Page 124 of Forbidden Hearts
I’ll wait up.
Be sure you do.
I put my phone away and get to work on the report from today’s call. It takes about an hour before I’m happy with the details and sure I haven’t missed anything, and then I’m headed home. When I get there, the lights are off, and I go through my normal routine. I check on Liv, who is snoring in her room, and then head to Phoebe’s room, but she’s not there.
“Phoebe?” I call out, wondering where she is, and when I hear nothing, I start to panic.
Where is she?
I check her bathroom, but she’s not there.
Then I go to the kitchen, living room—double-checking the couch to see if she fell asleep there—and the laundry room, but . . . nothing.
I head into my room, and that’s when I hear the . . . singing . . . if we can call it that, coming from my shower.
Well, this works out well.
I strip out of my uniform, already growing hard at the idea of her naked and wet.
Her eyes are closed, wet silky brown hair down her back as she sings another note—not the right one—and sways her perfect ass. I grip my cock, stroking as I watch her. God, she’s fucking perfect.
I wait for her to notice me, but she doesn’t. I pull the glass door open, which startles her into glancing over her shoulder to me, and slip in behind her. “When I said to wait up for me, I didn’t specify naked. Good job on the improv.”
“You should really not sneak up on people.”
“I was standing there for a solid minute,” I say, sliding my hands around her from behind.
She smirks, looking at me through her thick lashes. “Watching?”
“Yes.”
“Pervert.”
I squeeze her breasts and then pinch her nipple. “You like it.”
“I do.”
I do it again, her moan echoing in the shower. “I think you’ll like this more.” My hand moves down her stomach, and she parts her legs. I grin against her neck. “Already wanting me there.”
Her arm comes up around my neck, giving me a perfect view of the water running down her slick body. “Always wanting you,” she rasps.
“That’s right, you want me, only me.” The possessiveness flares, wanting to own her, claim her, be everything she needs.
I press against where she wants me most, letting the tension between us build. Her body arches, and her other hand grips my thigh, nails biting into the skin. “Asher.”
“What, baby?” I ask as I lighten the pressure.
“Please.”
“Please what?”
“I want to . . . I want you.”
I kiss down the slope of her neck. “Turn around.” She does, and I back her against the tile before pressing both her arms above her head. “I’m going to make you come once here, and then I’m going to carry you to bed and make love to you for hours.”
When I’m inside her this time, it won’t be like before when we pretended it didn’t matter.
She moans as I kiss down her body, but then I hover over her stomach where she’s carrying a child, and she sucks in a breath. There is worry swirling in her eyes, and I keep our gazes locked as I place a kiss there.
