Torn (The Fosters of New York 3)

He's asleep now. I've studied every line of his face, memorizing it so that when he leaves I'll remember this night for the rest of my life. Maybe Maya was right when she told me that this will be an experience I'll look back fondly on when I'm too old to remember exactly what it felt like to be pressed against his skin or to hear him say my name as he came.

I look past his shoulder to where my camera is resting on a chair. When I first woke up I was tempted to pull myself free from his grasp so I could take a picture of him like this. I never would have showed it to a soul. I would have kept it all to myself but it felt too intrusive.

After watching him hedge his way around his fans, I don't want to be one of those who steals a picture of him just because I can.

I rest my cheek against his, listening to the sound of his breathing, watching his chest as it rises, and then falls.

His mouth curves into a soft smile as his arms pull me tighter. "Are you awake, Falon?"

That voice. It's deep and delicious, the tone muddled by the edges of sleep that are lingering still.

"I'm awake," I whisper against his cheek. "I haven't been awake that long."

"You should have woke me." He licks his bottom lip as his eyes squint open. "Why didn't you?"

I can't tell him the reason. I don't want to sound like a pathetic girl who is already developing feelings for a man she met less than a week ago. I'm not going to toss that burden on him. He must sleep with several women per month, if not per week. I refuse to turn into that girl who begs him to see her again. I won't do that, even though a tiny part of me wants to right now.

I ignore the question. "Are you hungry? I can cut up more fruit or we can order something in."

He pushes my hair back from the side of my face. "I don't want to eat."

I nod. There's no time for that. He probably has a place he needs to be. I'm surprised his phone hasn't been ringing off the hook with people searching for him. Can someone as famous as him just stay the night with a virtual stranger without anyone looking for him?

"Do you have to go?" I sigh, even though I don't want to. "I have a shoot in a couple of hours so I should probably get ready for that."

"Are you kicking me out?" He playfully taps his toes against my leg. "You're not throwing me out, are you? Is that how this works?"

I laugh loudly as I run my hand through my hair. "I need to shower. I look terrible and I have an important client coming in at noon."

"You look beautiful." He pulls himself up until he's resting on his elbow. "You could walk into your studio right now and wow whoever the hell you're meeting at noon."

They're the words of a man well fucked. He's satisfied. I felt it last night in the way he held me after he came. I heard it in his voice when he said my name as he was drifting off to sleep. I made him as happy as he made me. That's all I could ask for. It's more than most women will ever get with him.

"I should get ready." I suddenly feel the urge to get out of bed. "You can shower first if you want."

"Can we shower together?" He grazes his lips across my cheek. "I can wash you; help you come again before I go."

It's so tempting. There's no reason for me to say no, so I don't. "I'd like that."

"What are we waiting for?" He kicks the bedcovers off us both, tugs my hand into his and leads me straight to the washroom.

***

I rest my forehead against the cool tiled wall of the shower. The water is beating on my back. It's warm now, the heat chased away by all the time we've spent in here.

I took him in my mouth first, out of a desperate need to taste him the way he tasted me. His cock was smooth and slick as I took it as far as I could into my throat. He bucked and circled as he fucked my mouth slowly, so slowly that I was afraid he wouldn’t come.

He did. He pulled himself from me, told me to look up and as he fisted his cock I waited for his release. It came like a flood, covering my face, my hair and my tongue. I closed my eyes as I swallowed what I could. It was a gift, a gift he'd given to me in this tiny, cramped shower.

His hands were gentle as he washed me, taking care to plump my nipples until they were aching. I wanted to come too and when his fingers first ran over my pussy I moaned so loud that the sound echoed off the walls.

A kiss quieted me and as his tongue tempted me, his fingers did the same, circling my clit and plunging inside of me until I came so violently that I lost my footing. He was there pulling me into his chest with soft, reassuring words about wanting to touch me again and loving the way I sound.

He left the shower when his phone rang. I felt bereft as I watched the glass door shut behind him but then I rested my head against the wall, breathing deeply, knowing that soon I'll have to get out, get ready and go to work as if my life is exactly the same as it was yesterday.

CHAPTER 22

Asher