Page 82 of On One Condition

His body is warm beneath me, and the summer night air has the slightest hint of a welcome chill to it.

He kisses me back with the same gentle demand that I do him. His hands are in my hair, on my cheeks, cupping my face. Our tongues dance against one another’s, and our bodies heat up as we make out in the moonlight between the lavender rows.

“Asher,” he murmurs against my lips, a reverent sigh between kisses.

Leaning back, I strip my shirt over my head, wanting to feel the intimacy that comes when his hand runs over my skin. Needing to feel it.

I look down at him, my moonlight boy, and know this is my favorite look on him. Eyes heavy with desire and his smile soft and a little crooked.

“What?” he asks.

“I just want to look at you.” I lean down and press a kiss to his lips. To his chin. To his neck. “I need to touch you, Ledger,” I murmur against his skin. My hand runs down the front of his chest. “To taste you.” My lips follow their descent as I crawl back to where his cock is hard and pressed against the seam of his jeans. His stomach muscles tighten beneath my lips when I make quick work of his zipper, free his cock, and stroke it with my hand. “To devour you.”

The hiss of his breath fills the night air as I slide his cock between my lips and take him all the way to the back of my throat. His thighs tense. His guttural groan is the only thing I hear as he reaches down and cups my chin.

I look up at him through the moonlight night as his eyes turn dark and his eyelids grow heavy with desire. And with my gaze locked on his, I give him the pleasure he deserves. With my tongue licking over his crest and my lips suctioning around his shaft and my hands stroking every thick, hard inch of him.

It’s a heady feeling sucking Ledger off. To know that drop of precum that hits my tongue is because of me. To watch a man usually so measured in his actions, lose himself in the sensations I create.

“Ash.” My name is a strained rasp in the night as he fights to hang on to his control, and I provoke him to let go.

By letting his cock hit the back of my throat. By using my fingers to work their magic around the base of his shaft. By humming to add a vibration to the onslaught of sensations I’m already creating for him.

He hardens and swells as his hand moves to my hair and fists there.

I suck harder and stroke faster, my own body aching for his release so he can shift his focus on me. So I can enjoy this body of his.

Because when it comes to Ledger, I can’t seem to ever get enough. Not his touch. Not the sounds he makes when he’s about to come. Not the way he makes me feel, physically and emotionally.

“Ash.” He struggles in indecision. “Fuck.” One hand still in my hair. “Yes.” The other hand pulling on my arm for me to come ride him. “Now.”

A yelp escapes my mouth as he hauls me up and makes quick work of my jeans in an awkward dance of desperation and laughter, all while trying to kiss the breath out of me.

It’s my turn now to moan in ecstasy. At the way he stretches me when I sink down ever so slowly onto him. At the feeling of fullness he creates. At the ever-burning ache that I fear will never be sated.

“Ledge . . . so good,” I murmur against his lips as his fingers dig into the flesh at my hips while I adjust to him.

“Good God, you’re going to be the death of me,” he groans out.

I begin to rock my hips.

At least I can ensure he dies a happy man, then.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Ledger

“The protestors are back again,” Hillary says when she pokes her head in my office.

“Seriously?” I barely even glance up from my laptop. That’s how much I don’t fucking care about who’s protesting now. “What do their signs say this time?”

“Let me see.” Hillary moves to my window and peeks down below. “Preserve our lakefront is one. No unions here, which is rather comical considering there isn’t a union happening. Big city greed means small-town ruin. Wow,” she says as she turns to look at me with raised eyebrows. “That’s a new one.”

“Rather catchy, don’t you think?” I lean back in my chair and try to switch gears from Takashi getting squirrely on details to the debacle front and center. “Is there a website they go to find these slogans?”

“Who knows. Catchphrase.R.Us perhaps?”

“How about GoFuckYourself.com.”