The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men 7)

The ache in his voice was my undoing.

“Te amo,” I whispered.

He groaned and arched his neck up. I watched the satisfaction cross his face as he closed his eyes and let his mouth fall open as if he were experiencing the ultimate nirvana.

Addicted to his response, I repeated, “Te amo,” as I slid my fingers up his throat before leaning in to kiss his pulse. Digging my heels into the base of his back, I urged him deeper into me and I sucked on a spot directly under his ear. “Te amo más de lo que nunca he amado a otro.”

He had no idea what kind of love words I spilled, but they set him off. Clutching my ass in one hand, he gripped my hair in the other. Then he kissed the shit out of me as he surged, coming with a masculine growl of release.

“Dios,” I gasped before screaming, “¡Oh, Dios mío! Asher...”

I swear he passed out the very moment he finished, because he remained motionless on top of me, his forehead pressed to my shoulder. But then I stroked his back and he stirred.

“Don’t move.” He wrapped his hand around my hip even as he sat up. “I’m just going to get rid of this. Be right back.” He glanced back at me as he stood. “Do you need anything?”

I checked between my legs, and winced. “Yes, please.”

With a nod, he disappeared into the bathroom. I listened to the sink water run and turn off again before he returned to me and handed over a washcloth he’d wetted with warm water.

“Gracias.”

I cleaned myself and he sat beside me, watching with drowsy but intent eyes. With any other guy, that probably would’ve weirded me out. But I don’t know. With Asher, it was different. Intimate. Almost bonding. I wasn’t sure how to explain it.

When I was finished, he took the washcloth from my hand and tossed it across the room toward a laundry basket full of dirty clothes.

“You’ll stay the rest of the night?” he asked, turning back to me.

My resistance was already shot to hell, and I was beyond relieved that he wasn’t shoving me out after he’d gotten what he wanted, so I nodded. “Sí.”

“Good.” He crawled back onto the mattress with me and under the covers, curling himself behind me as he wrapped an arm across my waist. “I like sleeping with you.”

I closed my eyes and told myself this didn’t mean he forgave me. None of the beauty that had just transpired between us meant anything. He was still drunk. He could, and probably would, regret everything in the morning. I shouldn’t get my hopes up.

But as I snuggled back into him, I sighed and began to get sleepy comfortable.

Right before I dropped off, I murmured, “I love you,” in English.

His arm around my waist tightened a fraction, tugging me against him just a little bit firmer.

But he never said it back. And as much as it made the raw ache in me grow, I hadn’t expected him to repeat the sentiment.

I slept in later than I intended to. But it was okay, Asher was still passed out, breathing deeply, next to me. I had plenty of time to sneak out before he woke. Except I wasted a couple seconds gazing at him with utter awe, unable to believe I’d gotten one more night with him.

He was so freaking beautiful.

I loved how his lashes rested with such tranquil serenity against his cheekbones, and his lips just barely parted to let out eac

h even breath. His hair swept crazily across his forehead, dark locks mixing in with blonder highlighted threads, and I couldn’t help myself. I reached out to sweep it gently across his forehead.

And of course, the silken locks called to me, begging for more. So I combed two fingers through a few more pieces. My gaze wandered down over his golden bare shoulders to where white sheets were tucked up under his armpits.

I liked knowing he was a side-sleeper. I was a side-sleeper, too. Maybe in some alternate reality, we could’ve actually side-slept more nights together, spooning throughout our sleep.

But in this reality, he was still pissed at me for being a fucking liar, and he’d only slept with me because he’d been drunk and horny off his ass. And I really needed to get out of here before I woke him and stirred up a whole hornets’ nest of awkward.

I didn’t want to know if he was pissed at me for taking advantage of him in his non-sober state last night. No, I was going to end this on a happy, beautiful note, with him sleeping peacefully and my body all deliciously sore from his recent lovemaking.

Grabbing my clothes as soon as I slid as quietly and easily from the bed as possible, I dressed in the half dark and clutched my shoes to my chest so I could tiptoe toward the stairwell.