I gasp. Of course I do. My words have completely left me. He just looks at me, those beautiful eyes that show so much of his emotions just taking me in. The emotions crossing his face go from angry to blazing with desire in a matter of seconds, and before I can even get a word out, his lips are feasting on mine.
This kiss blows anything we’ve ever shared out of the water. This is a hungry possession of my soul. A claiming of my body. And I love every second of it.
My hands, having a mind of their own, pull at the fabric of his shirt, moving it up his body, desperate for the feel of his skin against my fingertips. He tears his mouth from mine, panting with exertion, and rips the shirt over his head. I watch as the fabric sails over his shoulder and lands on the lamp hanging over the dining room table. When my eyes move back to his, they’re still scorching my skin with the intensity of his need.
His need for me.
“Ash, we need to talk,” I try.
“No. What we need to do is stop talking. Talking doesn’t help shit, Chelcie.” His words are pushed past his lips, still swollen from our kiss, just seconds before he crashes his mouth back to mine.
My body is just as treacherous as it was the first time. The ball of desire starts to tingle through my system, shorting all common sense with just the feel of his skin against my hands. Those hands that are currently running up his back, digging my nails in when I feel his strong arms reach my ass before lifting me up.
We stand there, lips battling each other for power, hips slowly rocking together, and our breathing floating through the room. It isn’t until I feel his hands start to lift my shirt off my body that I feel all sense of desire run from my body and replace my veins with ice-cold panic.
The hands that were just loving every inch they could touch suddenly feel like they’re burning. I rip my mouth from his and start to push him away with every ounce of strength I have.
“Oh, God. Asher . . . you have to stop.”
He leans back enough to give me some space but still keeps his hips pressed tightly against mine.
“Please. Move,” I beg.
Something in my eyes must have convinced him just how close to snapping in two I am, because he helps me gain my footing and steps back.
“I don’t like the look you’re giving me, Chelcie. I understand if this is too much or too quick, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go sit on my fucking thumb so you can dance around this anymore.” He paces a few steps, looking at me between running his hands through his hair, his eyes violent.
The tension climbs higher with every second I take to try and work my thoughts out. He goes to speak, but the ringing of his cell takes over the tense silence.
“Fuck!” He looks at the screen, throwing out a few more expletives. “This isn’t done. Not by a long shot. Shit. Sit down and I’ll be right back. Then . . . then we can talk.”
He makes it down the hallway, stepping into what I remember as the guest room, and I don’t even give him a second to shut the door before I grab my discarded purse and bolt out the door.
This conversation is definitely long overdue, but it will be on my turf. Plus, I have two meddling queens to take care of first.
CHAPTER 14
Chelcie
After having Joe call me a taxi, I make the short drive to Sway’s salon. It does not do one damn thing to calm me down. I can’t believe that the one person who has been telling me that I need to move on, get back on the horse, live a little, is the same person who ratted me out to the one person I know could take my heart and smash it into a million little pieces.
The attraction between Asher and me has always been too much. Burning too bright. And as much as I love that about us, I also fear it. Until he knows about the baby, I won’t feel right acting on any of that. Not to mention that, after he finds out, he probably won’t like me enough to want to start anything. The last thing I want to do is cloud his loyalties with sex.
When I tell him—and I will tell him—I want him to be able to walk away without the thought of whatever we have between us hanging thick.
But I would be lying if I didn’t admit that a little part of me hopes that he still feels the same about me. And that he won’t want me just because of what my baby can give him.
A family. Not with me, no, but with a part of his brother that will live on. I know I shouldn’t worry about that, but I’m only human, and it doesn’t help that I have been living in hormone overdrive for the last few months.
Sway sees me about two seconds before I fling the door open and stomp over to where he’s working on Dee’s hair. I say ‘working’ loosely because he’s really just sitting there brushing her brunette hair between his flamboyant arm waving. He smiles brightly, completely unconcerned with the pissed-off pregnant woman marching through his salon.