Asher (Ashes & Embers 6)

How the hell is that going to make her feel? Maybe I never should’ve given her the journals. If they’re not bringing back her memories, then it’s gotta be like reading the diary of a woman who’s in love with the man you’re trying to have a relationship with.

Fuck.

I grab my phone and send her a text.

Me: Hey you.

Ember: Hi

Me: Are you okay?

Ember: Are you okay?

We typed the same thing at the exact same time.

No. We’re not okay.

This isn’t us. We don’t do this, whatever the heck this is.

We talk. We bare our souls to each other. We stay together.

We don’t go to separate rooms.

We sure as hell don’t ever stop in the middle of sex.

For years, I was terrified she was going to die. I guarded her like a gargoyle watching over a sacred temple. I begged her to live. If I don’t start treating her like she’s alive, I’m going to lose her.

I toss my phone and dart down the hall to the guest room. She and the dog look up at me simultaneously from where they’re sitting on the floor when I push the door open.

“Ash…” Her eyes are puffy from crying, and it’s like an ice pick to my heart.

I don’t waste a second. I take the journal out of her hand, and she lets out an adorable little yelp as I scoop her up in my arms.

She clings to my shoulders in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you back where you belong.”

She’s light as a feather as I carry her to the master bedroom and lay her on the middle of the bed. Not her side, not my side—but the spot where we meet together. Straddling her body, I yank my shirt off and throw it across the room.

Her tear-stained eyes widen, darting to where I threw my shirt, then back to me. She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. “Um, what’s happening?”

I bend down and kiss her parted lips.

“What shoulda happened before.”

Sitting back, I grab the hem of her shirt and lock eyes with her as I slowly lift it up. Silently, she lifts her arms, and I pull the shirt up over her head. Her eyes stay on mine, shy, but brave. She licks her lips nervously. Her gaze travels longingly down my chest, to my legs straddling her. As her eyes drift back up to mine, she lays her hands on my outer thighs and squeezes.

Her chest lifts with a slow inhale and shaky exhale as I stare down at her bare breasts. Reaching up, I cup her cheek in my palm, and she turns to press her lips against my hand. Her eyes slowly close. Her mouth lingers there, and she breathes in deeply, as if she’s savoring—or remembering.

My heart skips a beat, wondering if she knows she’s done that a thousand times before.

I drag my fingers down the side of her throat, then down to her chest. Slowly, I trace my fingertips around her breasts, between them, then circling them again. I’m entranced with how her skin tightens and puckers beneath my touch. My cock stirs when I cup her breasts in my hands and her nipples harden into my palms.

“You’re beautiful,” I whisper, as I continue to run my hands down her ribs, over her tummy, then back to her breasts. “My love for you has never changed. Not for a fucking second.” I refocus my gaze back on her big, green eyes. “I never stopped kissing you, cuddling you, and touching you. I never, ever, stopped wanting you.”

Sucking in a quick breath, she blinks rapidly, her bottom lip trembling as she smiles with relief. A single tear trickles down her cheek and falls onto the pillow.

“I’ve been afraid to rush you or hurt you. For eight years, I had to make decisions for you, babe. To protect you and care for you and fight for you.”

She nods, and the emotion I see shimmering in her eyes rocks me. Gratitude. Relief. Understanding. Maybe even love.

Her voice is whisper-soft. “You were put in a position no man should ever have to be in. You’re a strong man, Asher. But it’s okay not to be, sometimes. You know that, right?”

“I’m figurin’ it out.”

She leans up on her elbows, closer to me. “I’m scared too. But the one thing I’m sure of is you’d never hurt me. In any way.” She touches the center of my chest, delicately moving her hand up and down in comforting strokes. “You don’t have to treat me like glass.”

Cupping the back of her neck, I pull her in for a long, slow kiss before lowering her back down on the pillow.

“What I’m gonna do is treat you like the queen you are and worship your body like I’ve been fuckin’ dying to.”

Grabbing her hands in mine, I stretch our arms up over her head, and crush my lips onto hers, kissing her hungrily. Our tongues test, entice, and tease.