Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
He’d restrained himself for years, so why the hell did a ten-minute ride in the back of an Uber feel like hell on fucking earth?
His gaze skated down her long legs to her red heels, and when his eyes settled back on her face, he saw what he was feeling in her blue irises—years and years of pent-up lust.
She kept quiet, though, her lip between her teeth.
This wouldn’t be their first rodeo. But after six years, it sure as hell felt like it.
His cock was so hard it bulged through his pants, and now that he caught her eye-fucking it, his entire body grew tenser than he’d thought possible.
“We’re here,” the driver said, interrupting thoughts of what he planned to do to her.
Years of fantasies would be coming true.
Was she ready after what had happened to her, though? And was he prepared for what he knew would happen after their time between the sheets? Because it would happen, wouldn’t it? She’d close herself off to him. It was inevitable.
He needed to get rid of the doubt trying to infiltrate his defenses. To hell with the consequences.
“You’re having second thoughts?” she asked a few minutes later when they stepped inside the elevator.
His hands transformed to fists at his sides as he tried to curtail his desire to take her into his arms and fuck her against the wall right then and there. He’d already come close at the club.
His body was strung so damn tight.
When he was in the cage and about to fight, the adrenaline would burst through his veins, and he’d always feel such an incredible rush.
That rush had nothing on this moment.
A moment he was minutes away from having.
But . . . damn it. Doubt settled inside him again like a frustrating checkmate. “Are you sure?”
She stepped in front of him, eliminating the last bit of distance between them. His heart was fast beneath her palm now resting on his chest. “Don’t second-guess this, okay? Not tonight.” A blonde brow arched.
And he couldn’t resist.
He lowered his head, captured her bottom lip, and sucked it. Cherry-flavored gloss. Of course, Cherry.
“Eh-hem.”
He hadn’t even heard the doors part, but when Jessica staggered back to face whoever was standing outside the elevator, he spotted an old woman with a dog clutched beneath her armpit.
“Oh. Hi, Mrs. Jacobs.” Jessica’s cheeks bloomed as red as her heels. He’d never taken her as one to get embarrassed, but maybe they were in uncharted territory. He was about to go to her place to have mind-blowing sex, after all.
“Why is your hair black?” the woman asked. Her gaze moved straight to Asher’s tented pants, and it had him dropping his arms in front of him. He didn’t want to give her a heart attack.
“Valentine’s Day costume party.” She stole a glimpse at Asher from over her shoulder and motioned toward the open doors with a slight tilt of the head.
“Have a good night,” she told Mrs. Jacobs, and they maneuvered out of the elevator and down the hall as if they had to get cover from a sniper on overwatch.
“Talk about timing,” she said with a laugh while digging into her purse.
He wrapped a hand over her shoulder as she fidgeted with her key in the knob, and he brought his nose to the back of her head where her long black wig rested in soft waves atop her wool coat. He shifted the locks to the side with his free hand and brought his mouth near her ear.
At the sound of her groan, he dropped his hand to her hip and pulled her tight against him, his hard length pressing into her.
“You want to take me in the hall, huh?” she breathed over her shoulder.
“I want you everywhere,” he answered, maybe more honestly than he’d intended. But hell, after three years of back-and-forth, he just wanted to strip away the lies and deliver the truth.
“Mm, me, too.” Her voice was like silk gliding over his skin, and it had his balls tightening.
She pressed the door inward a moment later, and she pivoted to face him. “I’m going to get naked now.” She walked backward into her apartment with her eyes on him.
He lost her gaze only for a second to shut and lock the door.
Her purse hit the floor. Jacket next.
She removed her black wig and then her hairpins, unleashing her mass of blonde hair.
He groaned as he watched her, doing his best not to charge at her like the beast he was.
She reached for the zipper at the front of her dress and slowly lowered it and revealed a strapless black bra that barely contained the swell of her flesh.
He kicked off his boots and swallowed as she shimmied out of the dress and toed it out of her way.
Black bra. A black lacey thong. And red heels.
A vision.
And all his tonight.
“Keep the rest on,” he said like a rough command, like he’d swallowed sandpaper.
He removed his jacket and shirt and watched as her gaze dropped to his chest.
“You’re stunning.” He practically breathed the words as he unbuckled his belt and removed everything but his boxers.
“How much do you want me?” Her long lashes lifted, and her blue eyes stole his breath.
“More than you can possibly know.” In two steps, he closed the distance between them and lifted her into his arms.
She arched forward, pressing her body tight to his, and held onto him as he peered into her eyes, never wanting to forget the moment. Because knowing Jessica, tomorrow she’d . . .
But he didn’t want to think about tomorrow. Not now.
“Fuck me,” she said as her eyes dropped to his mouth. “Really, really hard.”
“You’re going to kill me, woman.” He brushed his lips over hers. Soft at first, but when their tongues met, he couldn’t hang onto the fine thread of control anymore.
He set her atop the desk, which was up against the living room wall, and she kept her ankles hooked around him, hands now atop his shoulders. “What are you doing?”
“I’m hungry,” he growled out as he ran his finger along her slit over the top of her black lace.
She jerked forward, nearly scooting off the edge.
He arched a brow as he shifted her panties and touched her clit. “You’re so wet for me. Aren’t you, Peaches?” He gently slid his finger up and down in one stroke before stealing his touch from her.
She groaned. “Ugh. I hate you.”
“I know you do.” He nipped at her plump, pouty bottom lip.
She started to reach in the direction of his boxers, but he captured both her wrists and slung her arms up and around his neck. “Not yet. You’ve been torturing me for years.” His thighs pressed to the mahogany, and she shifted even closer to him.
He lowered his eyes to her bra, and with each hard and heavy breath she took, her breasts nearly lifted out of it.
As much as he wanted to tear every strip of material off of her, to have her buck naked and quivering beneath him, he needed this to last.
He’d waited too long to rush this night, and he didn’t know if it’d happen again. And so, he’d take his time. Even if it killed him.
He unwrapped her legs from around his hips and pulled her to a standing position, but only long enough to tug at the strip of lace between her legs. “This is in my way.”
She stepped out of her panties, heels still on, and then he set her back onto the desk. Close to the edge.
He lowered to his knees. The hard wood was cool against his skin, just what he needed. She was in the perfect position for a taste, as if the carpenter had designed her desk in consideration of a six-four guy going down on a woman.
She gripped his shoulders, and he looked up at her. He could never grow tired of bowing before her, like a servant before a queen. She was in his eyes. Always would be.
He guided his hands up the inside of her legs, noting a slight tremble in her thighs as his fingertips skated closer to her smooth center. His tongue traveled along her slit this time, and a hard gasp blew from her mouth. She shoved her hand through his hair as if forgetting he’d cut it.
“We’re on my desk,” she cried.
He removed his mouth from her and shifted back a touch so their eyes could meet. “And?”
Her lips parted, a hazy look to her eyes now. But a slow nod followed. “We can clean it after.”
A lazy smile gathered on his lips before he focused on her sensitive flesh again.
Everything inside of him hurt to be with her—he wanted her more than maybe he’d even realized until that moment.
“You’re such a tease, Ash—”
“And you love it,” he said before placing sucking kisses on the inside of her thighs. “Now, are you going to be a good girl and come for me?” He darted his tongue over her skin before thrusting two fingers inside of her.
She murmured something he didn’t understand before asking, “What makes you think I’m a good girl?”
God, he needed to have his hands, his mouth—his everything—on her.
He shifted upright and scooped her back into his arms, and she shimmied against his body, rubbing her clit against his skin so he could feel her wetness.
“We need to get these tits free.” He carried her down the hall to her bedroom.
He lowered her to her feet and kissed her hard as he worked at the clasp of her bra, and then within the space of a heartbeat, he spun her, so her back was to him.
“What are you doing?” she asked from over her shoulder.
“Enjoying the view. Give me a second.” He removed his boxers and stroked himself as his gaze landed on the hard slope of her ass and journeyed down her long legs to her heels.
He was going to come just looking at this woman. It’d been a long time. And she wasn’t just anyone. No, she was the fucking one. If only he could get her to see that.
“God, your body is ridiculous.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest, enjoying the warmth of her.
Her hands traveled over his arms like a hug when his palms landed on her full breasts. Her nipples were hard as he massaged and gripped her tender flesh.
“You’re certainly taking your time. You have more self-control than I do.”
Her hips rotated, and the circular motions against his cock had him closing his eyes and taking a much-needed breath. Because, in reality, he needed to fight for control.