Page 95 of Irresistibly Risky

“This tiny thing is a total insult to Thor.” And frankly, I always think of Lenox as Thor. Large, muscular, blonde, saves the world like a goddamn superhero… it’s who he is.

She shrugs indifferently. “Not to me, it isn’t. He’s fantasy material.”

I frown disparagingly. “I look nothing like him.”

“A tragedy I cry myself to sleep over every night.”

I bark out a laugh. Christ, this woman and her fucking mouth. I bring the vibrator up to her nipple and press it in, pinching the other with my good hand. A punishment the little minx loves far too much.

“What other secret toys do you have in your arsenal?” I ask as I swirl the toy around her nipple in a circle.

She hums in pleasure, her hips grinding on my thighs ever so slightly, almost as if she’s not even aware she’s doing it. “He’s the only one.”

“No Avengers set of pleasure dicks? We’ll have to change that. And of course, name them all Asher. But for now…”

I let that hang in the air between us as I glide the pink bullet down the underside of her breast, down the sloped dip of her stomach, and into the water. Her eyes spark with fire, and her full lips part to accommodate her heavy breaths as the toy reaches the top of her mound.

“You’re so beautiful, my queen.” My other hand runs along her tits, up her throat, across her jaw, and into her wet hair that’s knotted on top of her head. I grip it by the roots and then drag her forehead to mine. “One day, when I’ve finally managed to convince you that you can’t live without me, I’m going to marry you.”

She starts to roll her eyes, but they end up rolling in the back of her head when I press the vibrator on her clit. “Not a chance.”

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s where you’re wrong. You may not be there yet, but I already know you’re the one for me. When you’re ready, I’m going to tell you just how in love with you I am.”

Her eyes shoot open, her face a delightfully twisted display of intense pleasure and shocked consternation. I smile, no longer caring if she’s the tortoise and I’m the hare. Today our son called me dada, and I’m done taking it slow.

“I love you,” I tell her, pulling the toy back so she hears me. “I know it’s ridiculously too soon. I know you’re not even halfway there with me. I know I’m the last guy you want. But I’m telling you, I love you. And it’s not because of Mason. I love you more because of him. I looked into your eyes that night in the club, and there was something about you that immediately stole a piece of me, and since you came back into my life, that’s all you seem to do.”

She blinks at me, her eyes rounding as a different sort of blush takes over her features. “You really love me?” Her voice is a shaky whisper.

“I really love you.”

She lets that sit, her mind working overtime to try and absorb that. Or maybe argue it, but she’s staring into my eyes, and she can see that I meant every word as I hold nothing of myself back.

“Poor bastard,” she finally murmurs, a quirked half-smile pulling up the edge of her lips. Her hand comes up, running along my smooth jaw and through my hair, where she cups the back of my head, holding me tighter against her. Our mouths layer as her nose runs back and forth against mine.

I lick the seam of her lips and then nip at her jaw. “Maybe. But remember this, my ice queen, I play to win, and I never lose. You’re mine now.”

“Is that so?” She gasps when I press the toy directly back on her swollen clit.

“Sweetheart, you’re about to learn all the dirty ways I play this game.”

27

Asher loves me. While the cynical, scarred side of me wants to dismiss that, the rest of me refuses. Asher loves me and I believe him. I see it in his eyes and feel it in his every action. I knew it today when we were in the pool and Mason called him dada. I could continue to push back. I could continue to hold my ground and maintain my distance.

But why would I do that?

Why would I fight back when I have a man like Asher Reyes fighting for me?

I don’t want the scars of my past to mar my future any longer.

Asher is holding the back of my head, and I’m holding the back of his. Our foreheads are one, as are our lips. He still has my fun little toy pressed to my clit, and maybe this isn’t the time to say it with him doing that to me, but he deserves to know the truth—and he deserves to know it now.

With my eyes holding his, I swallow down my nerves and say, “I love you.”

He freezes, his entire body growing still. I don’t even think he’s breathing. Finally, he utters, “You mean that?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

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