CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Kaia
Iwas lucky—Dad bought my lie about spending Valentine’s at Mandy’s. He was taking Sharon out, and I couldn’t wait to spend the night with Asher, just the two of us.
My heart pounded an excited rhythm as I scanned the street outside our gate. I had no idea what Asher had planned. All he’d told me was to wear comfortable clothes and meet him here at six.
The second I spotted him leaning against his bike, I hurried over. Dressed in black leather, he looked unfairly good, our helmets resting side by side on the saddle.
“Finally,” Ash said, pulling me to his chest. His lips found mine, and just like that, everything was worth it—the sneaking, the lies, the fear of being caught. His kiss was eager, his mouth warm against me, the cool leather of his jacket beneath my palms.
I cupped his jaw. “Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “When do you need to be back?”
“Ten.” I sighed. “I’m sure our parents won’t return before midnight, but I’d rather not risk it.”
“Good.” Ash grabbed a helmet and settled it on my head, smiling. “I don’t know if I’ve said this before, but you look great in it. You’d make a cute racer, peque.”
“A badass one.” I flipped the visor down. “A menace on the track.”
Asher shook with laughter, swung a leg over the bike, and glanced back at me. “Hug me tight, okay?”
I climbed on behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. When we were set, he started the engine, and we roared away from the neighborhood.
I clung to him as he wove between cars. He didn’t take the road downtown, and for a second I thought he meant to leave Stetbourg altogether. Then he swerved toward the industrial district, and suspicion bloomed in my chest.
Ten minutes later, he opened a pair of gray gates with a remote. My cheeks ached from smiling. He’d brought me to the track.
Ash pulled into a garage. I tugged off my helmet and helped with his before he climbed off, steadying me by the waist as I followed.
“How did you manage this?” I asked. “There’s no one here.”
“Everyone left hours ago,” he said, thumb gliding along my jaw. “I booked a private training session. I just never said I’d be training alone.”
“Hope this doesn’t get you in trouble.”
A one-sided smirk curved his mouth. He pulled me close. “I plan on getting in plenty of trouble tonight. Lots of it.”
I inhaled his scent, closing my eyes. “I’ve been looking forward to it.”
“Me too.” He wound the end of my ponytail around his finger, gave it a playful tug, and kissed my cheek. “We better get moving. Come on.”
I followed him into the garage. Asher grabbed a black backpack and pulled out a set of leather gear nearly identical to his.
“These are for you,” he said. “I’m not taking risks. If you want to race with me, you’re suiting up.”
Race with him. Tenderness swelled in my chest. He wanted me to experience it because I couldn’t be in Emerport to watch him.
He handed me a one-piece race suit and black boots. I hugged them to my chest. “Should I undress?”
Asher rubbed the back of his neck. “Keep the top. It’s thin enough. Jeans have to go—you’ll need flexibility.”
I set the suit on a chair, kicked off my sneakers, then unbuttoned my jeans and slid the zipper down. Slowly, I peeled them from my hips, thankful for the pretty black underwear I’d chosen.
Asher froze. His molten gaze swept over me like a forbidden caress, and everywhere it lingered, my skin sparked. I loved the way he looked at me.
“Don’t forget to breathe,” I teased, trying to cut the tension, though I could barely draw air myself.
He cleared his throat. “Cute of you to worry about me, peque. Need help?”
Not a good idea. I snatched the suit from the chair and shook my head. “I got this.”
By the time I wriggled into the gear, my lungs worked again. The tension still pulsed between us, but I managed to steady myself.
“Beautiful,” Asher said—and I believed him. He always did that, made me feel beautiful, smart…wanted. The suit hugged me like it was tailored, and together we looked like professional racers ready for a photo shoot.
I stepped closer. “What now?”
“Now we’re gonna have some fun.”
His red race bike gleamed beside me, but when I studied it, Asher chuckled. “No seat for you on that one, peque. Sorry. My street bike will have to do.”
I didn’t care, not as long as I got to race with him.
We pulled on helmets and gloves. Ash swung onto his black street bike, the same one we’d ridden here, and when the engine rumbled, he motioned me forward.
I climbed on and wrapped my arms around him, nerves tightening my throat.
The air smelled of leather and gasoline, feeding the anticipation building inside me.
“Ready?” he called over the noise.
Not entirely—but I wanted to feel what made him so alive. “Yes.”
He pressed his hand over mine on his stomach. “Hold on. Don’t let go. We’ll do a few laps. Trust me?”
“More than anyone.”
Asher squeezed my hand, then the bike shot forward. At first, he kept the pace slow, giving me time to notice the streaks of pink, orange, and purple splashed across the sky, vivid against the gray tarmac. Empty stands blurred past as we rounded the first corner smooth as breath.
Then he opened up the throttle. Red-and-white stripes at the pavement’s edge smeared into color, and adrenaline thudded through me. When he leaned into a sharp turn, his knee nearly grazing asphalt, I clutched him so tight my bones ached.
But excitement quickly drowned fear. The track grew familiar. The corners no longer scared me. Even the February wind whipping against my suit couldn’t shake me.
For the first time in months, nothing scared me. It was Asher, the road, and me—and happiness expanded in my chest until I almost laughed.
Five laps later, we coasted back to the garage. Asher killed the engine and hopped off. He lifted my helmet free, then pulled off his own. The grin on his face stretched wide, his eyes gleaming brighter than ever against his sun-warmed skin.
“So? How was it?” he asked.
“Incredible.” Adrenaline still thrummed through me and my legs would wobble if I stood, but I wouldn’t have minded another lap.
Ash yanked off his gloves and flung them onto the saddle. “Come here.”
He slipped an arm around my waist and helped me off the bike. The second my feet hit the ground, he cradled my face in his hands and kissed me with such intensity my knees trembled—not from the track, but from him.
Lightheaded, I stepped back when we broke apart.
“I want to take you somewhere special,” he said. “Keep the suit on. It’s a thirty-minute ride.”
***
The sun sank into a wash of crimson as we stood on a secluded hilltop above Stetbourg, fingers linked. A cool breeze carried the faint scent of pine. Asher ran his thumb over mine and turned his gaze from the view to me.
“Did you have fun on the track?”
I rested my head on his shoulder. “So much. Now I get why you love it. It’s freeing.”
“Yeah.” He kissed my forehead. “Helps me put my thoughts in order—so long as I don’t obsess about performance.”
“You’ll do great in Emerport, Ash. I’m sure you’ll win,” I added.
He sighed. “I need to. Dad won his first race with Forward Racing. I need to do his legacy justice. Look.”
He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the gallery. A photo lit the screen: a man I recognized as his father, holding a racing trophy, his grin triumphant. The resemblance to Asher was uncanny. Off to the side, another young man clapped, pride on his face.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
He pocketed the phone. “Miguel—my father’s mechanic and best friend. They were like brothers. I’ve been trying to reach him since I got here, but he changed his number and ghosted my emails.”
“Why?”
“Fuck if I know, peque. Anyway—enough about that. Tonight’s about you. Give me your hand.”
When I offered it, cool metal pressed against my warm palm. Asher pulled his hand away and produced a pair of dainty silver earrings shaped like roses—the rose from The Little Prince. My eyes blurred. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I love them. I’ve got something for you too.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said. “You’re already my favorite gift.”
I turned to the backpack on the saddle and took out a framed photo Imani had taken after a showcase last year. I wanted him to have a picture of me actually smiling. “It’s nothing big,” I said, handing it to him. “You might not display it, but when you’re away—”
He hooked an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “Love it.” His whisper warmed my lips.
He stowed the photograph in his backpack, then pressed a soft kiss to my mouth that quickly heated. Our tongues tangled; I dug my fingers into his hair and held him.
“I need you,” he murmured, cupping my face.
“Me too,” I breathed.
Asher lifted me; my throat tightened and my heart stuttered when he sat me sideways on his bike and planted his palms on my knees. His thumbs drew tiny circles on my kneecaps and, even through the suit, my skin hummed at his touch.
He eased my legs apart and positioned himself between them. Goosebumps rose when he kissed below my ear.
“Your scent is my favorite,” he murmured, lips brushing my neck. He left a trail of wet kisses down to my shoulder, tugged at the zipper of my suit, and pushed the material aside where it blocked his path.
“Take it off, Ash.” I wanted to feel his mouth on my skin.
He slid the zipper to my waist, eased my arms free, then caught my lips again, as if even seconds apart were unbearable.
His hands slipped beneath my shirt, palms gliding up my back. When his fingers brushed under my bra, I arched against him. He broke the kiss only long enough to plant another on my chin, then the hollow of my throat. A nervous shiver rippled through me as his mouth drifted lower.
He gripped the hem of my shirt and lifted it, uncovering my chest. I’d expected self-consciousness the first time a guy saw me like this, but all I felt was the heat of his touch and the ache coiling low in my stomach.
I’d dreamed of him for so long—I wanted to bottle every second of tonight and keep it forever.
Asher’s mouth found me through the lace. I bit down on my bottom lip, hard enough to sting. God, it felt incredible. He drew my nipple between his lips, and the pressure intensified, pooling hot between my thighs.
He looked up at me, gaze tender and hesitant, as though unsure if I wanted him to keep going. I gave a soft tug on his dark hair—my answer. I wanted everything, or as close as we could get. Words failed me.
He slid one arm around my waist, steadying me, while his teeth tugged the lace aside. The wet heat of his mouth closed over me, and a helpless whimper slipped out.
He sucked gently, flicking his tongue over the hardened bud before moving to the other. My legs tensed on either side of him. I pressed forward until my hips brushed his, desperate for relief.
His hand dropped to my hip, squeezing in warning. “Mi nina,” he breathed against my skin, his warm breath teasing the nipple he’d just abandoned.
I shifted closer. Almost there. One inch more and my body would press fully to his.
“Joder,” he cursed under his breath. He must’ve realized what I was trying to do, because his hand slid down, lowering the zipper further. His fingers skimmed the waistband of my underwear, slipping beneath the fabric—so close I gasped.
He returned to my breasts, kissing and biting softly, his mouth coaxing peaks of aching sensitivity.
I fisted a hand in his hair. “Ash. Please.”
I wanted more. I wanted him. Fantasies weren’t enough—I craved the real thing.
He lifted his head, heat blazing in his irises, a knowing smile curving his lips. Then his mouth crashed back onto mine. As our tongues tangled, his finger slid lower, stroking my sex. He moved easily over my flesh, slick and smooth, and I opened my legs wider, offering him more.
“Me estás matando,” Asher whispered, kissing the corner of my mouth. “You’re killing me, because you don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this. Even when—” he caught my earlobe between his teeth, teased it with his tongue, then let go, fingers moving faster “—I thought I’d never have you.”
“You…” I forced the word out as his thumb circled, pulling me to the edge, “have me now, Ash. All of me.”
“Good.” His lips found mine again. “Because you’ve had me all along.”
We kissed—shameless, greedy—like we never could before. Ash kept touching me, slow, then faster, until I was so wound up the faintest brush would’ve unraveled me.
The muscles inside me clenched, and with another stroke of his thumb, pleasure tore through me, shaking every part of me.
When the tremors eased, he drew his hand away and wrapped me in his warm, steady hold.
I buried my face in his neck, overwhelmed—by the rush, the happiness, the way he made me feel like nothing else mattered. Everything could fall apart, but with him, it would never be unbearable.
Asher threaded his fingers through my hair while I melted against him. Darkness settled around us, making it all feel sharper, more forbidden. Another memory just for us. I wished we had the whole night, not only a handful of hours.
“I’d like to do something to you too,” I whispered, nuzzling the strong line of his throat.
His sigh rumbled under my lips as I kissed his neck. “And I’d love to touch you again, mi nina. But it’s almost ten.”
My heart dropped. Why did time disappear with him?
“I’ll find a way to take you out soon,” Asher murmured. “Promise. Let’s get you dressed before we run out of time.”
Swallowing a groan, I reached for my shirt. I couldn’t risk being grounded, but I’d have traded anything for one more hour in his arms.