“So why did you?” her father asks.
“For a lot of reasons,” I say, tucking my pseudo drunk girl under my arm. I walk to the door and Timothy calls out for me again. I turn around just as I’m putting on my mask.
“I’ll forever be in your debt if you keep her safe.”
“No debts. I’m tired of debts. I will marry your daughter though.”
“We will see,” he grunts, not too sure if he likes the idea of her marrying me just yet.
That’s alright.
He’ll have to get over it.
Fifteen
Heather
Asher opens the door to the penthouse suite, and I toss the shoes on the floor and groan when I see the bed. My feet are killing me, my head is pounding, and I’m suddenly exhausted. I sit up on my elbows, watching Asher strip off the cuff links, then shed the jacket. He doesn’t bother hanging the expensive material. He drops it on the floor and starts unbuttoning his shirt. His hair drops in his face and he licks his lips to wet them.
Every move he makes is sensual, at ease, smooth, and confident. I don’t know how he does it. I don’t know if it is something learned or something he was born with, but I’m entranced. I never want to rip my eyes away from him.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” he asks, wiping he cheek like he did the morning we spent together at the Cliff House.
I chuckle. “No, I’m just admiring.”
“Should have told me. I would have flexed more,” he says, slowly stripping off his shirt and making every muscle tense with every bend his body takes. His mask gets caught on it and it gets taken off with it, showing his beautiful face. People think he is so superficial, but his skin is just the outer shell of what makes him as unique as he is.
“You’re ridiculous.”
He pours us a glass of water each and hands the crystal to me as I look out the window to the see the city of Petaluma. I take a sip of cold, filtered water, and glance around the room. It’s gorgeous, something only a very rich man can afford. The windows are huge, not floor to ceiling, but give privacy. He turns the fireplace on, and I can feel the warmth seep into my feet.
Asher sits his cup on the mantle and looks out the window, but he isn’t staring at the city lights, he’s too focused on whatever is going on in his mind. I roll out of bed and stand on my aching feet, then make my way over to his side. “Are you okay?” I question.
He blows out a breath and it fogs the window in front of him causing condensation. “I don’t know. I’m tired. It’s hard to believe I’m from this life,” he says. “I hate it, but I can’t hate it too much because it’s how I met you,” he says, gripping the frame of the window and peeking his eyes over his bicep to stare at me. “I can hate the rich all day long, but I have to be thankful. I hate what happened to you, Heather, but digging deep, pushing past the horrific thing that happened to you, you somehow came to me. You somehow found me. It’s hard not to see that as a sign. I know it’s just coincidence, it has to be, but all the bad in this world, all the shit, and all the cruelty, there’s you. This ray of light that brings me hope, something I’ve been missing ever since you left.”
“You’re so emotionally centered for a man, you know,” I tell him as I lean against the window, the cold bristling the hairs on my arm. “It’s surprising, but very much appreciated. You’re beautiful and I don’t mean your face, which we both know is pretty great,” I giggle. I lay my hand on his chest and the drumming beat of his heart is strong. “Here,” I let out a satisfied breath and sigh. “Here is where you matter most.”
It’s where Asher is most overlooked, but not by me. He grabs my hand with his and brings it to his luscious mouth, giving me a soft kiss. I expect him to joke, to say something in return that ruins the moment, but he doesn’t.
He traces my jaw with his finger, then runs it down my neck. I tilt my head back as he glides it across my collarbone. I sigh from his touch. People look at Asher and expect softness everywhere, but he has thick callouses on his palm from hard work.
“You feel so good against me, like heat after being cold all day, that’s what you are.” He never takes his eyes away from his hand on my chest. “Is this okay?” he asks, dipping his fingers lower until he is touching the curve of my right breast.
I gather my hair over my left shoulder and turn
around, giving him my back so he gets the hint to unzip my dress. He gasps and explores my back too before laying a kiss on my spine. I thought I was going to have to tell him that he could undress me since he wasn’t making a move, but slowly, the teeth grind and my breasts are finally being freed from the constraint of how tight the gown is.
When he can’t unzip the dress anymore, he helps me slide it down until it’s a puddle on the floor. I’m left in the slip hugging my body and he pinches the straps on my shoulders and tugs the bodice down too. I step out of the tight material and he tosses it somewhere in the room. “Sunsets and sunrises have nothing on you, baby,” he says, appreciating my body. He doesn’t jump me like I want him to, but instead, he caresses every curve with his hand. From the crook of my neck, to my arms, to the dip of my ribcage, to my hips, down my thighs, achingly working his way up to my ass.
He growls when he squeezes the flesh softly and my inner core throbs and heats from how much he is turning me on from a simple touch.
“Is this okay?” he asks, pulling my panties down my legs.
I wait for the anxiety, the crippling fear, the panic to paralyze me, but it doesn’t happen. It’s because I know I can trust him. My heart, my mind, every inch of who I am, trusts my body with Asher Haven. I couldn’t imagine my first time with anyone else. No one can compare to the softness he gives and so many people don’t take it for the treasure that he is.
“Yes,” I say to him when I feel the air hit my hot, wet sheath.
He spins me around and stands, then takes a step to look me up and down. His blue eyes eat me alive, but the hunger in those irises is not sated. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, and I find myself checking out his body, his abs, his flawless skin.