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“Okay.” I rub my shoulder as I try to capture my whirring thoughts and fit them into a box that isn’t spinning. “Okay. Let’s back-track. Start from what you remember.”
She smacks her lips together.
She’s panicking.
I can see it in her eyes.
But she’s still here. She could have run out by now. Snuck away while I wasn’t watching. But she’s in bed. Screaming at me. Willing to hash it out. Piece the night back together.
That means she must trust me on some level, right?
I don’t want to let her down.
Damn.
I hope the story we uncover isn’t as crazy as it looks right now.
Asia reaches back and gathers up her hair. Pulling it over one shoulder, she sucks in a long, audible breath. “Where do I begin?”
“Start with when you came to Vegas,” I say.
As far as I remember, she wasn’t on the private charter with the rest of the gang. There were a ton of Make It Marriage people on Brendon’s jet, but there is no way I would have missed Asia.
“Okay.” She takes another calming breath. The muscles in her stiff shoulders relax a bit. Her bottom lip slips into her mouth and she begins to chew on it slowly.
My eyes land there, staring at her bruised lips.
And, suddenly, I remember kissing her.
Late last night.
In the shadows.
On the bed.
The memory flashes into me like a hot brand.
Asia’s tongue warring with mine.
Her sweet breath hitting my face.
Slender fingers digging into my back.
Her moans getting lost deep in my throat.
Heat stabs my heart.
I remember her groans like it’s my favorite song. Hottest sounds I ever heard.
My body stirs.
Desire spreads down south.
I ignore the throbbing as best as I can.
Now is not the freaking time. We have bigger things to worry about.
Like where the hell that wedding ring came from.
