“Black. I’m guessing yours is yellow.”
I scoff. “Black is not a color and how did you know I love yellow?”
“I’m very observant. You wore it two days in a row. Two days you knew you were going to see me, might I add.” His cocky smile is annoying yet totally kissable.
“It just so happens to look best on me.” I curl further into him. “What did you want to be when you were a kid?”
“I wanted to play the cello.”
“Looks like we have something in common.”
“We have a lot in common. I’ve never met someone so similar to me before.”
“Like our birthdays.”
“Yes, like our birthdays. And Emma . . .” Asher rolls us so he is on his back. I let out a yelp as he pulls me with him until I am straddling his hips. The growing erection beneath lets me know he’s ready for round two.
“Yes?” I say, cocking my brow, letting him I’m on to his wicked agenda.
“I don’t want to talk anymore.” Asher’s hands take my hips and guide me into position.
“Sounds good to me.” And it does. So we make love again.
This time we are rough and reckless and completely free.
The sun is in the beginning stages of setting when I walk up the steps toward the hotel. I asked Asher to leave me at the marina. If he walked me up, I feared we’d never make it inside. My body is so addicted to him at this moment, I’d never leave.
Asher didn’t take well to being told what to do but I promised I’d leave word with the front desk when I arrived and he could check in with them.
I have a bizarre feeling he’s following me anyway to make sure I get back to the room safely but I keep going forward, making sure I stand my ground. He can’t be near me or else I’ll jump him again and today is too special a day. I need to be with my sister.
When I make it into the room, Leah is on the bed, looking sick but much better than she was hours ago.
“How are you feeling?” I ask with concern, even though I want to scream with excitement from the amazing afternoon I had.
Leah’s face is forlorn. If she weren’t so sick I’d think she was upset. “Why is your hair wet?”
My hand tangles a lock of hair. It’s still damp from the shower I took with Asher. Shower sex is definitely better with him than it was with Parker. Hell, everything is better with him than it was with Parker.
“Oh my God, you slept with him,” she says with minimal excitement. The Leah I know would be on me right now desperate for every dirty detail. But this version of her is more subdued.
I fight back a blush. “We showered because we went swimming in the ocean.”
Leah’s eyes widen. “You said we. You showered with him? You, like, got crazy nasty dirty with him?”
There’s the Leah I know.
“Stop it.” I wave her off. “We . . . he . . . you see . . .” Oh what the hell. “Leah, I just had the most amazing, mind-blowing sex of my life. It was wicked, and sinful and soulful and powerful, and I think I’m in love with him.”
Holy shit. What is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with me?
It sounds bat-shit crazy to me and I’m the one thinking it.
No, I’m the one knowing it.
Leah’s mouth is puckered, her eyes narrow. “Asher?”
I nod my head in affirmation.
Leah’s next words come out methodical. “Did Asher happen to tell you his whole name?”
“Asher Gutierrez. Why?”
Leah looks back at me, frozen in a trance. I take a step forward and put my hand on her shoulder. “Leah, are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.”
She places a hand over her mouth and nods before darting off the bed for the bathroom. I chase after her, grabbing her hair, and she hurls into the toilet. Poor Leah. I was spending the day in the arms of a gorgeous man and she was puking her guts up.