“Nowhere to go, sugar,” he drawled.
Pushing against him, she glared up. But her golden brown eyes twinkled. “Sugar isn’t any better than cupcake, you Southern-fried Neanderthal.”
Dipping his finger in the pink confection, Asher spread a smear across Kennedy’s chest, collarbone to collarbone. And then dipped his head down to nibble and lick his way along the same path.
Her fingers tightened on his shoulder, not to push him away again, but to pull him closer.
“I only use nicknames with people I actually like,” he murmured against her skin.
She sighed and squirmed, her hand dropping uselessly to the bed, cupcake completely forgotten. “Why cupcake? It sounds so...”
“Sweet.”
“Empty-headed and pointless.”
He chuckled. “Hardly. Those are two terms I’d never use to describe you.” Pushing up on to his elbows, Asher abandoned his own cupcake, threading his fingers through the loose curls of her silky blond hair. For several seconds he gazed at her, his heart thumping erratically inside his chest. As though he was about to make a HALO jump.
He smoothed several strands away from her face before answering. “Cupcake is the perfect description for you, Kennedy. The kind of treat you know you shouldn’t want, but you can’t seem to stop craving.”
Her lips parted. A soft sound escaped, but he wasn’t sure what it meant. Her eyes flashed bright for several seconds before going dark again.
He seriously needed to lighten this up.
“Besides, I always knew you’d be so damn sweet to taste.” Lowering his head, Asher pulled the pebbled tip of her breast deep into his mouth.
He wasn’t wrong. Above everything else he could taste the overpowering sweetness of the sugary buttercream. But beneath that was all Kennedy. Vanilla and spice and something soft and sensual. That flavor was more addictive than anything he’d ever encountered.
And had the potential to be a hell of a lot worse for him than eating an entire plate of cupcakes.
She arched into his caress, offering him more. But she wasn’t content to merely receive. She wanted to take and give, as well.
The hot point of her tongue scraped against his shoulder over his chest and up his neck. She sucked and nibbled, lapping up every speck of icing she could find.
By the time she wiggled down to get the spots across his ribs, Asher was panting from how good it felt to have her touch him.
Sex had never been this fun or sizzling with anyone else.
What was it about Kennedy that made him feel as if they’d been together like this forever? That he knew her inside and out...and she knew him?
Maybe it was the fact that they’d worked together, knew each other outside the bedroom, but he really didn’t think so.
This was more than simple familiarity.
There was a connection, an understanding that had always stretched between them.
It both thrilled and terrified him. And that was the real reason he’d kept Kennedy at arm’s length all this time. Instinctively, he’d known she could become important.
But that wasn’t an option. Not when she was Jackson’s little sister. Not when every relationship in his life had ended in miserable failure. Not when even his own mother hadn’t thought him worthy of her time and love.
Not when she would walk away in less than two weeks.
What was it about him that was drawn to women who wouldn’t stay? Why did he always fall for them, even though he knew better?
Right now, he was too far gone to search for answers or find the elusive distance he’d been fighting to maintain. How could he possibly find it with Kennedy writhing and moaning beneath him?
They came together in a tangled mass of hands, tongues, mouths and whispered sighs. Last night had been a frenzy. In the early morning hours before the rest of the world awoke, they discovered a kind of blissful, easy, vivid peace.
Their skin stuck together in places. Tiny grains of sugar coated them both. But none of that mattered.
One minute they were apart and the next Asher, sheathed in a condom, was buried deep inside her. Kennedy’s hiss of satisfaction rushed across his skin. She gripped him hard, her hands trying to coax him into defying physics to bring them closer.
And maybe he could.
With slow, steady thrusts, Asher let the bliss build.
“God, you feel amazing,” he rumbled before sucking the speeding pulse at her throat into his mouth.
He could feel the way she spiraled up, her body tightening beneath him as they both barreled headlong into ecstasy. Her muscles clamped hard around him, squeezing and tempting him into letting go. But he wasn’t ready for this to be over yet.
He was greedy and wanted every second of Kennedy he could get, especially since those moments were numbered.
Her panted breaths became whimpers of need, sweet music to his ears. He loved knowing he could make her feel that kind of pleasure.
“Ash, please. Please,” she begged.
“That’s it, angel. Let go.”
Her orgasm crashed over them both. Asher smothered her cry with a soul-deep kiss. The force of it was too much for him. The ball of fire built at the small of his back, exploding out in wave after wave of intoxicating pleasure.
Together, they collapsed onto the bed. Asher rolled them both until Kennedy was tucked at his side, her head lodged beneath his chin.
Closing his eyes, he tried to regain...something. His equilibrium, his sanity, his autonomy. He wasn’t sure, just that the woman in his arms had devastated him...in the best way possible.
They lay like that for several minutes. Slowly, awareness returned. Asher was pretty sure there was a cupcake crushed beneath his hip, but he was too comfortable to move. They could deal with that later.
“Uh, that didn’t quite go how I’d planned,” she finally said.
“No?” Asher picked up his head, just enough so that he could look down at her, a single eyebrow raised in question. “Exactly how did you think that would go down?”
“Oh, you know, I had this vision of myself as an amazon princess, holding you down, torturing you with icing until I finally had you begging for mercy and promising never to call any woman cupcake again.”
A bubble of laugher rolled up from deep inside his chest. There was nothing about Kennedy Duchane that was boring.
“Apparently you forgot to take my battle-honed skills into account.”
Her lips quirked into a half smile. “Apparently.”
“Although, I’m hardly going to complain about your methods of torture. They were a hell of a lot more pleasant than anything else I’ve endured.”
Asher didn’t realize what he’d said until Kennedy went utterly still beside him.
“The fact that you can talk about being tortured so flippantly makes me...”
This time he let her words hang in the air, curious to see just how she’d finish the sentence.
“Crazy and scared and pissed and like I should kiss you all over.”
“Pretty sure you just did that.”
Kennedy shoved at his shoulder. He let his body rock back with the momentum, using it to press her tighter against his chest.
He didn’t need the kind of balm she was offering, his scars were long past healed, but it was nice that someone was finally making the offer.
Looking back, he’d rarely had anyone in his life to give a damn. Sure, his grandma had loved him. And even if her methods for keeping a headstrong and sullen teenager in line had been high-handed at times, he’d always known her discipline had come from a place of affection.
His ex-wife had been many things, but nurturing wasn’t one of them. At the time, he hadn’t particularly thought he needed that.
Maybe he’d been wrong.
“It bothers me that you fall back on bland comments or humor to deflect topics you don’t like.”
The fact that she noticed should have bothered him. It was a defense mechanism he hadn’t even been aware of until a few years ago. Kennedy understanding him enough to recognize that left him vulnerable.
Which only made him want to make another quip to force her away from anything resembling the heavy topic she was hell-bent on tackling.
But he didn’t. Instead, he gave her the truth.
“Yes, I’ve been tortured. Shot and stabbed. I’ve had broken bones and minor lacerations. Comes with the territory. But I’m fine now.”
Pressing up onto her elbow, Kennedy watched him for several seconds. “I’m not sure your definition of fine and mine are the same. You don’t let anyone in.”
Seriously, this woman saw too damn much.
“What do you mean? I have Jackson and Knox. You—” he quickly tacked something onto that single word before she realized it meant more than he’d intended “—and the rest of the Trident team.”
“Work. Is that all you have in your life? Work and meaningless sexual encounters with women you know you’ll never see again?”
Asher spread his hands across her hips and lifted her up and off of him. “I’m not talking about other women while you’re naked and draped across me, Kennedy.”
A small smile tugged at the edge of her lips.
Climbing out of bed, Asher couldn’t explain why he suddenly felt as if a band was clamped around his ribs. He needed to get out of here, away from this conversation.
“I’m gonna wash the rest of this sugar off. Join me?”
“You know I’m not that easily distracted.”
He tossed her a wicked grin and pointed at the crumbling mess of cupcake in the bed they’d just shared. “That would suggest otherwise, cupcake.”