Page 77 of Forbidden Hearts
It’s probably not the best reaction to laugh after earth-shattering sex, but I honestly just can’t believe it.
“The kind of . . . unbelievability of this whole night.” I run my fingers through his hair. “First, the whole runaway thing, then my car running out of gas, and then us ending up here—together—naked.”
“I like you naked.”
“That makes two of us.”
Yeah, he is fucking perfect, and seeing him with his shirt open was absolutely nothing compared to seeing him naked. His chest all muscles and dips and valleys. He has that perfect V-shape at his hips, and don’t even get me started on his arms. Those are totally my thing, and Asher has arms that I want to stay wrapped up in. They come with an added bonus of having a half sleeve hidden under all those clothes. I run my fingers along the lines, tracing the outline of a dove with its wings open. It’s holding a vintage lock in its feet and there is a flower below it.
I can feel his eyes on me, and for some reason, I’m much too vulnerable to look at him. Instead, I focus on the black-and-white ink on his arm and shoulder. “Why a dove?”
He pushes my hair back and tilts my face to meet his eyes, which are currently light blue with a dark rim around the edge. “For my mother.”
“And the lock?”
“Because of my last name.”
“And where is the key?”
He moves his arm a little and it’s inside the flower.
I smile. “It’s beautiful. I need to clean up.”
“Hey, are you okay?”
I nod. “I’m fine. It’s been a long night, and it is”—I glance at the clock and my eyes widen—“four in the morning.”
Asher kisses my nose and then pushes up. There is a sense of emptiness as soon as he’s gone. Not going to unpack that right now, I’ll find another time to dwell on it. I grab my blanket, wrapping it around myself, and he heads into the bathroom.
I hear a click of the lock and flop back down. Well, that was unexpected. I didn’t think I would ever actually go through with it—or that he would either. Yet, we both did.
I force myself back up, my legs wobbly as though I’m a newborn giraffe taking its first steps. The contents of my purse are scattered across the floor, but the one case there reminds me to take my pill. Especially since I’m back on the sex train again. I swallow it without water, and I try to get dressed before he comes out, throwing my sweatshirt on and grabbing my shorts. However, my leg gets caught in my shorts, causing me to hop around in a bid not to fall.
Of course, he comes out right as I’m mid jump and gets to watch as I fail to stick the landing.
I land on my ass, one pant leg twisted and looking like an idiot.
He laughs. “I swear, you and your clothes.”
This time, I don’t swat his offered hand away. He picks me up, tosses my shorts to the floor, and carries me to the bed.
“Asher!”
“Stop complaining.”
“I need my shorts.”
He climbs into the bed beside me, tucking me against his chest. “Uh, what are you doing?” I ask once the shock wears off.
“We have a few minutes.”
As happy as I am to lie in his big, strong arms, we can’t do this. What if Olivia finds us? Or, the more possible outcome, what if I start to want more than just this agreement of sex until I leave?
I can’t do that. I can’t get my heart tangled up in our very noncommittal relationship.
“Asher, we can’t . . .”
“Why not?”
