The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men 7)

I furrowed my brow, wondering why he kept saying that in answer to my big declaration, until I remembered—oh, yeah—Sticks-me had been the one to tell him te amo meant good job.

I blew out a breath, relieved and yet also disappointed he had no idea what I was really saying. It was just as well he never knew. Maybe this way I could still preserve some of my dignity after he found out the truth and dropped me flat.

But the idea of losing him made tears sprout from my eyes. I wiped at my wet cheek just as he mumbled something and rolled off me, falling heavily onto the mattress beside me. I blinked, stunned as he literally passed out seconds after coming.

“Well, I guess he does sleep,” I announced aloud, a bit disappointed, but also relieved I had a moment to be myself.

Asher didn’t reply, his lips parting as he drew in long drugging breaths.

He looked kind of cute, worn out and expended like that, yet satisfied and content. I reached out and gently took a piece of his hair to brush it across his forehead.

Murmuring sleepily, he said, “Sorry. Can never stay awake after sex.”

I grinned. “It’s okay,” I told him in English, and he was so out of it he wasn’t even aware I was no longer speaking in Spanish.

Taking advantage of the moment, I stroked him all over, every line of his face, his shoulders, each rib, around his belly button. When I came to the mass between his legs, I took care of his condom for him, sure he’d be grateful for the lack of a mess when he woke up. And while I was in the bathroom, disposing of it, I peed and washed my hands, basically freshening myself.

I was still naked when I came out of the bathroom. Clanging from the cage made me glance at Mozart, who was watching me a little bit too alertly.

“Hey, stop staring, you perv.” I slapped my hands over my breasts. Then I decided, “Yeah, you’re definitely a boy squirrel.”

Realizing I wasn’t going to provide him with any more of a peep show, he turned away and scampered off, deeper into his cage away from me.

Then I returned to the bed so I could sit on the edge and watch the insomniac rest deeply. “You really are special,” I told him, reaching out to run my fingers through his hair again. But as I tried to pull away, he grasped my wrist, making me gasp.

Bleary green eyes fluttered open. “Don’t go,” he slurred, tumbling me onto the mattress and right up against him.

Unable to deny such a request, I wiggled a bit to get comfy, and then I let him spoon around me with my ass tucked into his lap and his arm wrapped around my waist. Together, we gave a contented sigh.

I closed my eyes as he stroked his hands idly up and down my hip. But then his fingers moved higher, and he slid them around to cup my breast. When he thumbed my nipple, making it immediately harden, I tensed and didn’t mean to, but I pressed my bottom back into him.

His dick twitched against me. Moisture collected between my legs, and before I knew it, I was panting for more as he rolled me onto my stomach and pushed into me from behind.

The thrust caught me off guard and made me cry

out...in a very good way. He pumped a few more times before hissing a curse and jerking out.

“Shit, sorry. Condom.” I gaped in shock as I glanced back to watch him dive for the spilled box of condoms on the nightstand and roll one on.

He’d felt so good; I hadn’t even remembered. This was scary as much as it was powerful. Whatever was happening between us wasn’t just normal sex; he’d been right about that.

When he pushed back into me from behind again, I was ready this time, but the shock of his dick inside me was still a delicious rush. I pushed back into him and he surged forward. His groan of satisfaction told me he liked my eagerness. Then he gathered a handful of my hair at the base of my neck and kept my head pinned to my pillow while I lifted my ass to give him deeper access. In return, he groaned. I started to come in hard heaving pants.

I blurted out broken Spanish, because for some reason that was the language that came to me when I was in the throes of passion.

But he seemed to know I was blurting out how much I enjoyed this because he muttered “Fuck, yeah,” before slamming into me to release himself.

This time, he actually had the wherewithal to get his condom off and thrown into a nearby trash can before he curled up onto his side and gathered me close to cuddle with him. With a lazy yawn, he mumbled, “Good thing we don’t understand each other and can’t talk after sex, anyway, because you’d get a really shitty conversation out of me if we could.”

I grinned, not minding how I could put his butt to sleep so easily. He needed all the rest he could get.

When he began to breathe heavily behind me, I closed my eyes and rested.

I have no idea how long we slept, curled up together like that. I just knew a phenomenon had taken place because I could never cuddle with a guy for the full night. Five minutes with Fisher, and I’d been squirming away because he’d been too hot and stifling.

With Asher, it felt too nice to move.

But I had to get out of here...unless I wanted to confess everything to him, which I so didn’t. Not right now. Not while his apartment still smelled like sex.