I rubbed in circles, closer and closer to the edge—until Asher’s hands slid under my ass. He lifted me, moved me to the bed. “On your hands and knees,” he commanded.
A shiver shot through me. I couldn’t see him in this position, but his heat pressed behind me. He slid back in, and a whimper tore from my throat.
“Keep touching yourself.” He kissed a path up my spine, pressing me down until my cheek met the pillow. His hands locked on my hips, thrusting harder, matching the glide of my fingers against my clit.
“Don’t stop,” he panted. “Not until I tell you.”
Pressure coiled in my core. I clenched around him, and he groaned, his rhythm stuttering.
I rubbed faster, slicking my wetness over my clit.
“Ash,” I whimpered into the pillow. Spasms racked me, one after another, my body clenching, tears slipping free.
Abruptly, he pulled out and rolled me onto my back. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he kissed the tears from my cheeks and drove into me again, my climax still rippling through me.
“So good.” His thrusts turned ragged, self-control unraveling. “So fucking good.”
I grabbed his face and kissed him—hungry, messy, full of trust. Love.
Asher tensed, body shuddering with release. With a groan, he came inside me. I threaded my fingers through his sweat-damp hair, rubbed his slick back, soothed him until I felt his smile against my neck.
He pulled out slowly, then gathered me close, arms strong around me. For a few quiet moments, I lay in his embrace, my head tucked beneath his chin, his hands gliding over my curves. I still felt him inside me. My heart still raced, fueled by enough adrenaline to last for hours.
“Te amo,” Asher whispered.
I kissed his jaw. “Yo más.”
“And you said I needed luck.” His gaze softened. “I don’t, peque. I only need you.”
FEBRUARY 24TH
The racing season crept up on us. Tomorrow Asher is flying to Spain for the first round of the world championship, and I can’t shake the anxiety.
We’re solid. We’ll be fine. My schedule is packed with classes and work.
But I’ll miss him. I’ll worry. My heart will leap each time he rounds a corner, and I’ll hold my breath until the race is over.
I’m staying at his place tonight, and even though I hate goodbyes, I won’t miss the chance to say mine.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Kaia
Alba was waiting for me outside the dance studio downtown, a gray knit beanie pulled over her hair, a matching scarf snug at her neck.
“Sorry I made you wait,” I said, buttoning my coat. The days were growing warmer, but Emerport’s humidity had a way of making the air feel colder than the thermometer claimed.
“It’s okay.” She slid her hands into the pockets of her parka. “It was only a few minutes. How was class?”
“Benji made me laugh with his Harlem Shake,” I said as we headed toward the marina. Asher lived nearby, and I planned to go to his place after the walk with Alba. “He was so clumsy and cute, but he’s doing great.”
“Those kids are lucky to have you,” Alba said. “You’re so patient.”
She’d come to class once and decided not everyone could teach kids, but in her words, I was made for it.
“They just need room to make mistakes and learn from them,” I said, flinching as an icy gust from the ocean stung my face. “It’s harder to learn through fear than encouragement. Ask me how I know.”
Alba looped her arm through mine. “Did you hear from him?”
