Page 104 of Irresistibly Risky

“Give your big man a fist-pound for me and we’re even.” He disconnects the call, but I can’t even muster a grin at that. Lenox will get me any skeletons Joe is trying to keep hidden in his closet. Something tells me I’m going to need them.

Whatever they are.

But as I’m riding up, I’m hit with what Joe said. Truly hit by it. I can’t idly sit around and allow Joe to control my life. My career. My future. With a heaviness in my chest that resembles something like grief, I text Hunter. I’m under contract through next season, which is why Joe has the power to trade me anytime he likes. But being a player, I have some options if I’m proactive. I can position myself in a way that’s advantageous to where I’m willing to end up—even if it’s not in Boston.

I’m not sure I have any other choice but to put out feelers and see what catches.

A few minutes later, I enter the apartment and go searching for Wynter and Mason, only to find them in his room in the rocking chair. The lights are off, and his nightlight is on. Mason’s head is against her chest, his little butt on her lap. She holds him as she gently rocks him in the chair.

I raise the brown bag up like a triumphant warrior returning from battle, and she gives me a soft, approving smile. “Thank you. Is he asleep? I’m afraid to move to check.”

“Looks to be that way.” I walk in and crouch down beside them, running my hand along the back of his soft head. “How’s he doing? He feels cool.”

“Poor baby threw up all over himself, and I had to give him a quick bath. That broke his fever along with the ibuprofen, though I wonder how much of the ibuprofen he vomited. Every time I try to put him down, he cries though.”

“Let me try?”

She worries her lip with her teeth but then gives me a nod. I slip my hands around his little body and then carefully shift him to my good shoulder. He comes easily, hardly stirring, even as I stand and walk him over to his crib. I plant a gentle kiss on the top of his head and then set him down.

Wynter stands, both of us holding our breath, waiting for him to wake up, and when he doesn’t, we creep out of the room, shutting the door behind us as quietly as we can.

“I think I might sleep in my old room tonight so I’m close to him,” she whispers, looking tired already even though it’s not even eight.

I take her hand and walk her toward the kitchen, where I direct her onto a bar stool, and then go about fixing us up a couple of chicken burritos because I have the stuff for them in the fridge.

“That’s fine. Can I sleep in there with you?” I ask.

She laughs as if my question is ridiculous. “I already assumed you would since I know you’d never want to sleep across the apartment from us.”

Something in the way she says that, in the way she knows how I feel about her and how I feel about Mason, has me rounding the island and taking her face in my hands. I kiss her. Urgently. Desperately. Like a man who feels as though he’s only holding onto things by a thin thread.

Her hand cups my jaw, running along my smooth cheek before she pushes her finger into my chin dimple playfully. “What was that for?”

I need to tell her that Joe knows I’m Mason’s father, and I will. But if I tell her I’m being traded and there is no plan in place for it, she’ll freak out. I know she will. I have to figure that part out so I can better reassure her that everything can still work with us.

But right now, I need her. I need to touch her and hear her moan my name. I need to know that this thing between us is real and lasting. No matter what.

So instead of answering her, I lift her out of her seat and drop her on the stone counter. She eyes me curiously, likely because I’m not smiling or flirting the way I always do. I’m dead-ass serious right now, truly afraid for the first time in my life because for the first time in my life, I have something I’m unwilling to lose.

I tear her shirt off, throwing it somewhere behind me, and then my mouth dives in, kissing my favorite spot on her neck and inhaling her sweet fragrance. Her hands get lost in my hair, her body swaying backward on the counter, and I grab her thigh, dragging her closer to me until my body is cradled in the V of her thighs.

She’s not going anywhere.

“Asher?” She moans, but there’s a question on the back end of it. I shake my head, silently telling her not now, as I suck on her neck and begin to trail open-mouthed kisses down to her chest. My hand comes up, cupping and lifting one breast until the soft swell meets my lips. In a flash, I rip down the cup, and then capture her nipple in my mouth, sucking roughly on it.

Wynter lets out a low whimper as I eagerly devour her nipple, swirling my tongue around the stiff peak, and then immediately sucking it back into my mouth. Reaching around her back, I unclasp her bra, and toss it in the same direction her shirt went. And with her completely bare to me from the waist up, I take full advantage, my mouth shifting over to her other full tit. My teeth scrape along her pert nipple while my fingers pinch and twist her other.

My hand returns to her thigh, dragging up her leggings until I reach her warm, wet center. She rocks into my touch as I start to rub her there, needing more contact than I can give her with the barrier of cotton between us. Abandoning her nipple, I use both hands to grasp the seam of her leggings at the crotch, and then in one swift motion, tear it apart, shredding the fabric and making her gasp in surprise.

I continue to feast on her tits while I pull her thong to the side and start rubbing her clit. She hums in pleasure, her nails scraping down the fabric of my shirt before she balls it up in her fists and rips it up and over my head.

“Asher, I need you.”

I smile against her skin as I trail up to her mouth. “How much?” I ask, staring into her dark, green eyes just as I shove two fingers inside her.

“Ah!” she cries, her eyelids flickering, fighting the urge to close. I slide my fingers in and out of her dripping wet pussy while my thumb plays with her clit.

“So much,” she pants, her nails digging into my good shoulder. She’s a volcano, already so close to erupting, always so fucking responsive to everything I do. I’ll never tire of her. I’ll always want—need—more of her. And with that, I need her so irrevocably lost in me that nothing else matters but us and this.

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