Page 72 of Texting My Secret Santa

Asher:Tomorrow morning. I think it’s better if I go alone. Will you be able to find your own way home? Mom will let you stay for a while. It’s better if we don’t see each other, though.

He’s right. I know that. Yet the thought of never seeing him again hurts.

Me:Can you hold me like you did the other night? Just until I fall asleep? I know it’s wrong of me to ask, but if this is the end, I’d like some final moments with you.

Asher:It’s wrong of you to ask,he replies,and for me to say yes. It’s wrong how badly I need that.

I toss my phone onto the bed. I can’t be mad at his response. As he said, he’s being the mature one.

My door handle turns, the door creaking as it opens. Asher stands in the doorway, wearing a shirt and shorts. Every inch of his sculpted form bulging like all his stress is physically bubbling up. He closes the door and walks quietly across the room.

“One last night,” he whispers.

He lies down, lifting his arm. I crawl into the space and put my cheek against his chest. His heart is pounding through his pec. He gently strokes his hand through my hair.

“I’m going to miss you,” I tell him.

“I’m going to miss you too, Snowflake.”

“This was never going to be a Christmas miracle, was it?”

He sighs, “I don’t think so.”

I prop my hands on his chest, looking up. He’s staring at me, his frosty eyes containing so much.

“What?” I ask, laughing quietly.

He smiles. “I’m just trying not to kiss you.”

“When you look at me like that … ditto.”

I lean up. He leans down. We meet in the middle, and passion blazes through us. I moan as my hands tighten against his skin, my fingernails pushing against his solidness.

He rolls over, his hand gliding down my body, over my hip, toward my ass. Pleasure coaxes me to forget about our responsibilities. I slide my hand under his shirt, over his belly, feeling the ridges of his abs.

He groans like he’s going to tell me to stop but then kisses me harder, hungrier.

I slide into his lap and move my hips, feeling so sexy when I’m with him. Any doubts about my body are difficult to entertain when he grabs hold of me like I’m the only woman he ever wants to touch.

We stop when Brianna yells, “Asher? Asher? I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

Asher springs to his feet, rushing for the door. “Mom?”

CHAPTER 26

ASHER

The change in mood is abrupt. One moment, I am kissing and touching my virgin. Now, Mom is staring at me with tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“It’s that awful man. You were right. I think he’s gone on a bender.”

“Derek?” I snap. “What now?”

“He’s at the church, wrecking the decorations. He’s got some men with him.”

“What thefuck?” I snap. “Why won’t he just leave us alone?”

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