“Mine.”
“Hmm,” I moan as he presses into me.
“So, where are you sleeping, November?” He growls and his hand is fisted into the back of my head, his mouth hovering over mine. My eyes flutter open. “Where are you sleeping, baby?” he asks against my mouth.
“With you,” I whisper, feeling powerless against him.
“That’s right. Always with me.” My brain registers his words but before I can make him clarify what he means, his mouth is on mine and my brain goes deeper into the Asher-fog. His kiss feels desperate, like he is branding me with it. When he pulls away, he presses his forehead against mine. I run my hand along his jaw and his eyes open at my touch.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Better,” he says and gives me his cocky grin. He thinks he’s just gotten his way. I want to tell him that I have no problem sleeping with him. The only thing that worries me is that I can be a little clingy. My mom and my ex told me the same thing. They may have told me that so I wouldn’t nag them about where they were going or how long they would be gone. But I know I'm a people person, and if I know someone is around, I want to be where they are. I worry that I might be what my mom and ex say I am, and I never want Asher to feel like I am crowding him.
“Will you promise me something?” I ask.
“What?”
“Just promise that, when you start feeling like I'm around too much, you will let me know.”
“That’s not going to happen,” he says, cupping my cheek. His thumb slides across my lower lip.
“Just promise, okay?” I say again, feeling desperate for him to understand how much this means to me.
“Promise, baby.”
“Thanks.” I grin and he kisses my nose.
“Now, do you want to eat here or do you want to pick up something on the way back to my place?” I bite my lip, thinking about it, and his eyes drop to my mouth.
“Never mind. We’re picking something up.” He bends down and my belly goes into his shoulder as he picks me up and carries me out of the garage.
“Um, I have to go inside and get some stuff,” I say from my upside down position.
“You have shit at my place.”
“I packed everything.” He stops and my feet hit the ground. Luckily, his arms come up to my shoulders or I would have fallen on my ass.
“You packed everything?” he growls.
“I didn’t want you to feel like I was suffocating you,” I say in a huff.
“Don’t do that shit.” His hands go to my neck, his thumbs sweeping under my jaw then his face gets closer to mine. “Unless I tell you I want space, don’t read into non-existing shit and create problems. I swear,” he says, looking into the sky, “if I don’t want you around, I will tell you that shit straight out. No games, no bullshit.”
“Okay,” I whisper, never wanting to hear those words from him.
“Okay, now go pack your shit,” he says and I glare at him.
“Don’t tell me to pack my shit. It’s rude.”
“It’s rude?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. “Baby, I promise you when I get you in my bed, I’ll show you how much you like it when I’m being rude.” This makes me tingle in a couple different spots. I definitely want him to show me how rude he can be. “Just for that look right there, I'm going to make you beg me to be rude to you.”
Oh my God, I just had an orgasm standing outside my dad’s house in the daytime. I look around, hoping no one saw me have a mini orgasm. I know I have to play this off, so I do what any woman would do.
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes, and then run into my dad’s house as quickly as I can with his laughter following me the whole way.
Asher
As I watch November pull up in front of the club on that damn bike, I look over and see a group of guys staring at her too. She puts the kickstand down, takes the helmet off, and shakes out her hair. She looks like a fucking wet dream sitting on that bike. Her legs are covered in tight denim with black boots laced up to mid-calf. She has a leather jacket on and it’s zipped up half way, showing off a good amount of cleavage. I hear one of the guy whistle and her head comes up, spotting me.
“Hey, babe,” she calls and the guy goes to step in her direction. Her nose scrunches and I shake my head at him, walking toward my girl.
“You just had to ride the bike, didn’t you?” I ask, not at all surprised.
She smiles, shaking her head. “Uncle Joe would be disappointed if I didn’t ride it,” she says, lifting her leg over the seat and putting her helmet under her arm. I look at her and know she’s right. Joe loves his boys, but neither of them ride. Now that his niece has shown an interest in riding, he feels like he has someone to share it with besides Mike.