His head tilts. "Necessary for what, Grace?"
"For believability," I say quickly. "For the…arrangement."
"The arrangement. Right." His fingers tap against his jaw, considering me.
"I'm serious. What happened earlier… that wasn't part of the deal."
Asher rises from his chair slowly, circling his desk until he's standing close enough that I can smell his cologne again. Not touching me, but near enough that my body remembers exactly how his hands felt.
"The deal, Miss Morgan, is that we convince the world we're in love." His voice is low, controlled, and he crouches down so we're eye to eye. "Chemistry isn't something you can schedule for public appearances only."
I press my back into the seat, needing more distance. "That doesn't mean we need to practice when no one's watching."
"Doesn't it?" One eyebrow lifts slightly. "Tell me something. Do you think we’ll just be able to fake that we’re madly in love with each other if you’re not used to being around me, to being touched by me?”
“Maybe I would be used to being around you if you were here!” I shout back, eyes widening at my outburst.
“Is that it, fiancée? Do you want me home for dinner more?”
Yes? Maybe…“I– I– No, that’s not what I meant.”
Asher takes two steps, closing the distance between us, but still leaving enough space that he’s not touching me. “I can do that. You just need to ask me. Ask me for anything you want, and I’ll make it happen.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body.
Do I want him home for dinner? No. I was fine until he came back tonight and invaded my space and kissed me! Now all the lines are blurring, and I can get my thoughts to slow down to truly process them.
“I’m… fine,” I choke out.
He blows out a long breath. “We have chemistry, Grace. That’s a good thing. But I want you to be comfortable. You can’t flinch when I touch you in public, and clearly, something about this makes you uneasy. We need to practice. And maybe that does mean I need to spend more time with you.”
“I’ll be fine. We’ll figure it out.”
Asher looks at me skeptically, but he doesn’t push me any further as I stand from the chair, my body brushing his as I move past him.
“I’m just gonna go to bed. Goodnight.”
And then I scurry out of his office as fast as I can, locking myself in my room.
I can do this.
At least that's what I keep telling myself. Even though my body is still buzzing from his touch, leaving me wondering what it would feel like to have more of it.
12
ASHER
Grace Morgan is meant to be submissive.
She just doesn't know it yet.
And you shouldn't be the person to show her the ropes.
I scrub a hand over my jaw. The point of this fake marriage is for me to take over the company, not get my dick wet.
But now I have a cute little submissive living in my home and strutting around in skimpy pajama shorts.
God, those pajama shorts. The easy access for me to trail my fingers under, feel her heated flesh.
