I pressed my cheek to the hard plane of his chest. His warmth grounded me, dissolving anxiety until I could breathe again.
“He doesn’t know,” I murmured. “He would’ve punished me if he did.”
Ash kissed my forehead. “That’s what I fear most. We need to be careful, mi niña.”
I wasn’t afraid of punishment. What terrified me was him getting caught. He had everything to lose. Racing wasn’t just a sport—it was his world.
His lips brushed below my ear, then slid down my neck, savoring. Heat flared, nerves sparking at the wet trail of his mouth.
I wanted him everywhere—even where only my own hands had touched. My grip tightened on his biceps as I closed my eyes, surrendering. It was too easy to get lost, too impossible to resist, especially when his thumb slipped beneath the cotton of my shorts, circling my inner thigh.
He drew me closer, one arm locking around my waist, his mouth moving from my neck to my shoulder in soft, playful bites.
His thumb edged higher. My breath faltered. Then, as if realizing he’d crossed a line only he cared about, Asher stilled. He pulled his hand free and pressed his forehead to mine with a sigh. “You looked beautiful tonight. Hard not to stare. You were the only good thing about that fucking gala. And I think”—his gaze flicked to the door—“I’m putting a lock on this fucking room whether your father likes it or not.”
A giggle escaped me. “So you can kiss me?”
He brushed the tip of my nose, humming. “I will anyway.”
He nipped my bottom lip before sealing his mouth over mine. I could’ve stayed like that forever, though with him I always feared time was short.
“I came to see you for a reason,” I whispered when he finally pulled back.
Ash eased away just enough to study me. “Tell me.”
“We didn’t get to dance tonight, and someone said you’re a great dancer.”
His hands cupped my cheeks as he kissed me again, the amused glint in his eyes betraying him. “Maybe that someone lied.”
“Maybe we should find out. Give me your hand.”
He frowned when I set one of my earbuds in his palm. “You want to dance with me?”
His smile broke wide as he shook his head. “For real?”
“Okay, you don’t want to.” I stepped back, teasing. “Guess I’ll go. Nice meeting you.”
He burst out laughing, then snagged my wrist and tugged me effortlessly back into his arms. “Not a chance. I’m not letting you go. I’ll pick a song.”
Once we slipped the earbuds in, he scrolled through my music app. “This one.”
He set the phone on the bed, and I looped my arms around his neck as his circled my waist.
“It’s in Spanish,” I said when the male singer began.
Asher hummed, his palm gliding up my spine. “And I love that you’ll know what it says.”
The lyrics spoke of being certain about a future with her—about her scent, her embrace—and each line gave me the reassurance I craved.
Heat spread beneath the thin cotton of my tee as Ash kept stroking me while we swayed. When the chorus swelled, he pressed his mouth to mine, and I kissed him back, shameless and greedy.
Even when the song ended, neither of us moved. Asher held me close, and I wished he’d never let go.
“Kaia,” he whispered.
Something in his tone—sudden, serious—made me lift my gaze. “What?”
“I promise one day we won’t need to hide. Every dance will be ours, peque.”
