, while his siblings had names that were more Eastern European, but so what? I was quite sure this was a common thing.

I got into the limo, and Asher kissed me passionately. “I can’t believe how much you’re on my mind these days,” he said. “As I said before, you’re dangerous for me. I have a multi-national company to run. I need to stay focused, but all I can think about is you.”

I felt tingly when he said that. Sophie’s words and warnings receded into the background as Asher continued to kiss me in the backseat of the limo.

As he put his hand underneath my shirt, he said “I wonder if we can ever make it back to my apartment without devouring each other in the limo first?” He deftly unbuckled and unzipped my jeans, pulled down my panties and put his finger on my clit. “Oh, you’re so fucking wet. I knew you would be. You’ve been thinking about me too, haven’t you, CJ?”

I nodded, and he kissed me again. He took my legs and spread them wide on the seat, pulling off my jeans and underwear completely in one move. There was an urgency to the way that he moved in the car, as if he simply couldn’t wait to be inside of me.

He laid down on top of me, pulling down his pants and sheathing his throbbing cock deftly. While he kissed me deeply and passionately, he thrust himself inside of me. I reared back my head, coming instantly. I was that ready for him. I needed him just as urgently as he needed me, it seemed.

It wasn’t long before Asher groaned and laid down on top of me. His dark hair was beaded with sweat, and he was breathing heavily. “It’s like an addiction,” he said. “A wonderful addiction. Sex with you is just something that I can’t seem to get enough of.”

I smiled as I stroked his hair. “I feel the same way.”

“Well,” he said, as the limo stopped in front of his apartment. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s go upstairs like two normal people and have some chow, huh?”

We both got dressed, and Asher took my hand and led me into his building. The limo always parked in his parking garage, so we went through the garage and rode the elevator all the way up to his penthouse suite.

Since we were the only ones in the elevator at that time, Asher fingered my pussy on the way up. I smiled, and reveled in the feeling of his gentle touch.

“Uh, uh, uh,” I scolded him, wagging my finger. “We need to get through dinner at some point.”

“I know,” he growled. “But there’s just something about you that makes me harder than I’ve ever been in my life.”

We got to his apartment through the elevator, which opened straight into the place. To my surprise and delight, the table was set in an elegant style. Candles were burning, and there was a white tablecloth, with soft music playing in the background. I could smell some kind of delicious food in the kitchen. A bottle of wine was chilling on ice.

“Wow,” I said. “This is some surprise.”

At that, Asher went to pick up a crystal vase full of flowers. “These are for you,” he said. “I know it’s not much, but the beauty of these flowers reminded me of you. I find you so beautiful and sexy, you just can’t imagine.”

Tears flooded my eyes as I took the flowers and looked over the table, which had been so lovingly prepared. “Oh, Asher, I just don’t know what to say. I…you spoil me too much.”

“Nonsense,” he said. “I need to spoil you more. I’ve never in my life wanted to spoil somebody, but now that’s all that I really want to do. Just make you feel special.”

“Oh, I do. I certainly do.”

“Have a seat,” he said, motioning me to the table.

I sat down, as he pulled out my chair. “Thanks. I almost think that I should have dressed for this occasion.”

He smiled. “Jeans and t-shirts represent who you are,” he said. “And I wouldn’t ask you to change. I mean, I know that I wanted you to dress differently when you met my friends, but I needed you to put some realism into the part that you were playing. Now that you’re not playing a part, there’s no need for that ruse any longer.”

He sat down, and poured me some wine and both of us clinked our glasses. “To you,” he said, “and long may your recovery last.”

I took a sip of my wine and closed my eyes. I willed myself to get my doubts out of my mind. I wished that Sophie had never planted those doubts.

But she did. She did, and, try as I might, I couldn’t shake them. I was having such a difficult time trying to process everything. Asher seemed to be such an awesome, sexy guy.

Yet Sophie seemed so insistent that there was much more to him than what met the eye.

Asher brought the food out, and I reveled in it. Everything was delicious, of course. Pasta primavera, garlic bread and salad. All of it divine.

We talked throughout the meal, and everything was going great. He told me about his day – he was in the weeds with getting prepared to give his testimony to Congress the following month, but, other than that, things seemed to be going superbly.

“And what about your day?” he asked. “How are things going with you?”

A deep breath. I couldn’t tell him about my visit to Sophie, that was for sure. “I did research on the Internet, finding some job prospects. I put in a phone call to the tabloid that employed me, and they would like me back. So, that’s an option, but I would rather do something that is just a little bit more respectable. I’m going to scout out the magazines around town. Maybe even try to get an apprenticeship with a fashion photographer.”

“That would be great,” he said. “I know that I can help you out with whatever you need. Whatever contacts you need, I can certainly supply them. You’ll have a job as soon as you want one, I can guarantee you that.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I just can’t believe that you’re so kind to me.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

I nodded. I was going to have to subtly pry some information from him. Something to go on. Something that would make Sophie’s cryptic words make sense.

“So,” I said. “I have to make a confession.”

“What’s that?” he asked me.

“I actually spent the day Googling you. I have to admit that I find you fascinating. All your good works – I just can’t believe how big your heart is.”

“Not a big deal,” he said. “I know about want and hunger. About poverty. Believe me, I know exactly what it feels like not knowing where the next meal is coming from. About not having clean water to drink. About not having hot water or indoor plumbing. I grew up desperately poor. And I swore that, if I made it out of that situation, I would help as many people as possible move out of that situation as well.”

I put my hand on his hand, and I felt tears coming to my eyes. “That’s truly great, Asher. There are really no words for how wonderful it is that you want to help others who were in your same situation.”

“Of course. What kind of a person would I be if I just ignored people who are in poverty, after I experienced the same kind of poverty? And I’m not even talking about being poor, yet being able to get a television set and being able to afford to eat out once in awhile. That’s nothing compared to the way that I grew up.”

I nodded my head and took a deep breath. “And where did you grow up? I don’t think that we’ve ever talked about this yet.”

Asher looked visibly uncomfortable when I asked him this. “Here. In New York City. In a tenement on the Lower East Side.”

“And your sister. Does she still live in the city?”

Asher didn’t meet my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about her,” he said, looking visibly agitated.

I made a mental note to back off.

“I know what you mean,” I said, trying to bring the conversation back to common ground. “I don’t exactly get along with my sister, either. Nor my mom. Because of what happened, they’ve both disowned me.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Asher said. “You made a mistake. And that’s all it was. A mistake. I’m quite sure that neither of them are perfect.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry that they treat you so terribly, CJ, but you can always think of Scarlett as your family.” He paused. “And me. I know that we’ve not known each other that long, but I feel very close to you. Very connected.”

“I feel the same.”

He stroked my cheek, and I closed my eyes. I started to feel like I was getting lost in his touch, despite all my misgivings.

How I wished that I could just continue to feel the way that I did when he touched me. I was feeling as if nothing bad had ever happened to me, and, as long as he was on my side, nothing bad ever would happen.

I purred like a kitten, and briefly forgot what I was trying to get from Asher. He made me forget so much – my past, my pain, my feelings of hopelessness. He also made me forget my misgivings about him, misgivings which were planted by his witch of an ex-girlfriend.

He kissed me, and all was forgotten again. Nothing else mattered, right at that moment, except for his touch. His gentle lips, which were feathering lightly on mine. His soft hand, which was stroking my cheek. These were the only things in my world right at that moment, and that was how I wanted it.

I certainly didn’t want to hear Sophie’s words in my ears anymore. About Asher being dangerous and about how I would feel like a nuclear bomb had exploded once I found out the truth about him.

“Oh, Asher,” I said in between kisses. “I love the person I am when I’m with you. I feel as if I’m not CJ the loser who is responsible for her brother’s death. I feel as if I’m somebody special, and that’s all because of you.”

“Believe it or not, CJ,” he said, “I feel that I love the person that I am around you, too. I know that you think that I have so much, and I do. But you make me want to be a better man. As crazy as that sounds, that’s how I feel.”

He picked me up and carried me into his bedroom. He laid me down on the bed and covered me with kisses. We were like that for a long time – just laying on top of the bed, kissing with our clothes on. It was almost chaste, because his hands didn’t roam to any sexual parts of my body during this time. He stroked my cheek, and ran his hands through my hair. He playfully lifted up my shirt and ran his hand on my stomach.

Of course, it soon got more heated, as he removed my shirt and bra and tongued my breasts while I groaned. I started to think that I would never not crave his touch. Never not feel absolutely mesmerized by and drawn to this complex and beautiful man.

By the time both of us were completely naked, I was more than ready for him. He slowly and deliberately made sensuous love to me for a long time. He looked into my eyes as he came, and they were two pools of love. That was the only way that I could describe them, really. I saw depths in them that I never thought that I could.

I wrapped my legs around him and groaned.

I was truly lost, like I had never felt before. Never even come close to feeling this lost before.

And I had no idea if I could ever find my way back.