Page 71 of The Influencer

He shakes his face away. “Get the fuck out of my head, will you?” His fingers work furiously to complete their work, and then he pushes the shirt off my shoulders. “Why are you doing this to me? Did I steal your boyfriend or something?”

I can’t talk. I’m too busy kissing the other side of his neck. I swear to God he tastes like a Dreamsicle. Sweet and creamy with a hint of citrus. I can’t get enough. He fingers the cross at my throat. “This is ironic, right?”

“Yes,” I finally say.

He sits back and devours me with his gaze. “I knew it. God, you’re so fucking sexy. So tan.”

I bite back yet another smile. Tan.

He squirms on my lap and reaches around for his zipper. “Get me out of this thing.”

“But it’s cute.”

“It’s itchy.”

I cup his ass and run my fingers down his seam. “You just need a hole right here…”

“I’ll have my tailor put one in.”

I can’t not laugh at that. “You really outdid yourself tonight with this.”

“Let me know the next time you’ll be over, and I’ll outdo myself again.”

We exchange simultaneous cautious glances. Neither one of us moves or speaks.

20

jade

I meant it.

And because I meant it, I’ve shocked myself into silence. Him, too, apparently. “What?” I finally challenge. “You’re not coming back?” I roll my eyes, though it’s an effort. “Please…”

“I’ll be single the next time I see you.”

Not if he comes back tomorrow night, I think, even though I realize how traitorous the thought is. How risky. But at the moment, I don’t want him out of my sight. “So? Even better. None of this pesky guilt. Not that you seem exactly overrun with it.”

“I’m in denial. It’ll catch up with me at some point,” Asher assures me.

I take him at his word and don’t press the issue. I don’t know why I keep letting Olivia into the bedroom with us, but this makes twice, and I don’t intend to do it again. “Are you gonna help me with the zipper or what?”

He catches my gaze as his hands slide up my back to find the zipper tab. I rub my erection against his in delicious little tilts of my pelvis while he takes his sweet time unzipping me. Like the latex bodysuit, this fits like a second skin, but it’s much easier to take off. This is hotter anyway. I love a good zipper moment.

I quirk a grin at him, and his eyes heat. “May I?” I ask as I lift my hands to his bun.

He responds with a soft, “Sure.”

I haven’t seen him with his hair down—ever. I don’t even know how long it is.

I am in no way disappointed.

It falls in dark, silky waves all the way to his shoulders. I fuss over it a moment, putting it into some semblance of order until it frames his handsome face, and he looks almost like Jesus, especially with that cross on his necklace. “You have great hair,” I say, toying with a few strands as his fingertips slide up my newly exposed spine.

“Runs in the family.”

“Smells amazing.”

“It smells like Suave.”

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