Page 42 of Siren's Game

I imagine her coming into the bathroom, only wearing a towel that barely manages to cover her tits and revealing almost the whole length of her long legs as she has it wrapped around herself.

She'd saunter towards me, seductively taking off the towel, inch by fucking inch.

I just know that given the chance, she'd keep me waiting, longing for her until she can't take it anymore herself. I groan and let my head fall back, leaning against the cool tiles of my shower. Fuck.

Once naked, she wouldn't give me a chance to take her in. I picture her sinking on her knees in front of me, purring as she palms my cock and starts jerking me off.

She'd lick her lips seductively before taking me into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing just like they did when she drank her damned cocktail, as she sucked me off, slowing down when she knows I'm just about there.

I'd be a heaving mess, fingers tangled in her hair and muscles strained to not keep her head right where it is and fuck her pretty little mouth until I come down her throat. And I would enjoy every fucking second of it.

I jerk myself faster. Fuck. The image of her on her knees, looking up at me through hooded eyes, cheeks red with heat and pleasure, it's enough to push me over the fucking edge.

With a loud groan, I come, my release spurting against the shower wall. I watch it drop down the tiles as I try to catch my breath.

Fuck, I needed that.

That is my first realization. The second one comes right after, hitting me like a freight train.

Holy shit, I am in so much trouble.

Kayla

Whattheactualfuckwas that?

I lean my back against the cold elevator wall, my ears feeling numb with pressure as it descends, making my heartbeat sound way louder than it has any business being.

"Over and over again until they beg me to stop."

His husky voice echoes in my mind, the words repeating themselves in his rasped voice, sending a fucking shiver down my spine and goosebumps over my arms.

When he said it, I felt like I got caught something I shouldn't be doing. As if he knew my deepest secret, exactly how I like to be treated in bed. For a second, it seemed he knew exactly how to push my buttons, how to get me going and God fucking damnit, he was successful.

And I fear I’ve admitted it with my reaction, judging by that cocky smile he shot me when he drew back.

I tried to distract myself with song writing, I really did. A melody popped into my head as we walked by the paparazzi on our way back, the sound of camera shutters aligning for the fraction of a second into a catchy melody I just had to record and get down.

It didn’t help much, though. His raspy voice echoed in my head over and over, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake it off.

I cross my legs, willing the tingly feeling in my pussy to go away.

Fuck.

I'm in so much trouble. How am I supposed to spend the next two months without sex? There's just no way I can.

As soon as the elevator doors open, I run to the car waiting for me, curtly greeting the driver and telling him where to go.

No matter how much I try, I can't will my thoughts away from Asher. I try to think of the halftime show, puppies, leaving our label—none of it helped.

If anything, trying to distract myself from his confession leads to remembering all the small things he did throughout the evening that made my cheeks grow warm, my heart flutter and my core tingle.

The way he shields me whenever I get in or out of the car?

Sexy as fuck.

The way he watches me like a hawk when we walk through a paparazzi crowd to make sure I’m alright? The way he went into jealous mode when I talked to Josh, appearing in the doorway like a phantom as we spoke?

Holy moly.

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