Change of Heart: One

A word from Pandora:

First, let me say that I know what is about to happen is wrong. I know that I shouldn't do it, but I'm going to anyway, because I'm a bitch. Second, don't judge my story before you know all the details.

~The Beginning~

"We can't be doing this Asher," I whisper halfheartedly in to his smooth neck, but I keep my hands tucked into the waistband of his green boxers. He groans and twists his fingers deeper into my bronze curls. I can feel him pressing closer against me and I resist the urge to run my fingertips across the giant bulge in his pants.

"Why not?" Asher asks angrily. I pause for a second and pull back to stare at him. Earnest confusion is etched across his features. He really doesn't think this is wrong? How many others has he done this to? I push away my jealous thoughts before they consume me and I pull him back in for a feverish kiss, showing him why he's with me in the first place. I shake my head, mainly to free my mind, but it causes him to step back to avoid getting whipped by my crazy hair.

"It's wrong," I finally say, "What if she finds out?" He shrugs nonchalantly, his face hardening. His eyes, a clear bright blue, crystallize and his lips flatten into a thin line. I want to take back everything I said, just hit rewind and swallow all my words. "Then she finds out," Asher exclaims. Honestly, I'm surprised at the lack of emotion in his voice. This is the same boy who has kissed me passionately and held my body so tenderly, as if I was fragile glass that would break if handled roughly. A heavy dose of emotion washes through, adding a fresh wave of guilt with the tide of anger.

"That's my sister, Asher," I state dully. Now, I decide to consider my sister's feelings. I could've smacked myself in the forehead. Asher raises his eyebrows quizzically and steps back, holding his hands up in surrender. "Woah," he mutters, shoving his tan hands in his jean pockets, "I won't touch you again until you ask."

Despite knowing that I am probably going to be the one hurt, I can't stop the desire that unfurls in my stomach as he stares at me. Very slowly, he bites his bottom lip and my insides melt. The anger from earlier is washed away. Just like that, gone. I rub my hands against my shorts.

"Touch me," I whisper softly. His calm facade vanishes, his baby blues darkening. Asher pushes off the wall he was reclining on and moves towards me. I stand perfectly still, willing him to make the first move. "What did you say?" He asks incredulously. God, he's making this a big deal. My face flushes and I will myself not to stutter. I take a deep breath.

"I want you to touch me," I whisper again, my voice super high and tight. I watch as he wars with himself, trying to decide if it's right. I figure I should help him decide. "I need you," I beg. My arousal is evident; my breasts swelling tightly against the lining of my bra. They just want to be free. He decides and walks over to me quickly. Embarrassingly, tears spring to my eyes when his lips press against mine. His hands sneak under my shirt and unclasp my bra, slinking them both over my head. I breath a sigh of relief as Asher trails soft, deliciously warm kisses along my jaw. I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't hear the front door close.

"Pandora, where are you?" Serah, my sister, calls from the next room. Dizzily, I realize her voice is getting closer as she moves closer to the laundry room, where Asher and I are currently holed up in. I push him away; he groans and nuzzles closer to me. Shoving him away again, I yell back to Serah.

"I'm in the laundry room, Serah." I get up and drag Asher to the back door. He looks at me questioningly. "If she catches you here without her, she'll know something is up," I hiss. He nods, leans past me to pick my bra off the floor and shoves it in his back pocket. I look at him like he's an idiot. He mumbles something about a souvenir. I laugh tartly and shut the door in his face.

Running my fingers through my hair, I try to get the mused, makeout tangles out. Asher's never very careful when it comes to cleaning up evidence. I don't realize how cold it is without Asher until I walk out of the laundry room, quietly shutting the white door behind me. My nipples peak through my thin blue tank-top. I forgot Asher took my bra. How embarrassing. Sighing, I cross my arms over them and call out to Serah again. I just hope she can't see the lies and betrayal splayed across my face.