It takes me a minute to comprehend what just happened, and then my well-fucked expression turns to anger.
Shoving Asher back, I stand abruptly as he falls back on his arse, and I storm out of the living area, down the back hallway, and into the laundry room.
My ears pick up Asher’s footsteps behind me, and I turn toface him as he steps inside with me, before I pull my arm back and slam my fist into his face.
The pain in my knuckles is welcome, and if I thought my hit would deter Asher, then I was dead fucking wrong.
His tongue darts out to lick over the small split in his lower lip, and his gaze darkens.
“Woman, you are only making me harder. Do it again.”
“Asher. Stop!” I hiss through gritted teeth, and he smirks, shaking his head as he steps forward, caging me against the washing machine.
“I’ll never stop worshipping you, Lily. Save your breath.”
I shove him, but he holds strong.
“You shouldn’t have done that. Not there with the twins right next to us.”
He shrugs. “They weren’t gonna wake up. They’re beat from going to a party last night. You know how heavily they sleep.”
“That’s not the point.” I glare at him, andstillhe gives me a lazy smirk before flicking his tongue out and running it over his lips like he is tasting something.
Is everything a game to him?
“Asher, I don’t want to do those things while they areright there.”
“Wanna taste?” he asks, ignoring my words, and I frown, looking back to his lips. “You’re like a sweet treat. Delectable and worth savouring.”
“Christ,” I mutter, and he leans in to claim my lips.
I do taste myself on him, and all it does is rile me up again, filling me with a need I can’t seem to sate for long when he’s around.
My surroundings come back to me, reminding me to pull my head in and take control of the situation, so I push him away, breaking our kiss.
“You need to behave!” I point sternly at him, and still he smirks. “I mean it, Asher. Stop trying to fool around with me while my sons are there. You think it’s just a game, but it’s not. It’s real and could destroy my family.”
His smirk falls. “Fuck.” He takes a step back. And then another.
My heart sinks.
What I said to him is a very real possibility, yet as he backs away, I can’t help but ache for him to come back. It has nothing to do with the insatiable bitch between my legs. It’s more than that, and for the first time I recognise the feeling for what it is.
My heart wants him, yet there’s no reality where we can be together like that. We cannevergo out on dates, attend barbeques as a couple, get married, and, hell, even have kids together.
Heat pricks at the back of my eyes. I should let him go. Retreat. Keep my distance… yet I can’t.
Stepping forward, I reach out into the hallway and clutch his shirt, hauling him back inside with me, claiming his lips.
He comes to me willingly, our lips locking with a different kind of desperation. One that screams and yells, yet no one but the two of us can hear it. It’s brutal and heartbreaking and hell… it’s everything.
“I’m sorry.” Asher breathes into my mouth as he starts to pull back. “I know this isn’t a game. I just get so consumed with need when I’m around you. It won’t happen again.”
We pull back only far enough to press our foreheads together and peer into each other’s eyes.
“It doesn’t mean I don’t want you,” I tell him, a tear finally springing from my eye. “Because I do, Asher. So bad. But my sons…”
“I know,” he rasps quietly, his thumb coming up to catch my tear before he leans back and tastes it on his digit.
