For a while, there’s just the slick, sticky heat of our bodies. My skin buzzing, heart still stampeding, his arm heavy yet perfect where it’s slung across my waist. I don’t want to move. Ever. I want to melt right here into the mattress and let Asher watch me with that dark, shattered look on his face forever.
But then he sits upright, pressing a kiss to my shoulder as he moves. I shiver at the gentle scratch of his stubble against my skin. I could drown so easily in this feeling.
He mutters something I don’t catch before he slips out from underneath me and disappears into the darkness of the room. For a second, panic spikes – I don’t want this to end. Not yet. I’m not ready, but then I hear the soft click of the bathroom door and water running. I watch him from whereI’m sprawled, boneless, on the bed: Asher, gloriously, gloriously naked, back and shoulders gleaming in the half-light of the bathroom.
He returns a moment later with a towel, warm and steamy from the tap. He doesn’t say anything. Just kneels over me, gaze locked to mine, and wipes the mess off my stomach and chest with the gentlest touch I’ve ever felt. Like I’m precious. Like he wants to worship every part of me. Like he’d never get bored if we were to stay locked up in this room for the rest of our lives.
When he finishes, he tosses the towel aside and crawls back into bed beside me. ‘Come here,’ he says quietly, opening his arms. I shuffle up next to him and curl around his body. His arms wrap around me and pull me in close and it feels like coming home.
Finally.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURImani
Sunlight breaks through a tiny gap in the blackout curtains, rendering them absolutely useless. I groan and tug the thick duvet over my head. There’s a slow, delicious ache pulsing through my thighs as I move. Not pain, exactly, but the floaty, slightly raw feeling that comes from being thoroughly fucked.
I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips as I stretch out in the bed, every muscle in my body singing with the memory of last night. Every time I close my eyes, memories of last night and the way Asher braced himself over me or how perfectly his body fitted against mine take over my mind.
How many times was it in the end? I lost count somewhere around 2am.
I roll onto my side and stretch out, expecting to come into contact with Asher’s body and see if he wants to give round five (or is it six?) a go before we have to face reality again.But my hand just hits empty air. I sit upright abruptly and frown as I peer around the bedroom.
There’s no sign of him.
His side of the bed is empty and cool, like it’s been some time since he was last wrapped up in these sheets with me. The door to the bathroom is open, but it’s dark and there’s no sound of running water to suggest he’s in there.
For a second – or maybe it’s longer than a second, who knows, time suddenly doesn’t feel real – I just sit there. I’m naked and alone in this enormous bed with its million-thread-count sheets and I can’t shake this sick, sour panic that’s spreading through me.
I open my mouth to call out his name, but the sound of raised voices makes me freeze in place.
‘I don’t want to hear another pathetic excuse.’ Georgios Vouvalis’ cold snarl is unmistakable. ‘Just get itdone.’ I can practically see the sneer of disgust on his face.
‘I don’t—’ Asher clearly tries to cut in to defend himself, but he abruptly stops talking and I imagine Georgios holding up a hand to silence him.
‘You don’t what?’ Georgios’ voice is sharp enough to slice through glass. ‘You don’t think you can do it? You don’t think you’re capable? Is that what you’re trying to tell me now?’
The words are ice-cold, laced with so much venom it’s hard to believe this is a father talking to his son. Even after everything my father has put me through these last few months, I don’t think he could ever bring himself to talk to me likethis.
Like he hates him.
Truly,trulyhates him.
I slip out of bed carefully to keep my movements quiet as I reach for something to wear. There’s a pile of our clothes on the floor, but the idea of contorting myself back into my dress from last night isn’t an appealing one, so I opt for Asher’s shirt. The shirt is huge on me and the sleeves hang halfway over my hands, but at least I’m not stark naked anymore.
I creep to the door, push it open a smidge as quietly as I can, and press my ear to the crack. I can’t see them from here, but I don’t need to. Every venomous word Georgios spits out carries perfectly across the suite.
‘You’re an embarrassment, Asher.’ His voice is low now. ‘Nothing but a constant reminder that no matter how much I invest in you, no matter how much I try to teach you or how many chances I give you, you will always find a way to disappoint me.’
There’s a beat of silence that feels like it stretches on forever, then the deep scrape of a chair being pushed back.
‘I’m doing everything you’ve asked,’ Asher says tightly. His voice sounds strained, like it’s taking everything in him not to break. ‘Everything. I’ve done everything you told me to.’
‘And yet,’ Georgios hisses, ‘you still find new and creative ways to fail. Tell me, how exactly am I supposed to trust you with anything important when you can’t even keep a woman in line?’
I flinch.
Keep a woman in line.
Fury rears inside me violently, but I will myself to stay silent.
