CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Asher
On one condition.
When he said those words today it was like being back on that moonlit night when the world seemed right and life seemed fair.
He remembered it too.
What he said.
The moment we shared between us.
But there was something else that glanced through his eyes. Uncertainty? Confusion? I’m just not sure.
The mature thing to do would be to say something about it. To put it out in the open so maybe both of us can proceed with parameters in mind.
But I don’t want to be mature. I don’t want to ruin this time I have with him because I’m more than aware this time is limited.
One more month.
Four more weeks.
And then what?
Do we cut each other out of our lives as we did back then?
His work responsibilities will be over just like his summer vacations once were.
The difference this time around is I’m not content to be a phone call and a text message away for nine months of the year while I pine for his presence the other three.
I deserve more than that.
I deserve better than that.
This whole thing has gotten complicated despite things between Ledger and me being so easy. I’ve become the queen of lying by omission. To Gran when she asks for more details about the man I’m seeing. To Ledger by not telling him about the check.
And my own internal justification is the same thing that is conflicting with me—that Ledger will be gone sooner than later.
“Is there a reason you’ve been staring at me for the past minute?” Ledger teases as his eyes narrow at me from over a container of Kung Pao chicken.
Get a grip, Ash.
“I wasn’t staring.”
Quit mind-fucking this to death.
“You were zoned out. Should I worry that it’s because I have food on my face or something in my teeth?”
Just enjoy his company and figure the rest out later.
“No. Sorry.” I smile and move the food around in my take-out container. “I was lost in thought.”
“You’re probably thinking, Ledger is getting rather pudgy around the middle since he’s been here for weeks and hasn’t worked out properly.”
“I think you’ve worked me out just fine, thank you very much.”
His grin is lightning quick as he sets his food down, crawls on all fours, and presses a chaste kiss to my lips. His eyes darken with desire when they meet mine. “I’d be more than happy to work you out again shortly.”
Just enjoy his company.
“Shortly? I think you’re losing your edge, Ledger Sharpe.” I take his hand in mine and place it between the V of my thighs.
His groan is an aphrodisiac in itself.
“My edge?” He snorts. “I don’t think that’s what you were saying a few hours ago.”
Snapshots flash through my mind.
My bare ass on his pristine desk. My legs spread wide. My fingers tugging on his hair. His amber eyes looking up at me from between my thighs as he slid his tongue up and down my slit before pushing it inside me.
The decadent intensity.
The mind-blowing pleasure.
The utter bliss of the orgasm that slammed into me heightened by the thrill and fear of being caught by someone walking into The Retreat and catching us.
And then of course, there was the sex itself.
How Ledger bent me over his desk with my sundress bunched around my hips.
How he pushed his magnificent cock into me while my pussy was still fluttering from the climax he’d given me moments before.
How he held my shoulder with one hand and gripped my hip with his other while he teased and toyed and ground into me over and over until we were both left spent, breathless, and momentarily satisfied.
My body aches from the memory. From the promise of more of him.
Because it’s always momentary satisfaction when it comes to Ledger. There’s always a want for more. A need for more. A desire for one more taste or touch or kiss of his.
He’s the best kind of addiction in the worst kind of way. One you want to have but fear the withdrawal from.
“A few hours ago? Did something happen?” I ask coyly with a bat of my lashes and a taunting smile. “Oh, yes. I completely forgot.”
“You forgot?” he says in mock shock as he grabs my leg with his free hand and tugs me down to the floor where he is. My laugh is smothered by his lips. “Then I guess I better help you remember.”
My gasp is sharp when he nips my shoulder. “The food though . . .”
He grinds his clothes-clad cock between my thighs. “Fuck the food. It’s better reheated.”
“Definitely better reheated.”