Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Asher
“Fuck,” I muttered. There was a marching band playing in my head. I opened my eyes and noticed a glass of water and two tablets on my nightstand. I sat up carefully, grabbed the pain killers and the water, and downed them.
How the hell did I get home last night? The events after Cassie telling us we’d had enough beer were fuzzy. A shower would help. I forced myself to move. My pants pulled around my legs.
Hell. I’d slept in my clothes. I hadn’t done that since college. I started to shake my head, but pain flashed through my brain. Okay, so slow and easy. It took me longer than I expected to get into the bathroom.
I turned on the shower, stripped, and stepped into the enclosure. Warm water cascaded over my body. I ducked my head under the shower, which mercifully, started to clear some of the cobwebs.
By the time I was out of the shower, my headache had begun to ease, and the events of last night were becoming clearer.
Emma.
She’d helped me leave the pub, drove me home, and got me into bed.
It was more than I deserved. I was hammered last night.
That wasn’t like me at all. Was it because all of us had been together for the first time in a while?
Or because I wanted nothing better than to sweep Emma into my arms and kiss her silly, but I had to take it slow.
The mere thought made me smile. Yeah, I’d briefly thought about pulling her into my arms last night and kissing her, but something held me back. Maybe because I knew I’d had too much to drink and it wouldn’t be a good idea.
I walked carefully back into my bedroom and dressed. Food and more water. I made my way down the hallway and stopped when I saw Emma in my kitchen. There was music playing on low volume. The rush from the surprise ratcheted up my headache. I cleared my throat.
Emma turned. “Good morning.”
“Not yet. I’ll let you know after the marching band in my head stops playing. What are you doing here?” My voice was scratchy.
“I felt really bad about leaving you last night in your condition. I hope you don’t mind.
I thought you might need some food this morning.
” She gestured to the pans on the stove.
“There’s water on the table, and I have coffee, if you want it.
” The smell of coffee and bacon registered as soon as she mentioned the coffee.
“I don’t mind.” With any other woman I might have, but not with Emma.
I filed that to ponder later. I glanced at the table.
A pitcher of water and glass sat there. I made a beeline for the table.
I needed that water. I poured a glass and chugged it down.
Nectar of the gods. I poured another one.
Even better. I might survive the consequences of last night.
I turned so I could see her. “You didn’t have to do this.” She seemed completely at ease in the kitchen. That chef had trained her well. She moved effortlessly around as she cooked. There was something pleasurable about having her there. Emma fit in my kitchen as if it had been built for her.
“I wanted to.”
The aromas of bacon and coffee made me realize I actually felt hungry, even as my growling stomach reminded me.
And there it was—embarrassment and more than a dash of guilt. “Sorry about last night.” I shook my head.
Emma looked over her shoulder from where she stood at the stove. “For what? Having too much to drink?”
“That and falling asleep on you.” I’d finally remembered I passed out in her car.
“No worries.” She waved the spatula in the air and turned back to the pans on the stove. “I will say I was glad when you woke up enough to get from the car to your bed. You’re heavy.”
“I’m a man in his prime.” I mentally smacked my forehead. Damned ego.
“I didn’t say you weren’t, but you’re still heavy.” She flipped the bacon out of the pan onto the waiting paper towels. “I’m doing scrambled eggs or would you prefer them some other way.”
“Anything you cook will be fine.” I drank more water. “You mentioned coffee?”
“There sure is.” She spun from the stove, took a mug from the cabinet, poured the coffee, and brought it over to me.
“I didn’t mean for you to serve me.”
“Not a big deal, but only for today. I snooped around to find everything I needed for this feast. I know it was intrusive, and I’m sorry.”
I sipped my coffee and moaned as the rich brew slid down my throat. “You can snoop all you want. If you cook half as good as this coffee is, I’m set.”
Emma laughed and went back to the stove. Within a few minutes, eggs, bacon, and toast were set in front of me on plates I very rarely used. I usually grabbed take-out on my way home from work because I wasn’t much of a cook.
I picked up my fork and took a bite of the eggs. Delicious. Light and fluffy. Bacon crisp and the toast…perfection.
Emma surprised me at every turn. “Where did you learn to cook?”
“Remember? I told you I spent time in the kitchen with the family chef. She taught me very well, and I experimented a lot when I got out on my own.”
I nodded. She had told me that. “Do you like to cook?” There were a few things I could cook, but I preferred not to.
“Sometimes, but it’s hard to cook for one.”
I’d heard people say that something tasted so good, they practically licked the plate. I enjoyed a good meal, but that licking the plate thing never made sense. Until this morning.
“Emma, this was delicious. Thank you.” I stood and picked up my plate, then gestured to her plate. “Are you finished?”
“I am. I can clean up.”
“You cooked. I’ll clean up.” I grabbed her empty plate and carried both to the sink and rinsed them.
Emma picked up our mugs. “More coffee?”
“Yes, please.” I loaded our dirty breakfast plates and utensils into the dishwasher as she refilled the coffee cups.
I’d only brought a few women here, but none fit like Emma did. I was amazed at how comfortable I was with her in my home.
“Let’s sit in the family room,” I said as she walked toward the table.
“Okay.”
I was proud of the family room. It had an L-shaped sectional along with cup holders and several side tables. I watched Emma pull a coaster from the holder and place it on the side table before setting her coffee cup down. I did the same.
We sat at opposite ends of the sectional, but that was okay.
“I hope I didn’t act inappropriately last night.” I didn’t think I had but wanted to be sure.
“You didn’t. Do you drink like that often?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m usually pretty good at cutting myself off.”
“That makes sense. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who loses control often.”
Silence filled the air. Emma picked up her coffee cup and toyed with it. Was she nervous because she’d let herself into my home? She had no reason to be.
Without saying anything, I walked over to her, took the mug from her hands, placed it on the table, and knelt down in front of her. She didn’t look away, didn’t even blink.
“Emma.” I placed my hands on the inside of her knees. A little pressure and they parted. “I want to kiss you again.”
She swallowed as her eyes widened, and her lips parted.
“Would you like me to kiss you?”
She nodded.
“Words, Emma. I need your words.”
“Please kiss me, Asher.”
I pushed between her legs and leaned forward. I brushed my lips over hers. Soft and easy. She parted her lips with a sigh.
That was my clue, and I captured her lips with just enough intensity to show her I wanted her. Her tongue darted out and touched mine then retreated.
Oh, my playful Emma.
I eased my tongue into her mouth and tasted the rich flavor of coffee and Emma. I didn’t know what else to call it. She scooted forward on the sofa, and I lifted my hands up and placed them on her shoulders. Mainly to hold her in place. I didn’t want to move too fast.
Our kiss continued, tongues tasting, dueling, and playing. I pulled back first and gazed down at her serene face.
“More, please,” she whispered.
“Let’s get more comfortable.” I shifted and then rose to my feet. Taking Emma’s hand, I pulled her up, then I reclined on the other end of the sofa and patted my chest. “Will you be comfortable if you straddle me?”
I could see her pondering the question. I wanted us to both be comfortable, but I also didn’t want to loom over her. She needed time to get used to me and what I wanted. This way she could have some control.
“I can do that.” Her voice was soft.
I placed one foot on the floor, and she knelt, bracketing my thighs, one of her arms braced against the back of the sofa, the other against the arm. She lowered herself, and I almost groaned when her breasts brushed against my chest.
Damn, we were both dressed, and I was losing it. How had Emma tied me up in knots so quickly?
I didn’t know the answer to my question. Since she’d walked into Fantasies, Inc. I wanted her. Hell, when I saw her at the party that night, I wanted her, but I was pulled away, and she disappeared. Was that it? Had I built her up in my mind because I couldn’t find her?
No, that didn’t make sense. I shook myself mentally back to the task at hand. I lifted my hand and placed it behind her neck, urging her down. “I won’t break.”
“I know, but…” She bit her lip.
“But what?” Was she thinking she was too heavy for me? “Emma, I can handle you sitting on me.”
“I’m not exactly dainty.”
Fuck. Who messed with her self-esteem? “You’re perfect.” I raised my other arm and curved it around her waist. She finally lowered herself completely.
“You feel delicious against me.”
“I’m not too heavy?”
“You’re not. I don’t know who told you that, but they were a fool.” I applied very gentle pressure to her neck, and she lowered her head.
Our lips met again, and I relaxed. She wasn’t running. She’d kissed me back and accepted what I said. Good. One step at a time. My body wanted more. Hell, my dick had already reacted, but it would have to wait. It was more important that Emma felt comfortable with me.
She broke the kiss, breathing hard, then she buried her face in my chest. “What are we doing?” Her words were muffled.
“Kissing.” I stroked the back of her head, enjoying the feel of her silky hair.
I felt the vibrations of her giggle against my chest. “I know that, silly. But we barely know each other.”
“I think we know more about each other than you think.” I continued to stroke her hair and kissed the top of her head. “I know you’re a hard worker, enjoy your job, must have coffee in the morning, and snack a lot.”
Emma turned her head so that her cheek now rested on my shoulder. My heart warmed. “Food fuels my brain.”
I chuckled. “All those cookies and chips.”
She stiffened against me. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No. I’m laughing with you because I do the same thing. There is something about junk food that fuels us when we’re in the zone.”
Emma relaxed against me once again.
“I think we have a lot in common.”
“Maybe.” Her breath warmed my neck.
“I like having you in my arms.” I kept my tone soft. She was quiet for a minute.
“I like being in your arms. It’s been a long time since I’ve been held like this.”
“That’s a shame.” She deserved to be held and taken care of. I closed my eyes. My protective tendency emerged. I couldn’t help it. I’d watched how my father treated my mother, supportive, encouraging her to do whatever made her happy. I wanted that for Emma. I wanted her to be happy.
“Why haven’t you had someone to hold you?” The direction of this conversation had made Emma uncomfortable. I could feel the tension in her body. I stroked her back as she rested on my chest to try and soothe her.
Tread carefully, Asher. This is one of those make or break moments.
I felt her deep breath. “I have terrible taste in men,” she whispered.
That definitely didn’t fit the image I had of her. “Oh? What makes you say that?”
“Because all the men I’ve been out with were party guys, and I’d rather have a nice dinner and spend the night watching a movie while cuddling.”
“That’s my kind of date.”
“Don’t you all from Fantasies, Inc. meet up every Friday night?”
“We try to. It was something we started doing right after we joined the company, and over the years, it’s become a regular thing.”
“What about Cassie?”
“She usually declined. Mainly, it was just the guys.”
“But she was there last night and the week before.”
“Yes. Since she and Marcus got together, she’s joined our Friday group.”
“What about the other women at Fantasies, Inc.?”
“I’ve never thought about it. We don’t make it a secret we’re at the Whistle Spot.”
“But do you invite other people?”
“I invited you.”
She tilted her head. “Yes, you did.” Emma started to sit up. “And now, I really should get home.”
When she was upright, I took her hands in mine. “Stay.”
Her expression softened. “Don’t tempt me,” she whispered as she pushed against the back of the recliner until she had her balance and placed her other foot on the floor. “I have things to do.”
I nodded and sat up as she got to her feet, then I stood. “Thank you for coming to check on me and feed me breakfast.”
Emma straightened her clothes, a move that seemed more to collect herself since she didn’t look mussed. In fact, she looked perfect, her cheeks pink and one corner of her mouth turned up in a kind of half-smile. “I enjoyed myself.”
I followed her to the front door. She gathered her purse and keys from the table in the foyer.
“I really did like having you here, Emma.” I wanted her to stay, but I also had to respect her time. She slipped on her shoes and then reached for the doorknob. I captured her hand. “Safe drive home.” And kissed the back of her hand.
That half-smile turned into a smile that went all the way to her eyes. “Thanks.”
I let go of her hand and opened the door, then watched her as she walked to her car, got in, and drove off. I missed her already, and that had never happened before with any woman I’d had in my home.
As I lost sight of her car, the ringing of my cell yanked me back into the here and now, and I reluctantly shut the door.