Page 45 of All That She Needs

Holy shit! What the hell was that?

I found myself in my bedroom. Alone. Panting, out of breath, like I'd just run a marathon. It was just a dream, but my God, what a dream. I remembered everything. It felt so real that I could still feel the tingling below my belly.

I rubbed my face and flopped back onto the bed with a frustrated groan, trying—and failing—to fall back asleep.

Part 25: Asha

My mind was a dirty, filthy, smutty pit. I felt tainted. I couldn't shake the dream—it clung to me for three days, refusing to fade like usual. Normally, I forgot my dreams within minutes, but this one lingered, looping endlessly in the corners of my mind.

Every time I remembered Liam's voice, a private shiver ran through me."Say my name again,"he had whispered, low and intimate. And then came the heat, the flush of my own response, words I could barely believe had come from me:"I want it in me."

But this one was the winner."Fucking come for me, Asha. Come on my face."The needy, greedy sensation between my legs then returned, immediately dampening my panties.

Those illicit images from my dream kept popping into my mind like an uninvited guest who just wouldn't leave, fueling an infinite hunger that refused to take a hint. The more I tried to push it away, the stronger it became, as if it were determined to make itself comfortable on my mental couch. It didn't care that I was stuck in a meeting, nodding along while pretending to be engaged. My mind was clearly on a different wavelength, and it utterly gave no shit for the meeting agenda.

Sometimes, I had to squeeze my legs together desperately, trying to ease the growing ache that seemed to take on a life of its own. Each time someone around the table spoke, I fought to focus, but my thoughts kept wandering off like mischievous children on a playground. I shifted inmy seat, feeling the heat rising to my cheeks. My colleagues were blissfully unaware of my relentless, depraved thoughts, completely absorbed in their own discussions. Little did they know that while they were mapping out our annual budget, my mind was off on a very different adventure—one that was clearly not suited for the boardroom.

More than once, while pretending to care about the spreadsheets in front of me, I found myself plotting a way to escape this mental mayhem—and find him.

Fortunately, Liam was out of town on a business trip for the past few days. How did I know this? He texted me to let me know he'd be away for three days and was quite detailed about it. He informed me when he arrived at the airport, when he boarded the plane, and when he landed safely. Then he let me know when he checked into the hotel. He even filled me in on the boring meetings, the dinners, and the party his business partner threw for him. Plus, he sent pictures. I saw him in a suit for the first time.

And let me tell you, the guy looked dapper in a suit.

His texts were like a play-by-play of his trip, complete with his usual charm."Just came back to the hotel. Miss you. Still two days to go until I see you,"he wrote in one message, followed by a picture of him from the waist up, wearing a white undershirt, lying on the bed in his hotel room, looking both suave and exhausted. I couldn't help but sigh at the sight.

Scorching hot, oh my God.

In another message, he wrote,"Meetings are boring, but at least the hotel has a killer view. Wish you were here to enjoy it with me."He sent a photo of the skyline that left me both envious and a little wistful because that skyline reminded me too much of that dream.

He asked me how I was doing, and I struggled to find the right answer. I didn't want to lie, but I certainly couldn't tell him I was preoccupied with a sex dream about him that kept nagging at me and giving me a slight pinch between my thighs. So, I stayed silent.

In another message, he sent a selfie with his hair slightly tousled and a playful pout on his lips."I'm not feeling well. Missing you too much."

I decided it would be best to mute his messages and ignore them completely. It wasn't good for my sanity, especially since I shamelessly stared at his pictures far too many times to be healthy.

And today was the day he would be back at the office.

My nerves were frayed, and I anxiously dreaded seeing him. With my pent-up sexual frustration escalating, I worried I wouldn't be able to resist jumping into his arms the moment I saw him.

Standing in front of the elevator in the lobby, I was twitchy and fidgety, biting my nails as I stared at the glowing digital numbers above the doors, silently willing them to descend to the lobby faster. "Come on, faster, faster," I muttered to myself, as if I could command the machine to move at my pace. Every few seconds, I glanced over my shoulder, scanning the crowded lobby for any sign of him. But amid the rush of people, Liam was nowhere to be found.

Finally, with a soft ding, the elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside, my heart racing. I pressed the button for my floor, swallowing a mix of anticipation and anxiety. As the doors slid shut, I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, feeling utterly ridiculous for being so wound up.

But then, just an inch before the elevator door closed, it opened again. And there he was—standing casually with his hands in his pockets, looking effortlessly as handsome as he was in that suit. My breath caught in my throat as he looked up, a surprised smile breaking across his face.

"Hey there," he said, his voice warm and delicious. Just like that, I scrambled to remember all my careful planning to avoid him at all costs. I instinctively took a step back, though I couldn't suppress the grin spreading across my face. And yes, I was blushing. I didn't know why I'd been so anxious moments before, because at the sight of him, I felt an overwhelming rush of happiness. I suddenly realized just how much I had missed him.

No, Asha. Get a grip.I whiffed off the stupid grin and plastered on a more serious expression. Clearing my throat as Liam stepped inside, I managed to croak, "Liam."

He stood beside me, clasping his hands in front of him. We both stared at our reflections in the elevator doors, stealing glances at each other. "Long time no see," he muttered, his eyes locked with mine in the reflection.

"Yeah. How was the trip?" I asked, trying to sound casual, though my mind was racing, replaying that damn dream in vivid detail. His presence beside me made it feel way too real. My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to focus on his response, praying he couldn't see the heat rising to my face.

I was definitelynotthinking about the dream where I was naked in front of him. Nope. And I wascertainlynot thinking about his bare chest... and his...

"If you'd read my texts, you'd know," he replied, cutting my frustrating inner conflict, a hint of disappointment in hisvoice. He must've noticed the one tick beside his messages, never turning into two, realizing I'd been ignoring them.

"I'm sorry," I said stiffly. "The pictures were... distracting."

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