Wicked Sinner (Dangerous Love 2)

He knew where she was going with this before she even handed him a glass. “I’m not drinking that,” he told her seriously.

“Yeah, you are.” She set the drink down in front of him.

“Care to enlighten me on why I would do that?”

“Because as much as you don’t believe in all this, you have also been cursed.” He frowned as she nudged his glass closer to him. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m not wrong. Are you happy with all aspects of your life?”

He stared into the depths of her eyes, finding the answer all too easy. “No, I’m not entirely happy with every aspect.”

“See.” She picked up her glass to cheers him. “Also cursed. Bottoms up.”

Against his better judgment, and to do and be whatever Remy needed him to be, he grabbed the glass and clanged hers, then he drank the shot back. And coughed like hell.

She wheezed, “I know, curse breakers taste terrible.”

Chapter 5

Remy’s laughter filled the air as she danced her way back into the living room after grabbing herself another glass of her potion. An hour had gone by since they’d cheers their drinks, and they’d already had one more of Remy’s concoction that apparently was similar to homemade moonshine. Born from an alcoholic father, and ensuring not to become him, Asher had a two-drink rule that he never broke. But whatever she put in that drink was the strongest alcohol he’d ever tasted. While Asher knew without a single doubt in his mind that he was the closest he’d been to drunk ever in his life, Remy was most definitely drunk. With the help of the homemade booze that Asher suspected her nana created to explain away getting loaded whenever things got bad, Remy had opened up, reminding Asher of the Remy he once knew. They’d talked about everything over the last hour, almost like they were the same people who once loved each other. Laughed like they used to. And then everything changed, becoming flirty and sensual, jus

t like old times, and Asher knew he was in trouble. He remembered the heat, the passion, and he wanted to taste that again.

Now he couldn’t take his eyes off the way Remy swirled her hips to the Queen song playing through the speakers. Her arms were in the air lifting her shirt just enough to show the creaminess of her skin. He felt the warm hum of the alcohol running through his veins, alongside the desire driving him wild. “You should come sit down,” he told her, noting her glass coffee table was a disaster waiting to happen.

She spun in a little circle and then gave him a smile of pure unadulterated sex. “It always did make you hot watching me dance, didn’t it?” she practically purred.

“You were always a very good dancer.” She’d taken years of dance growing up and she was the type of person who danced freely, loving music. He rose, offering his hand. “Come sit. That shit you made us is guaranteed to make you fall on that table.”

“It’s got Devil Springs vodka and Sunset rum.” She rolled her hips, her eyes darkened with lust. “Apparently, I put in a little too much.” Her lips parted as she caressed her hands slowly down her body. “How about now? Am I still a good dancer?”

He watched the slide of her hands until they moved into her hair and she flicked the gorgeous strands teasingly. Feeling tense, and hot, so damn hot, he cleared his throat. “You know you’re incredible at most things you do.”

She smiled playfully back. “You’re right, I do.” Cocking her head just enough to let her hair fall beautifully across her cheek, she nibbled her lip.

Jesus Christ.

“We both need coffee.” Hot and growing harder as the seconds passed, he nearly tripped over Salem, who again hissed at him and then ran away as Asher took a step toward the kitchen.

“I know exactly what I need.” She suddenly leaped into his arms. He stumbled back before quickly righting himself and held her tight. “And it ain’t coffee.” Then her lips crushed again his.

For a second—the tiniest little second—he nearly broke away. Until she gave a soft moan. Every touch and every second of pleasure filled his mind again, and he hadn’t realized how much he missed kissing her until her tongue dipped into his mouth. With an arm around her waist, keeping her close, he took control of the kiss. He fisted his other hand in her hair and spun her around until her back pressed against the wall. She moaned and he devoured every sound she made with his kiss.

When she reached for his shirt, lifting it up, somewhere in his brain, reality kicked in. He broke away, breathless. “Fuck, we can’t do this.”

“Sure we can,” she said, pushing on his chest until he was walking backward. “If I recall, you used to excel in this department. I can only imagine you’ve gotten better these past ten years.”

“Remy,” he said firmly, but a push sent him down on the couch.

“Asher.” She climbed onto his lap, sliding her hands up biceps flexing beneath her touch. “I know you want me.” She brought her heat tight against his erection, threading her fingers into his hair. “I can feel it.” She ground against him and her fingernails dragged against his scalp. “I can see it in how you watch me sometimes.”

He slid his hands to her sweet ass. A low sound came from deep in his chest, finally feeling her. “I do want you,” he told her. She lowered her mouth closer to his, and he quickly added, “But you’re drunk, and I’m pretty damn close to it.”

She laughed softly, looking a lot like the woman he once loved. “I’m not that drunk. I’m just happy. I also totally know what I’m doing.”

Her mouth got closer.

“You’re going to regret this tomorrow,” he told her, squeezing his hands onto her hips, holding her still.

“Am not,” she rebuked, then kissed him. Hard.