Page 37 of Devious Delusions

My feet carry me forward until I’m closer to the threshold of his office. Screens line each wall and I tilt my head to look through the gap. I haven’t entered the room because I thought it would be boring, but it’s filled with a bunch of computers. I can’t remember a time where Asher cared about that shit. He always said they were boring when we were kids and he’d call Kane a nerd for wanting to be a coder. But he’s created that business and credited Kane for its inception because this Asher is sentimental.

He stands facing a wall full of screens showing different angles of the property. It’s a live feed and there are even cameras inside the house. He turns his head before the screen changes to show me in the hallway, his eyes downcast, and he tries to smile but it falls straight away as he walks towards me.

As soon as I’m within reach, he wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side while ending his conversation.

“Like I said, I’ll come to the station tomorrow. Thanks for getting in touch with me directly, I appreciate it.”

Have they found the freak? Is he real?

My blood turns to ice because if he’s real, then so was last night. If it’s real, then it wasn’t a dream and I’m the worst person in existence because I cheated on my caring husband who has already been through enough shit because of me.

Asher ends his call and slips his phone into his pocket, acting like nothing has happened.

“Let’s see if your cooking has improved, Lilo,” he says easily. Too easily.

There’s no strain in his voice and he guides me to the table in the corner of the kitchen. All the earlier tension has disappeared and I’m sure he’s the crazy one for acting normal as he sets our food in front of us. Not knowing what the police wanted is making me itchy. I already have to deal with the world I knew changing around me on a daily basis and battling my memories. The silence is suffocating so I break it as he takes his seat. “What did the police want?”

He pauses with his fork in his hand and acts like I haven’t spoken.

“Did you follow a recipe?” Turning to me, he adds with a smile, “You usually burn toast.”

I sit taller in my seat and try to remove the confusion from my voice. “Yeah, I found one online.”

Circumstances forced me to learn to cook while I was working at the diner, and I hated eating anything processed after smelling it all day. I taught myself after getting away from my family and I’d follow different recipes. That isn’t a false memory when I’ve clearly been able to follow a recipe again and there’ssomething edible in front of me. I may have burnt the sauce the first time I made it, but the second batch is fine, and it isn’t making Asher cough.

I watch Asher from the corner of my eye as I absentmindedly twirl my fork through the spaghetti. He doesn’t lean back in his seat and watches his food as though it’s going to disappear. Every mouthful is eager, and I quickly look away when his eyes dart to me.

“It’s good, baby. I’m proud of you.”

I don’t say anything because I’m still confused about his earlier comment, but he looks over my shoulder and covers his laugh with the edge of the napkin as he wipes his lips.

“Is this the second or third attempt?”

“Second?”

“You’re getting better. Earmark the recipe and we’ll cook together next time.” I nod and he does the same as he cups my cheek and softly asks, “Need a distraction, baby?”

I nod again.

Setting his fork on the side of the plate, he grabs the leg of my chair and drags me closer. My knee knocks into his until he lifts me out of the seat and places me on his thighs with my back to his chest. I try to stand and open my mouth to tell him I’m fine, but he lifts his hips and pulls his sweats down to free his dick.

“Sit down and eat, Delilah.”

His voice is deeper and brushes the side of my neck as he widens my thighs and pushes my panties to the side. Without saying another word, he wraps his arm around my hips and pulls me down to not only sit on him, but sit on him with his dick inside me.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my moan back and there’s no reaction behind me. He just picks up his fork, drags my plate closer, and gestures towards it with the metal tines.

“Eat,” he says like this is another totally normal thing to do.

My voice wobbles as I tense every muscle in my body to get a reaction out of him. “I’m a bit too distracted to stuff my face right now.”

He gently rests his fork against the edge of the plate and picks up the napkin again. There’s no tension in his body like he’s holding himself back. He’s perfectly content to sit like this while I squirm. I focus on the napkin as he folds it over his forefingers and rests the side of his palm against the table. The white linen is the most fascinating thing in the world until Asher leans into me and speaks slowly, making me feel every vibration of his words through his chest.

“Eat your food, Delilah, and keep my dick warm until I’m ready for you.”

I shakily pick up my fork, earning a soft kiss to my jaw, and he drops his hand from my hip to between my legs. My thighs tremble, matching the tremor that has overtaken my hand at the first brush of his fingers against my clit. The napkin is gently placed on the table, and he starts eating again.

This is torture.

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