Chapter 16
Roxanne
Asher's arms around me are firm and warm. I snuggle deeper into his embrace, welcoming it like I’ve been starved for affection.
With how things have been lately and the confusion in my mind, this is a breath of fresh air. The fact that he’s simply holding me alone seems to ease the knot in my gut.
The realization alone nearly undoes me.
I stand frozen against him while the warmth of his embrace slowly seeps beneath my skin. His chest rises steadily beneath my cheek. His familiar scent surrounds me, expensive and masculine and entirely too comforting.
My throat tightens unexpectedly. “Asher.”
His arms tighten slightly. The simple gesture feels dangerously intimate, and I close my eyes.
This is exactly why I've spent the last few weeks trying to keep my distance. Because every time this man shows me a piece of himself, I start forgetting all the reasons I should be careful.
Eventually, he leans back enough to look at me. The exhaustion from his trip is visible now. His tie is loosened. The top button of his shirt is undone. There are faint shadows beneath his eyes.
Yet somehow he's still staring at me like I'm the only thing in the room. His gaze travels slowly across my face.
“Why did you wait so long? What if I didn’t come here?”
That is a possibility I didn’t want to think of. Not with my current situation.
The quiet wonder in his voice makes something ache inside my chest.
“I wanted to talk to you,” I say softly.
Avoiding it any further won’t make this go away. I need to think of a solution quickly, and right now, I should first let Asher know the truth.
Asher's arms remained around me. The office was quiet except for the distant hum of the city outside.
He squints at me. “Is it the same thing you wanted to tell me before the trip?” He asks.
I nod.
His mouth twitches. The expression is one of amusement, while his eyes tell me something different. He looks like a man trying very hard not to do something reckless.
Something that I’m sure my traitorous body would welcome without a second thought.
“Asher.”
“Hm?” His tone is husky as he leans over me.
The scent of his cologne overwhelms me. I try to wriggle out of his arms while fighting to hold onto every shred of control I have.
“I'm serious,” I whisper breathlessly.
“So am I.”
Good lord! I need him.
I shouldn’t be thinking that when I need to let him know that I’m currently carrying his baby.
His hand slides slowly up my back. My breath catches immediately.
His eyes darken. “That look.”
“What look?”
I know just what look he’s talking about, but right now I shouldn’t be indulging him this way.
“The one you get when you're trying not to react to me,” he murmurs against my neck.
My pulse jumps as his hot breath sends a jolt through me. I raise my hand to push him away, but instead I leave it on his chest.
“You've been gone for five days,” I say. “We should talk so you can go back home quickly.”
The words escaped before I could stop them. Something shifts in his expression as he studies my face. He slides a finger along my quivering lips as a flicker of satisfaction settles in his eyes.
“Missed me?” He teases.
“No.”
“Liar.”
I roll my eyes. His hand tightens around my waist just enough to stop me from pretending I could walk away. Heat rushes through me, concentrating around my abdomen.
“Asher.”
“Do you have any idea what you've done to me the last five days?”
The question startles me.
I blink. “What?”
He lets out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. He presses his body against mine. I know just what he's talking about when the hard ridge of his erection pushes against me.
For the last few weeks, a part of me had started to think that he might not be attracted to me anymore. Looks like I was wrong about that.
“I was halfway across the world thinking about you.”
Same here.
He stares at me for a long moment, like he’s trying to decide how honest he wants to be. Then his gaze drops briefly to my mouth.
The air grows thinner around us as my breathing grows uneven.
“I should let you talk,” he says huskily.
I nod eagerly. “Yes.”
“I want to.” He leans closer to me, mouth inches away from mine. “I should.”
His eyes lift back to mine. I tighten my arms around his neck, holding him closer.
“Unfortunately,” he says softly, “I've missed you too much to be reasonable.”
I gasp. “Asher?—”
The rest of my sentence disappears when he kisses me. His large hand wraps around the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my blonde hair as he pulls me forward.
Every thought of conversation instantly evaporates.
Though anticipated, the kiss is sudden and dripping with an underlying desperation that catches me completely off guard. He tastes like dark liquor.
My gasp of surprise only gives him deeper access, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, claiming me with a bruising intensity that makes my head spin.
Later, a dizzy voice in my mind whispers. I’ll tell him later.
Right now, I am drowning in him, and God help me, I don't want to be saved.
I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, burying my fingers into the expensive charcoal wool of his suit jacket. I hate being vulnerable, hate letting anyone see beneath my composure, but Asher’s touch dismantles my defenses with terrifying ease.
He groans, a low, rumbling sound against my mouth that vibrates straight down to my core. His free hand grips my waist as he pushes me against his office door.
The cold air of the air conditioner welcomes me into his office as the door opens.
His thumb digs into my hip through the fabric of my skirt, and before I can process the movement, he lifts me.
My heels clear the floor. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, my thighs gripping his hips as he backs me up against the edge of his desk.
With a ruthless sweep of his arm, he sends a stack of folders clattering to the floor. He sets me down on the smooth, cool wood, pressing his heavy, muscular frame flush against mine.
“You drive me crazy, Roxanne,” he growls against my lips, his breath hot and ragged.
“I can say the same about you,” I say breathlessly, trying to hold onto a shred of my usual wit.
However, my voice betrays me; it's nothing but a needy purr, reminiscent of the clamor inside me.
His grey eyes flare. The sheer heat radiating off him is intoxicating.
Asher reaches down, grabbing the hem of my skirt and bunching the silk upward. His rough palms scrape against the bare skin of my thighs.
A shiver races up my spine. He finds the edge of my lace panties and hooks his fingers into them, tearing them down my legs in one fluid, impatient motion. They drop somewhere onto the floor, forgotten.
I arch into him, completely at his mercy. He pins my wrists to the desk on either side of my head. His grip is like iron bands, forcing me to look at him as he unbuckles his belt with his free hand.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he commands, his voice dropping an octave, thick with a dangerous promise.
I see the cracks in his armor, the raw, unbridled lust that I alone seem capable of wrenching out of him. For a man who thrives on absolute control, he is beautifully undone by me.
And I love that so much.
When he pushes his trousers down and positions himself at my entrance, the sheer size and heat of him make me whimper.
I am already slick and aching for him. The tension between us stretches to a breaking point. And his teasing drives me crazy.
“Asher, please.”
He doesn't make me beg longer. He drives forward, burying himself inside me in one deep thrust.
My eyes fly open, and a broken cry escapes my lips. The sensation is overwhelming. It’s a blinding rush of friction and heat that centers entirely in my lower abdomen.
He fills me completely, stretching me and reminding me just how good it felt the very first time, too.
Asher freezes for a second, his jaw clenched so tight the bone looks ready to snap. His chest heaves against my breasts as he acclimates to the tight warmth of my body.
“Fuck, Roxanne,” he mutters.
Then, he begins to move.
It’s a brutal, relentless rhythm. He handles me with a possessive roughness that should scare me, but instead, it fuels the fire in my veins.
His hips slam into mine, the heavy wood of the desk creaking under our combined weight. Every thrust is deliberate, hitting the sweet spot inside me over and over until my vision blurs with hot pleasure.
“Asher.” I let out a loud moan, biting onto my lower lip.
He releases my wrists, and my hands fly to his back. He cups my breast through the material of my shirt, tugging it off, along with my bra.
I shiver when the cold air hits my breasts and hardens my nipples.
Needing to touch him, too, my nails dig through his shirt, tearing at the fabric as I try to pull him even closer.
God, I want to melt into him.
I want to forget all my inhibitions and the tiny heartbeat growing inside me. Right now, I just want the pleasure he can give me.
“Faster,” I sob against his neck, arching my back.
I lift my hips to meet his punishing pace.
He obliges my request. His grip on my waist tightens as he drives into me with a feral intensity. The friction is unbearable, deepening the wild urgency in my lower abdomen.
Asher buries his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling sharply as his teeth graze the sensitive skin of my collarbone. I gasp as his pace turns frantic.
I’m right on the edge, and I feel the tension screaming for release. “Asher, I'm…”
“Go on,” he says hoarsely, his own movements turning chaotic, “Come for me, Roxanne.”
The command shatters me. My walls crumble completely as a violent wave of contractions ripples through me, squeezing him tightly. I scream his name into the empty office, my thighs shaking against his ribs as the orgasm crashes over me in relentless, blinding waves.
With two last, deep thrusts, Asher groans and spills himself deep inside me. He stiffens as his manhood pulses inside my warmth. He holds me so tightly against him I can barely breathe.
For several long minutes, the only sound in the room is the ragged, synchronized gasps of our breathing. Asher buries his face in my blonde hair, his heartbeat a frantic thud against my chest.
As the euphoria slowly recedes, reality begins to creep back in. I feel the heavy warmth of his release inside me, and a sudden pang of emotion hits my chest.
Asher doesn't know yet. He doesn't know what we've done, or what this moment truly means.
But as his hand gently strokes the side of my face, his thumb brushing a stray tear from my cheek with a tenderness he rarely shows, a small spark of hope flares in my chest.
Maybe, just maybe, when he learns the truth, he won't run.
Asher carries me gently to the couch, and we stay wrapped up in each other’s arms for what feels like hours as we both calm down.
The city lights glitter beyond the windows. Asher's arms are wrapped around me again. The position feels almost absurdly comfortable.
I rest my head against his shoulder while his fingers move lazily through my hair. This version of him still feels new.
His lips brush briefly against my temple. Then he speaks. “So.”
My stomach immediately tightens.
“What did you want to tell me?”
I gulp, realizing it's finally time to stop avoiding this. My heartbeat begins accelerating instantly as I sit up slowly.
Asher notices the change immediately. His expression sharpens as concern replaces contentment.
“Roxanne?”
I look down at my hands and slowly back at him.
There’s no need to keep hiding this and drowning in worry all by myself. I owe him the truth. Whatever happens afterward. Whatever his reaction is, he deserves to know.
I draw a slow breath, calling on every bit of courage I have.
“I'm pregnant.”
The words settle heavily between us. For a few seconds, nothing happens. Then Asher goes completely still. Every trace of movement disappears from his body as his expression goes blank.
It’s as though his brain has stopped functioning entirely. I watch calmly as his eyes lock onto mine.
Neither of us speaks. The silence stretches endlessly around us. And for the first time since seeing those two pink lines, I'm more terrified than I've ever been in my life.