Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
My breath rushes out in an audible whoosh. I want to flop back down on the bed. Want to ask him to fuck me again.
Asher grins, winks, and then turns toward his closet. He casually tosses over his shoulder, “I’ll pick you up at ten tonight.”
A jolt of excitement courses through me that he’s going to take me back to The Wicked Horse.
It reveals something very primal about me that I’d been suspecting but was too afraid to admit.
I crave going to that sex club very much, and I’m done apologizing for it.
While Asher dresses, I scramble into my clothes and hasten back out to the living room. I decide to start my dusting there as I’ve found that some distance between me and his magnetism helps just a fraction.
I’ve moved into the dining room, which is just an open area off the kitchen. I’m cleaning the glass table when Asher walks through. He glances at me but doesn’t say a word, silently making his way to the foyer.
I watch him from the corner of my eye. When he sees the mums sitting on the pedestal, he comes to an abrupt stop. I hastily drop my attention to the glass table, pretending complete absorption in my work, but I can feel his stare on me heavy and almost accusing.
I expect him to say something. Anything. He could just as well thank me as rail at me for buying him something.
He says nothing, though. It’s only when I hear the door open and close again that I relax a little. Bringing my gaze back to the mums, which are completely undisturbed, I wonder what is going through his head right now.
Does he appreciate my efforts, or does he think I’m an idiot? Perhaps they piss him off, a reminder of the expensive piece of art I so clumsily broke.
Regardless, I like them, and I can’t stop the smile that spreads over my face. The flowers definitely help to brighten up the place a bit.
CHAPTER 13
Asher
Things have changed, and I have to roll with it. The downside to me fucking Hannah in my bed on Tuesday is that now I’ve given myself license to fuck her whenever I want. Or is that an upside?
At any rate, I’m lucky that whenever I want seems to coincide nicely with her wants. At least, she hasn’t yet told me ‘no’ the way I’ve given her permission to do so.
All this week, I’ve been waiting for her when she walks in my apartment. I strike before she barely gets the door closed. We’ve christened various rooms and pieces of furniture with all kinds of dirty deeds.
I’ve never fucked a woman in this apartment before. Never brought one here at all, because I don’t do romantic dinners or movie nights. After Michelle died, The Wicked Horse was where I went to get my kicks. What threatens to fuck with my head if I think about it too much is the fact I let Hannah into my space in a personal way, and I did it without any thought. On Tuesday, I saw her in my room and pounced.
No thought at all.
But once that deed was done, I figured it was okay to fuck Hannah in my apartment because she’s still just an employee. It’s at my whim, not hers, and I don’t have to stick around after to cuddle or talk about life. I went to work after, feeling fucking fantastic. Completely energized.
I’ve been in a good mood, or so my assistant has bluntly told me over the last few days. She actually said, “Whatever you’re eating for breakfast these mornings, keep it up.”
Well, these days, that would be Hannah, and her pussy definitely puts me in a great mood.
When I hear the slide of the key in the deadbolt, my body tightens. Lust courses through me. There’s also an eagerness to hear her voice, which I find strange.
The door opens, and Hannah steps over the threshold. I force myself to stand my ground. Her gaze comes straight to me, a knowing smile on her face.
A ready smile.
I can’t wait a moment more, so I take long strides across the living room to reach her. Cupping her face in my hands, I back her into the door. Her eyes are hot, her fingers coming up to latch around my wrists.
“Morning,” she says, her voice husky and needy. It causes my dick to turn to concrete.
“Morning,” I mutter before I slam my entire body into her, knocking her against the door. My mouth descends on hers, and I don’t remember kissing being this damn good with anyone else.
I consider the door I have her trapped against. We haven’t had sex here. It’s no Wicked Horse, but it’s wild and spontaneous. I’ve learned I don’t need the club to enjoy Hannah. In fact, the club itself doesn’t do much to increase my pleasure when I’m with her. It’s been consistently the same since we did away with condoms.