Her lashes fluttered as her mouth dropped open.
He drove her down again, one hand on the small of her back, the other holding her hair away from her face.
“I love you, Gloria.”
What.
The.
Fuck?
She stopped moving at the same moment he felt his face get hot and his head scramble and his balls tighten.
He’d seriously just said that out loud. Unrehearsed.
Thinking fast, he made an on-the-spot decision—like that time in St. Louis when Broderick played into the chorus of “Unchained” when it was the bridge and Ash had to cover. Sometimes you had to play through and hope that no one noticed, or at least if they did, would be quick to forgive and forget.
Dropping that three-word bomb was as unforgettable as things could get, but Asher wasn’t about to let a slip of the tongue mess up what was happening right now. Not when they were both this close to finding heaven. He pressed his hand more firmly into her back, flipped her over so he could flatten her on the couch, and drove into her, deep and hard, making sure she felt it.
A sharp sound left her lips, approval written on her face. Over her head, he held on wherever he could—the couch cushion, the arm—anywhere to gain leverage and drive into her again.
“Like that?” He didn’t need to ask, but he did need her focused on coming and not on anything else.
“Yes.” The agreement was quick—a rushed breath of acceptance. He’d take it.
“Good.”
She molded her palms around his bare ass, lifting her heeled sandals to his thighs just over his jeans. He was mostly dressed, save for the boxers and jeans pushed to his knees, but he was still able to work her into a lather.
A moaning, keening, blue-eyed lather.
She was still looking at him and he could see the conflict raging in her eyes like an on-field battle. He’d told her he loved her and she hadn’t forgotten even now. While they came apart and together at a frantic pace, she was wondering if he slipped or if he meant it.
Asher hadn’t said it on purpose, hadn’t thought it out beforehand, but now that he’d said it, he knew…
He meant it.
Certainty reverberated in his bones, the same certainty he felt when a song came in a frantic rush of creativity and he just knew it was gonna be a hit.
Didn’t mean it didn’t freak him out. In a lot of ways he was in the middle of an identity crisis he couldn’t stop from coming. He meant it, but could he follow through with it? It wasn’t lost on him that he’d bounced several times before in his life. Until Hawk. Now he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
What about with Gloria? Could he guarantee he wasn’t going anywhere where she was concerned? She did her best to push him away and at times he’d swear she was testing him. If he wanted easy, she wasn’t the girl for him.
But he didn’t want easy. He wanted fire and spark and a sharp edge that cut.
He wanted her.
There was no other woman for him, and he should know. There was no other man for her and she should know that as well. Problem was, he didn’t think she knew. He didn’t think she knew he wouldn’t leave her. She was probably already thinking of leaving here tonight. Running to keep from talking about it.
As he stroked into her deeply, she threw her head back in a long, throbbing orgasm, and he tried to decide if he was going to let her run.
“Sarge,” he muttered, pushing into her once more, then twice, finishing them both off. Her with her eyes closed and a sharp cry, him with a long, satisfied groan. He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her. She kept her hands on his ass, tilting her chin and tasting his lips as well. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get away from him and he wanted that to be a good sign.
As things went between them, though, the good never lasted long. He’d like it to last a few minutes after he pulled out and let her off this couch.
Chapter 17
She didn’t stay.
Not long anyway. She’d excused herself to the restroom, which made her remember sex during the party, then she retrieved her beach bag from his bedroom, which made her remember sex after the party. When she came into the kitchen, she found Asher leaning against the counter, hand in a bag of chips.
“I’m going to go,” she said. “Big day tomorrow.”
He finished chewing, dropped the bag on the counter, and came to her, dressed in only jeans and jewelry. It was so appealing, she couldn’t even understand it.
Probably the pecs had something to do with it. The flower tat. The cross. The fact that his abs looked like a hilly landscape. Ridiculously attractive man.
“Good night.” She darted for the front door. He let her. That was the most surprising part.
She’d left last night and he didn’t say anything to try to stop her. She fully expected the patented Asher arm-grab as she walked for her car, but it never came.