The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men 7)

Damn, he couldn’t hide his guilt for shit, the poor guy.

I opened my mouth to...I don’t know, maybe tell him the entire truth, when he suddenly blurted, “I had sex last night.”

Blinking because I seriously hadn’t expected him to say that, I opened my mouth, then shut it before I managed to answer, “O...kay.”

“It’s just...” He waved a hand my way. “You said you wanted to know, so...I’m letting you know.”

Oh, right. I’d forgotten about that conversation. “Well...okay then. Gracias for letting me know.” And before I even knew what I was going to say next, I added, “I had sex last night, too.”

There. We’d both confessed half-truths. It seemed only fitting. But even as I internally cringed, he brightened. “Really?”

I nodded, and his shoulders slumped in relief. “Oh, thank God,” he said. Then he waved a finger between the two of us. “So...we’re okay?”

I shrugged, “Sure. Absolutely.”

Inside, I wailed, No! I was still a big fat liar, and I didn’t deserve a minute of his friendship.

But he looked so happy as he said, “Cool,” I couldn’t tell him then.

And the guilt only grew heavier as I drove home. I really, really, really needed to tell him. Everything.

Last night, I’d gone too far, and now every time I saw him, I was going to want to jump his bones or bawl all over him for lying.

Jodi wasn’t around when I blew inside my apartment, and I really I needed her to talk me out of this because after I took off my Stick’s costume, I dressed as Remy—girl Remy—and I drove to Asher’s apartment...as a girl.

His bike wasn’t in the alley when I showed up, so I kept driving. But a few blocks later, I cursed my lack of courage and pulled to the side of the road. I walked back to the opening of his alley, keeping my face down against the cold blowing wind and practicing everything I was going to say when he made it home.

A full, honest confession; that was what I’d do.

I couldn’t fix what I’d done. A lo hecho, pecho. What was done was done. But I could make it right from here on out. Más vale tarde que nunca. Better late than never, huh?

I’d just entered the alley, hugging myself when the familiar rumble of his motorcycle entered from the opposite end. We made it to his front door at about the same time. He killed the engine and leapt off his seat as I lifted my face and pushed my hair out of my eyes, encouraging myself to speak to him...in English... in my Sticks voice.

But he spoke first. “Thank God you came back. I just went to your restaurant, but they said you weren’t working today.”

I opened my mouth to tell him no, I had the day off, but he grasped my face and kissed me.

I loved Asher’s lips. I mean, seriously, his mouth killed brain cells. Mine certainly short-circuited until I was leaning against him, clutching his strong arms and opening for him when he sought entrance into my mouth with his tongue.

He groaned and lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Pinning me to the wall next to his door as he fumbled to unlock all the deadbolts, he continued to kiss me until he pressed his forehead to mine to admit, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I woke up alone in bed with nothing but your smell surrounding me.”

Damn it, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him either. I crushed m

y mouth to his.

He got us inside the stairwell of his apartment, but he only made it a few steps down with me in his arms because he almost went tumbling and broke both our necks.

“Shit, sorry.” He set me on my feet a step above him, but I continued to cling to him, kissing his neck and biting skin to memorize every freaking centimeter of his flesh.

“Jesus,” he groaned and pinned me to the wall of the stairwell. I wound my legs back around him, and he humped me a few minutes before we both needed more.

I was able to open his jeans and get a handful of monster cock, but he only cursed when he got to my yoga pants and couldn’t tear them off me as fast as he’d been able to ruck up the skirt of my dress last night.

We made it down a few more steps. Then he said, “Fuck it,” and laid me on the stairs. Grasping my breasts in each hand, he lowered his mouth to my waist and caught a teeth-full of the elastic band of my pants before ripping them down. I kicked my legs to help wiggle out of them, and thank God my panties came down with them, because I wasn’t sure I could afford him tearing every pair I owned off me. And with the hungry mood he was in, they would’ve been snapped in half a second.

He pulled his wallet from his jeans that were sagging around his knees. Then he had a condom in hand. Then he had the condom in place. The next moment, he had the condom in me.

I threw my head back, relishing the hard thrust of him meshing with the soft give of myself. We fit so right together.