Page 65 of Asher


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“I would never ask you to,” he said.

“But I’m not exactly the socialite page’s idea of who should be on your arm, either. I wear sundresses, retro dresses, or sweats. I own maybe six pieces of jewelry and most of them are bookish themed. I have a one-bedroom apartment that I can barely keep clean between deadlines, and I think of candy and coffee as their own food groups.” I sighed, waving an arm at him. He looked so damn gorgeous with his first five shirt-buttons unbuttoned, his tie discarded in his hamper across the room, hazel eyes on me, giving me the floor to speak. “And you’re whole, organic, perfection. You shouldn’t feel judged because of who you’re with.” And I hated that was happening. That simply being with me was making his family question his thought process.

Asher tilted his head, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “I don’t give a fuck about what anyone else thinks,” he said, his tone low and rough.

I raised my brows at the tone, heat sizzling down my spine.

“Daisy…” he said more gently, something serious churning in his eyes.

My heart raced, seeing the words climbing in his throat. The declaration he would make just to make me understand how much I meant to him. The promises he would make to ensure I never felt judged again.

But I couldn’t let him make such promises. Because I could see what he couldn’t.

That we had an expiration date, one where he’d realize how I don’t fit into his life and he didn’t fit into mine. And that truth threatened to break my heart, but I shoved that aside until the actual moment we broke.

For now?

I just wanted to be with him.

So, I leapt onto the bed, crossing it until I launched into his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist. He caught me effortlessly, holding me against him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding his gaze as we were now face to face.

“Say it again,” I whispered against his lips. “The part where you don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

“I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks,” he growled before slanting his mouth over mine.

I sighed between his lips, tangling my fingers in his hair as he shifted us, laying me gently on the bed. He settled between my thighs, never breaking our kiss, like he could somehow erase the entire night with the power of his mouth.

He was certainly close. Hearing him say those words, feeling his searing kiss, it was almost enough to make me believe nothing could touch us, break us.

And I dove into that delusion, giving myself over wholly to Asher because he’d owned my heart for months now, anyway.

Asher broke our kiss, rising above me enough to trail his eyes the length of my body. Slowly, he grazed his fingers down my arms until he reached the end of my shirt and gently pulled it over my head. My pants were next, but he left me in my bra and panties, eyes drinking me in as he stood up and finished unbuttoning his shirt, then dropping his pants. I eyed him right back, my entire body reacting to the sight of him even though I’d seen him like this so many times before. The way his smooth skin stretched over his corded muscles, the way his black boxer-briefs did nothing to hide what was hard and aching for me. The way his eyes churned as he looked down at me, all greens and golds.

There was something different about the way he was looking at me, something new. A sort of gentleness added to our need for each other, and it threatened to fill my heart so much I wouldn’t be able to breathe around it.

Asher climbed back on the bed, lowering his mouth to my breasts, teasing me over the lace. He kissed lower, over my stomach and my hips, down my thighs and back up again. Raising chills everywhere he went, and making me arch off the bed as he slid his hands everywhere his lips touched too.

And then he turned me over so fast I gasped, his lips trailing down my spine before pausing to unclasp my bra. I sat up slightly to slide it off, then gasped again when Asher flicked his tongue between my shoulder blades, working his way down until he gripped my panties and slid them down my legs, baring me to him. He kissed the globes of my ass, his hands grazing over my spine and down, one of them slipping underneath me to tease me between my thighs.

I arched upward, giving him better access, and he slipped his fingers through my heat, gliding inside me with ease.

“Fuck, Daisy,” he groaned, his mouth teasing its way up my spine again. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”

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