Page 3 of Tiny Precious Secrets (The Brothers of Calloway Creek The Montanas #4)

Allie

I’m early. My Wednesday was light and my last wine tasting tour of the day got cancelled. Which I’m fine with considering I’d been anticipating hopping on the train and meeting Asher in the city since breakfast.

I love my job as the events manager at my parents’ winery. I don’t mind working late nights or weekends even. One day, I’ll own the winery along with my brothers Lucas, Dallas, and Blake. It’s the best job in the world if you ask me.

But that doesn’t mean my panties haven’t been soaked today as I had thoughts of what Asher was going to do to me tonight.

He got to town yesterday. I had a late event, so I couldn’t see him until today. As it turns out, I don’t have to be at work until late morning tomorrow, so I can stay the night.

I love it when I can stay the night and wake up in his arms. More often than not, I have winery obligations, or he has work dinners, or he has to fly home to Bug, or I’d promised to babysit one of my brothers’ kids.

Not today, however. I’ll have sixteen whole hours with him.

I cock my head, wondering when I started counting such things. It reminds me of what he said last time about knowing exactly the number of occasions we’d been together.

Part of me wonders if this is quickly treading into relationship territory.

Hmmm . Would I be okay with that? I’ve had a few things over the years, but nothing I’d call a relationship. Not since Jason.

Then again, Asher has never given me any indication he intends for this to be long term.

Why would he? He probably laughs with his work buddies about how he has it made.

Booty calls in the city whenever he wants.

Zero strings. I wonder if he brags about being with a woman twelve years his junior.

Not that I care about our age difference.

Other than the faint lines on his forehead and around his eyes, and the ever-so-slight-and-sexy beginnings of gray around his temples, he doesn’t seem forty.

“Good afternoon, Miss Montana,” William the doorman greets as he waves me through.

“Please, William, call me Allie.”

It’s funny how all the workers here know me by name despite the fact that I only visit about once a month.

Or fourteen times to be exact. I roll my eyes thinking of his words.

“Sure thing, Miss Montana.”

I giggle as I make my way to the elevator.

Asher texted me his room number earlier.

Texted, not called. That’s another indicator of our relationship status.

We never speak on the phone. We always text.

And I’m fine with that. I guess. Yes, yes, of course I am.

Long-term relationships lead to things I’m not ready for.

Things I’ll never be ready for. Like kids. I’m perfectly fine being the fun aunt.

William comes after me. “Mr. Anderson is at the bar, Miss Montana.”

“Thank you, William.”

“Pleasure.”

It’s only five thirty, and Asher isn’t expecting me until seven.

I stop at the entrance of the bar when I see him talking with a woman.

She throws her head back and laughs. He’s smirking.

I can imagine she asked him what kind of work he does.

He gets his kicks telling people he’s a ‘penetration tester.’

The funny thing is, that’s the actual technical name for what he does.

He’s a dark web hacker. He gets hired to test tech infrastructures for vulnerabilities.

And he’s very good at what he does. He’s high in demand.

Companies from all over the world want to hire the man who single-handedly stopped a virus from draining the bank accounts of billions of people who shopped at the largest online retailer in the world.

That was before I met him. But his reputation runs far and wide.

And despite how much money he’s offered, he never takes overseas jobs.

Not unless he can do them remotely. He has a rule never to leave Bug for more than a week, and never to be more than a six-hour plane ride away.

That pretty much limits him to the continental United States, parts of Mexico, and some of the Caribbean Islands.

I have to admire him for what he’s done.

Not work-wise. That’s all secondary. He’s raised a daughter almost entirely on his own.

Before that, he raised his sister after their parents died.

At one point in his twenties, he was not only raising an infant, but his teenage sister. All by himself. I can’t even imagine.

The beautiful redhead puts a flirty hand on his shoulder, wiping away something I’m sure isn’t even there.

I roll my eyes.

I’m not the jealous type, but seeing him talking with another woman has me wondering. When he’s done with me. With this. When Bug is older and he allows himself to be in a real relationship. Will he marry again?

I can’t see Asher staying single forever. He just has so much to offer. He truly is the entire package. And some woman out there will be lucky to have him when the time comes.

Ignoring the twinge deep inside me, I cough. Asher turns and smiles like he’s five and I’m Santa. He quickly shakes the woman’s hand, pays for his drink, and saunters—yes, saunters —over.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

I nod to the redhead and joke, “I doubt your eyes are sore after looking at Emma Stone over there.”

“Al, if she’s Emma Stone, then you’re Cleopatra.”

It’s strange the way he’s looking at me right now.

I know it’s been a minute since we’ve seen each other, but it’s not like it’s been any longer than before.

Yet the way he takes me in is just… different.

His eyes travel over me slowly, making time stand still.

I did cut a few inches off my hair last week. That must be it.

I push my hand against his chest. “Stop it. You’re ogling me.”

He takes my hand and guides me toward the elevator. “I’m going to be doing a lot more than that in about three and a half minutes.”

I laugh. “What, no dinner first?”

“We’re ordering room service.”

We step into the elevator. And we’re alone. He leans close and inhales. “You’re early. I like surprises.”

“You do, do you?”

I cup the front of his pants. He’s already getting hard. I push him into the corner of the elevator right up against the buttons. An alarm sounds when I reach around him and press the emergency stop. I ignore it and unbuckle his belt, opening his pants just enough.

He says a few choice words as I take him into my mouth and suck him off like I’ve never sucked him off before. In less than a minute, he’s coming down my throat. I swallow, wipe my lips, zip up his pants, and answer the lady who finally comes over the speaker to ask if everything is okay.

“We’re fine,” I say, trying to sound calm and collected. “Some kid was playing with the buttons.”

The elevator starts moving again. Asher is speechless as he finishes buttoning his pants and buckling his belt. I’ve stunned him into silence. I smile at the small victory.

When we reach our floor, we stroll slowly to his hotel room. Once inside, he finally speaks.

“I can’t believe you just blew me in an elevator.”

I shrug. “You said you like surprises.”

He laughs heartily, shaking his head as if still absorbing what just happened. “Jesus Christ, Al.” He laughs again. “You know they have cameras in there. They know you’re full of shit saying what you did about a kid being the culprit.”

I cover my mouth in total embarrassment. “Do you think they saw the whole thing?”

“Probably not. I think the camera was in the panel behind my back. But I take no responsibility if we end up on some porn website.”

“If that happens, I know a guy.” I wink.

Now we’re both laughing. How I love his laugh. How I love the way he makes me laugh.

Before Asher, I honestly can’t remember laughing. Okay, so I’ve been through something traumatic. That would make anyone not want to laugh. But even the man’s texts make me laugh when I’m sitting at my desk all by myself.

“I love your laugh,” I say.

“I love yours.”

His gaze becomes intense. Too intense. Maybe I shouldn’t have said what I said. I quickly follow it up with something I know will change the subject we most definitely should not be talking about. “Know what else I love?”

He waits expectantly.

I untie the drawstring on my dress, kick off my shoes, and pull down my silk panties. “Your tongue. I love your tongue. And I want it on me. Everywhere .”

His eyes both darken and blaze fire all at once. “Do you trust me?”

I pull my dress up and over my head. “That’s a silly question to ask someone who’s standing here naked demanding an orgasm.”

“Al, just answer the question.”

“Yes, I trust you, Mr. President.”

He chuckles. Then he walks to the dresser, sets his phone up on a stand, aims it at the bed and starts a video.

My jaw drops. “You’re recording us?”

“It’s a long time between visits. I’d like to be able to see you when I, you know… need to relieve some stress.”

This is new information. We never talk about whether or not we see other people or scratch the itch in between the times he comes to the city.

“Plus, you should see yourself when you come, Allie. It’s the most spectacular thing I’ve ever witnessed in my whole goddamn life.”

I look from him to the camera. “Okay, fine. But if you get to video me having an orgasm, I get to video you.” I put my phone on the nightstand knowing we’ll have two different vantage points.

His smile is a mile wide.

We spend the next several hours burning up our phone batteries.

They are the most erotic hours of my entire twenty-eight years.