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"There's a hot tub," I say, pushing my nose against the glass door, eyeing the massive hot tub sitting on the deck outside.
"Getting naked outside in the freezing cold sounds like a dream," Asher grunts sarcastically. Walking forward, he side-eyes me until stopping in front of the glass.
For several minutes we stand in silence, taking in the beauty of our new home for the week. Asher nibbles his lip, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. Clearing his throat, he scoots closer until we're shoulder to shoulder. Something sparks between our connection and heat encompasses my face.
Looking up into his gorgeous hazel eyes, something about him strikes me as different. His shoulders sag lower—almost in relief. His hard-as-stone face softens, letting his genuine emotions peek through the dark veil.
"How're you feeling, Little Brat?" he asks with a hint of concern, searching the yellowing bruises on my face with twisting anguish.
"Concerned about me, Evil Ash?" I jokingly say, shoving my shoulder lightly into his until he smiles. "But I'm fine," I say, shrugging it off.
I'm still on my pain meds and only have one day left of the antibiotics, so I'm looking forward to finishing it all. The tiny pills are a constant reminder of my attack. Each and every time I swallow them down, the memories replay on repeat. Once the bruises fade and the pain meds are gone, it'll be like it never happened. Only it did happen. But from my experience, I've learned how to heal and slowly move on. Not entirely, but I'll get there knowing this won't break me.
"Fuck it. I got you something," he says quickly, shaking his head.
My heart pounds against my ribs when he removes his hand from his pocket and holds it out. The room spins, and my heart leaps from my chest. Sitting in the middle of his palm is my most prized possession that the cops refused to give back to me. I fought and fought with them, telling them I needed it to protect myself, but it was evidence of a crime, and they could not hand it over until all the proceedings were finished.
And now, here it sits right before my eyes, shiny and looking brand new. Last I saw, dark, red blood stained every inch from stabbing stupid Bradley.
Tears prickle at the backs of my eyes. "Asher." My voice comes out rough, clogged with so many emotions.
The tip of my nose burns, and my eyes cloud over as I stroke the name carved into the knife I've held dear for more than ten years. It's my lifesaver, the one thing that saved me when a maniac thought he could take what he wanted, sending him right into the arms of the cops. There was no denying what he had done to me this time. They couldn't push it under the rug and laugh me away. This time, they listened to every word I had to say, wrote it down, and took me seriously. So seriously, Bradley sits behind bars with no bail available to get him out. After he recovered from his stab wound, that is.
"Don't even mention it, Little Brat," he says, clearing his throat and keeping his eyes on the turbulent waters in front of us.
"Thank you," I murmur, leaning up to kiss his cheek and linger, basking in the feel of his skin beneath my lips. He stiffens, taking a deep breath. "This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a long time. How?"
Taking my chin between his thumb and index finger, he backs me against the windows, pressing his entire body into mine, letting me feel the planes on every inch of him. Standing tall above me, he pauses and takes in the length of my body in with one swoop. I swallow hard, staring into the abyss of his turbulent eyes filled with deep longing.
My breath shudders when his hip presses into mine. Chest to chest, we breathe each other's air, practically gasping for it. For one split second, thoughts of Asher giving in to the desperate craving surrounding us for months. It chokes me when I breathe. And he’s the oxygen I ache for. Dangling like a sweet treat in front of my face, it rests there like a temptation out of grasp and forbidden from touching. The closest we’ve dared was the night on the Ferris Wheel. That dark scene plays on a shrine in the back of my mind. Whenever my fingers slip beneath my panties, it’s their faces watching me work my clit in circles.
"I have my ways," he murmurs in a low, raspy voice, keeping the details locked tight behind his luscious lips. Leaning in a little, he's a breath away from me—a millimeter from pressing his lips into mine. "Make it up to me later, Little Brat. You can even call me daddy.” The last words leave his wicked tongue on nothing but a murmur, barely audible against my flesh. It’s a promise, sealed with a tiny peck on my cheek.
Fuck. I swallow my moan lodged in the back of my throat. Every inch of me throbs, aching for this man who's mercilessly flirted with me the more time has passed. Shivers roll through me when the faintest kiss presses to the edge of my mouth, and my eyes flutter shut on instinct, leaning into the feel of him. As quickly as the warmth of his kiss presses against me, his body vanishes, replaced by the frigid planes of the window pressing into my back.
"What the hell?" I groan out of frustration, curling my fingers into a fist.
Kieran's chuckle comes from somewhere beside me, and my body sags, letting all the frustrations go. "Oh, River Blue. We've got plans for you this week."
Promises. Promises. The whole way down here, Rad went on and on about his plans for me this week.
“Oh, Pretty Girl,” Rad whispers directly in my ear, wrapping his fingers around my throat. “I’m going to fuck you within an inch of your life. I’m going to flood your pussy with so much come, and you’ll feel me leaking out of you for a week.” My breath hitches when he grins, kissing my cheek and tightening his grip. “Yeah, I thought you might like that. We’re going to have so much fun this weekend,” he murmurs in a deep, husky voice thick with lust.
Rad wasn’t the only one to whisper sweet nothings into my ear, working me up and letting me flatline in the land of almost orgasming. Over and over, they teased and primed me for this exact moment to finally let me detonate. I knew every whispered word they promised would eventually come true—well, later. Asher had zero plans to help the ache between my legs right now.
"What the hell was that?" I whisper through my frustrations, searching for Asher amongst the shadows of the house.
If his touch hadn't seared into my skin five seconds ago, branding me with his fingertips, I would have sworn he was a ghost passing by.
"Don't mind him. He's fighting a lot of feelings right now," Kieran whispers, taking me into the warmth of his arms, and rests his cheek on my head with a satisfied sigh.
"Fighting what?" I murmur, placing my ear against his heartbeat and basking in the familiarity of it.
"Everything about you. You scare him. This band is the only thing he has, and here you are, bringing us happily to our knees. He's afraid to fall. He's afraid you'll tear us apart,” Kieran murmurs, leaning into me more. “But don’t worry, River Blue. Asher’s coming around, and once he does, you’ll be all he thinks about and obsesses over. I can see it now.” A grin tips up the edges of his lips, and he nods with certainty that it will all play out how he says.
But half of me disagrees as a lump forms in my throat at Kieran’s nonchalant confession.He’s afraid you’ll tear us apart. Tear them apart? Whispered Words? They’re tighter than any family I’ve ever witnessed. There’s no way little old me would come close to being a threat. The boys are more than a band; they're a damn family unit. Has my presence disrupted that in any way? Am I doing more harm than good by being so close to each of them?
"That's stupid," I murmur, shaking my head. "I don't plan on breaking anyone up."
