"What do you think I should do?"
She looked back at him, startled. "Me? I'm not a decorator."
"No, but you have excellent taste. I've seen the weddings you put together. You have a good eye for classy touches."
The look of pleasure on her face at his words? It made him hungry for more. He wanted that. He wanted to see that look when she was under him. When he told her she was beautiful. When her body was clasping so tightly around his cock-
"Something warmer, maybe." She crossed her arms over her chest and looked back at him. "It's a little cold the way it's set up right now, but some warmer colors and a few softer pieces and it'd be very cozy and homey. Unless you want the place to appear bigger?"
"Nah. I like cozy." He especially liked the way she said it. "I'm just one guy. I don't need a massive place."
She nodded and her hand went to her stomach briefly. "My place is pretty small, too."
The baby. He'd forgotten about the baby. Much as he wanted to drop to his knees and press his face to that gently rounded stomach, he forced himself to hold back. "You going to upgrade once Junior arrives?"
She made a face at him. "Not Junior. And I hadn't given it much thought. Actually, I haven't had much time to think at all, lately."
"That's because your father's an ass."
Greer gave him another ghost of a smile and wandered toward his short hallway, where his office and bedroom were located. She paused in the doorway to the master bedroom, then chuckled. "Well, I suppose that answers my question before I ask it."
"What question?" He followed after her, curious.
As he rounded the corner, he saw his bedroom was just as he'd left it this morning-a mess. Yesterday's suit jacket was still tossed over a nearby chair, the bed was unmade, the ridiculous throw pillows that normally decorated it (another Donna thing he'd always hated and simply tolerated) on the floor. On the left side of the bed, his laptop, several printouts, and a wealth of Post-it notes were scattered.
"I was going to ask if you've kept busy lately, but I see that you have." She looked over at him, and her lips twitched with amusement. "Taking your work home with you?"
He rubbed his head, rueful. "That wasn't the plan. I hired a CEO to take over the running of things but he's having trouble jumping in and taking command. This last week has been nothing short of hellish."
"Guess all of this means you haven't had much company lately?" She delicately nudged one of the pillows with her shoe. Her voice was light but she wasn't looking at him.
"Why would I want company?" he said bluntly. "All I want is you."
Greer looked up in surprise, her face soft.
"It's true," he told her. "You may not believe me yet, but that's fine. I'm good with waiting." You're it for me and I don't care how long it takes.
She bit her lip and glanced around his room, as if desperate to look anywhere but at him. "We should probably talk, Asher."
Oh no. We should talk was usually the herald of something bad. He didn't want to talk. Tonight, he wanted Greer in his arms, and they could talk tomorrow. He'd missed her too much to let this opportunity slip past him. "Did you really come up here with me to talk, Greer?"
And he gently tugged those large glasses off her face.
She blinked rapidly as he pulled them off, reminding him of an owl. An adorably sexy owl. He eyed her, contemplating unwrapping her like a present. She was all buttoned up in one of her favorite blouses and her hair was pulled back into a tight knot that he was just itching to undo.
"Well?"
"No," she said softly. "No, I suppose I didn't."
Good. He continued to study her, drinking in the sight of her body. He loved that she was smaller than him, barely reaching his shoulder. He itched to hold her against him, to explore with his hands the curves that pregnancy was giving her. He had dreamed of her small breasts with their dark tips, and-
"Asher?"
"Hmm?"
"Why are you just staring at me?"
"I'm trying to figure out which part I want to unveil first." He rubbed his chin and circled around her, making a big show of examining her clothing. "This is all part of my practice."
"I see." There was no mistaking the amusement in her voice. "Do let me know if you need me to participate in any way."
"Oh, I will." He stepped directly in front of her and reached for the tight knot of hair at the back of her head. "Can I undo this?"
She nodded, the expression on her face serious, intense. Greer didn't play in bed, he realized. She took everything as deeply serious as she did the other aspects of her life. He was fascinated by that . . . and determined to break through that rigid control a little. It was all right with him if she channeled that intensity into the bed. He'd love nothing more than that.
Asher's fingers felt for the tie holding her hair back . . . only to not find anything. "Uh, how do you keep this in place?"
Greer chuckled, the sound throaty and oh-so-wicked to his ears. "I have a clip and several pins, actually. Do you want me to do it?"
The only thing sexier than him letting her hair loose was her doing it for him. "Please do." He let his hands drop back to his sides and watched as she expertly began to unravel her tight hair. Pin after pin came out, and with each one gone, the black mass of waves grew a little looser. A thick lock escaped and hung at her jaw, torturing him with its subtle motions as she continued to work on losing her hair.
Then, with a single move, it was free, and her rich black hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. Asher groaned at the sight. With it down, she went from lovely to utterly breathtaking. His fingers itched to drag through that long, luxurious mass, to spread it through his fingers and let it flow over his skin. "God, you're beautiful."
"Mmm." Her voice sounded as if she didn't quite believe him, but she gave her hair a little toss and ran her fingers through it anyhow. "Easy to say that when I'm about to get naked with you."
"Easy to say it, full stop." Asher couldn't stop looking at her. Another flash of whiskey-muddied memory rolled through his mind, of Greer with thick curls held back by a shiny headband, gazing up at him. Her low-cut costume. She'd had her gorgeous hair loose that night, too.
Damn. Being drunk that night had caused him to miss out on all kinds of good things. Never again. As long as Greer was his to touch, he'd be sober so he could enjoy every second of it.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked, brushing a silky lock of hair away from her face. Can I kiss you everywhere?
Greer nodded and tilted her head up in anticipation of his mouth.
As if he could resist that? With a fierce surge of pleasure, Asher buried his hands in her hair, cradling her head, and his mouth swooped over hers. Her soft lips parted under his kiss, a silent plea for more, and he was all too happy to oblige. Greedy for the taste of her, Asher plundered her mouth with his tongue, thrusting and claiming it the way he'd claim the rest of her shortly.
She whimpered against him and her hands went to his arms, curling against the sleeves of his shirt as if she needed support to remain standing.
He loved how responsive she was. She didn't scream her pleasure like some women, or demand things, or even make filthy requests. But her subtle movements-her sighs, her ways of angling her body for his attention, the way she gasped-he knew what each one meant and he hungered to wring more from her. He licked deeply at the sweet well of her mouth, and her tongue curled up to meet his with each taste of her. Greer's mouth was bliss. Sinful, utter bliss.
And he could have kissed her for hours. Hell, part of him wanted to. She was deliciously pliant under him, giving no matter how much he demanded, and silently begging for more with each little stroke of her tongue against his. But he'd been away from her for too long-the last week felt like an eternity. And his body was craving more than just kisses from her. Now that he had her in his arms and in his bedroom?
She was going to get everything he had to offer, and he was going to make her realize that one drunken encounter wasn't what she should judge him off of.
He pressed small kisses to her mouth, and then began to kiss and nip along her jaw. "I'm going to strip you naked and touch every last inch of you."
"All right." She sounded so calm. It was almost as if he'd asked her to hand him the newspaper instead of demanding to take off her clothing.
That made him pause. He kissed her mouth again-because really, it was irresistible-and sucked gently on her lower lip. When he released it, he murmured, "You're not nervous?" He remembered quite distinctly that her first time was that drunken incident in the gardens. The memory of those words was burned into his brain.