Asher rested his forehead against my shoulder, his breath sweeping across my chest as I held him tight to me, rolling his head side to side. “Nothing. Nothing is better than this.”
His hips worked at a frenzied pace, his cock sinking deep, somehow knowing I wanted it fast and hard.
“I don’t know…I think Corinne and Macy were angling for a threesome. That might’ve been better.”
“You think I’d want anyone else but you? Any other pussy but this one that fits my cock like it was made for me?” He thrust as deep as he could, grinding the base of his erection against my clit, whether in punishment for suggesting such a thing or purely for the pleasure, I didn’t know. “There could’ve been a whole harem lined up, and I wouldn’t have been tempted. It sure as fuck wouldn’t have compared to this.”
“That’s an awfully tall order.”
“Yeah, well, I’m your husband, so that means I get to make that call.”
A roller coaster set up camp in my stomach, flipping my insides and turning them this way and that. I didn’t want to think about why I loved the thought of him wearing my ring…why I loved him having the title of my husband…why I loved when he called me his wife.
Needing to distract myself from that, I reached between us, fingering my clit as he continued driving deep.
He groaned. “Lift that dress out of the way so I can see that pussy you’re claimin’ me with.”
“Fuck, Asher,” I breathed, my body tightening more with each passing second.
“If you’re worried about two women whose names I’ve already forgotten, maybe you need a reminder of who I’m fucking right now. Who’s gonna be in my bed tonight. Who’s wearin’ my ring. Mywife.”
The rough, possessive way he said the words shot straight through me, and I groaned, moving my fingers faster against my clit, my breath speeding up.
“Though God knows I’d be jealous as fuck if I found two guys hoverin’ around you, just hopin’ for a chance to feel what I’m feelin’ right now.”
I bit my lip, my body tightening at his words and his thrusts. At the possessive way he gripped my ass, holding me up as he drove into me. “I’m not the musician who’s every woman’s wet dream.”
“No, you’re just every man’s.”
My breaths sped up, eyes fluttering. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Am I your wet dream, Ash?”
He groaned and slammed his hips into me, the friction detonating a shock wave in my body. We came together in a crash of lips and tongues and flesh, my body pulsing around him as we found our releases.
“Every fucking night,” he said, breathless, still seated fully inside me. “Thought that went unsaid.”
That was the trouble, though. All the things that had gone unsaid between us.
Asher had always been the one I could confide in about anything. The one who’d talked me down at three in the morning, or who’d listened to me vent about my daddy or sisters. The one who’d rushed to my side whenever I’d needed anything at all, code word or not.
But I hadn’t told him this whole thing had started to feel a little too real. Hadn’t told him I’d lain awake in bed, counting down the days to the custody hearing because it meant we were that much closer to this being over. I hadn’t told him I’d grown used to this life. That I’d actually come to like it.
And I sure as hell hadn’t told him I was pretty sure I was falling in love with my fake husband.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
ASHER
I wasn’tsure my life had ever seen this much turmoil. I’d had the ideal childhood, two parents who’d had a happy marriage and who’d loved me despite me showing up ten years after they’d decided not to have any more kids. I’d had an older sister who’d irritated the hell out of me but loved me fiercely. I was the fun uncle. The one who could swoop in with noisy toys and too much sugar and leave when things got difficult.
Now, my momma and dad were gone, as well as my sister, and I’d just come from therapy with my four-year-old niece to help her get over her parents’ deaths.
Going into the appointment, I hadn’t known what to expect, but it definitely hadn’t been playing games the entirety of the hour. Beverly, June’s therapist, had assured me that was the best way in her experience to get kids to open up and talk about what was really bothering them. Since June was so young, she may not be able to articulate her emotions, but they often came out in play. I just had to be patient.
Regardless, it gave me something to think about other than this thing between me and Nat. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. I’d lived the past ten years of my life thinking I’d been able to brush away that blip of a crush I’d had on her. It had beena nonissue. Something I had happily cast aside if it meant our friendship would remain intact. Back then, I hadn’t been willing to jeopardize it for a kiss in the back of a pickup truck.
