Page 81 of Addiction

“Don’t,” he growls, eyes still closed.

“Knowing you’re curious to know what it would be like to be with me.”

“Stop.”

But I can’t.

“What it would be like to kiss me?”

“You’re wrong.” He pushes me harder against the door, but I don’t stop. I can’t. I want him to falter. I want him to fucking kiss me.

“It’s okay to want this, Asher,” I whisper. “I’m right here.”

The heat of his body against mine is driving me crazy, my dick hard against the zipper of my jeans. I’m too far gone to even think straight with him being this close, any gay man would be, yet instead of letting him find me when he’s ready, I entice him more.

“Kiss me, Asher,” I murmur against his lips. “You know you want to.”

Like my words have pierced his heart for all the wrong reasons, his body stiffens under my touch, and he pushes off me as if I’m toxic. His eyes are wide, haunted, and all the color drains from his face.

Neither of us move. Neither of us speak as I watch him slowly change and see a vulnerability in him I don’t like to witness. I’m powerless to help. A crease forms between his brows with confusion and as he stands in front of me, I slowly see him begin to fall apart.

“Asher,” I whisper, reaching out to him, but he only moves further back. His breathing has changed to a point of almost hyperventilating as tears fill his eyes.

“No,” he whispers, looking down at the palms of his hands. “I can’t do this again. I… I can’t go there again.”

“Go where?” I say softly. “Talk to me.”

Whoever is standing in front of me now is not the Asher I’ve come to know, and not the man who just had me pinned against the wall. Something is very wrong here, but before I can reach out to him, he does the one thing he’s always good at.

He bolts.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Asher

“Kiss me, Asher. You know you want to.”

You know you want to...

You know you want to…

The walls spin as I head out of the restroom. The further I walk toward the bar, the more my mind returns to that day on the battlefield. The harrowing sound of gunfire. The bodies that fell one by one.

Him.

“Don’t let me die. Don’t let me die. Asher. Please. Don’t let me die.”

With shaky legs, I push past those around the crowded bar and fall onto a barstool, gripping hold of the bar’s hardwood to stay grounded whilst ignoring the call of my name from people I care little for. My chest is excruciatingly tight, the burn in my body unbearable as I wipe away my unshed tears.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t think.

I need it to stop.

But all I see now is Wade. Feeling him against me. Hearing his words.

Everything races around my head. Past and present flash before me.