Page 98 of Chasing Sparks

It’s strange. Although he’s giving me a blatant eye fuck, he hasn’t kissed me or even hugged me. After a week apart, I kind of hoped he’d miss me more. Maybe he’s too tired to do anything beyond work. At least, that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

“Not yet,” Ash replies, running a hand over the polished bar. “There have been a few hang-ups, so it’s not going to open for another month or so.”

“I’m sorry. Is it because of our vacation?”

“Partly.” His mischievous smirk returns. “But you’re going to make it up to me.”

“I am? Ash, you’ve seen me with home repair. I’m dangerous with a hammer ... or any tool, for that matter.”

“Then we have a problem.”

The playfulness drops from his voice, his face stern as he stares at me, unblinking, arms crossed over his chest.

“We do?”

Uh-oh. What did I do now?

Trust me, I ask myself that question a lot. My mouth has gotten me into hot water more times than I can count.

“Big problem. Huge.”

Ash grips my elbow, his grip firm as he leads me toward the back of the basement. “We’ll be back, guys,” he calls over his shoulder.

Although there isn’t an overabundance of space, Ash had the crew fashion a small office in the back corner of the speakeasy, complete with a leather settee, wood desk, and a tiny private bath.

“So, what kind of problem do we have?” I ask, my brows raising when Ash latches the door behind us.

But Ash doesn’t say a word as he lifts me into his arms and deposits me on the desk. His hands hike my skirt up as he tears at my tights, pulling them down in one rapid movement.

“Oh, we havethatkind of problem.” I purr out the words, twining my fingers in his hair.

He cups my face, his thumbs brushing my cheeks as his eyes lock on mine. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“A woman likes to be missed.”

He buries his head against my skin, his mouth latching onto the sensitive spot just below my ear, and I gasp, the heat of his breath and the scrape of his teeth sending a shiver down my spine. His hands grip my thighs, firm and possessive, guiding them around his waist until there’s no space left between us. “It’s more than that. I can’t fucking breathe when you’re not here.”

He drags his head up, his gaze locking on mine. “I need you, Ori. Tell me I can.”

There’s something so intense about his energy—this raw need all directed at me.

Nibbling his lower lip, I murmur, “I’m yours.”

That’s all he needs to hear. Ash loosens his belt and jeans, letting them fall to his ankles. He slides his hands beneath my ass, and, without hesitation, thrusts inside me, his body trembling as he pauses.

“You feel too good,” he rasps, his voice husky with want.

“I told you that first night, we’re a perfect fit.”

His movements are slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine. His hands anchor me as his rhythm builds, each thrust sending waves of heat through me, driving me closer and closer to the edge.

The faint sound of workers talking on the other side of the door presses at the edges of my mind, but Ash doesn’t seem to care. His focus is entirely on me, his pace steady, his breathing rough.

I bite back a cry, my teeth sinking into my lip as my body tightens around him.

“Ash,” I manage, my voice breaking.

His fingers slide into my mouth, and I circle my tongue around them, watching the desire flame in his eyes and knowing in this moment, at least, I own the man—body and soul.

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