Asher kissed his way down my throat. “I can’t believe we have to go see my lame friends, and I can’t take you straight to bed right now. You look too good in this outfit.”
He slid his hand up my thigh until it disappeared inside my short jean skirt. But I caught his wrist and sent a quick glance to the cab driver, hoping he wasn’t watching us.
“Now, now, Mr. Hart,” I warned with a grin, batting my nose against Asher’s. “Tío Alonso explicitly told us none of that until after the wedding.”
Asher groaned and pressed his forehead to mine. “Your uncle is so fucking delusional. We’ve been dating four years now, I’ve put a ring on it, and we’re living together. Does he honestly think we haven’t—”
I pressed a finger against his magical lips. “If he doesn’t then I’m certainly not going to be the one to clue him in otherwise. Are you?”
“Fuck no.” Asher snorted right before he trailed a row of kisses down my neck. “But neither am I going to remain celibate for another month until we’re properly married.”
Oh, neither was I. Pressing my mouth to his ear, I whispered, “Just wait until I have you alone in our room, and I’ll show you how celibate I’m not going to be either.”
He groaned and grew hard against my bottom. “That’s it. We’re skipping this whole friend-get-together thing and heading straight to our room with a bottle of champagne and maybe some strawberries...and chocolate syrup.”
Giddy about his eagerness, because I had on a surprise under my clothes that I just knew he’d enjoy ripping off, I merely tapped the tip of his nose with my finger. “But Ten and Caroline don’t get to visit often since they moved to California. I want to see them and catch up.”
“Fine.” He thumped his head moodily back on the seat of the car and groaned. “I’ll do it for Caroline. But Ten can eat shit.”
I grinned, glad he and Ten still liked to bicker and needle each other from halfway across the country. But I also knew he missed his friend and was eager to see Ten again, along with the rest of the gang.
I’d been surprised at how readily they’d all accepted me after the way my relationship had started with Asher. I feared they’d be more judgmental because I’d lied and hurt their rock star. But they’d treated me the way Asher had wanted them to treat me, with warm acceptance. And now I felt as if they were my family too.
“I still can’t believe Tío Alonso told us no sex until the wedding.” Taking my hand, Asher began to play with my engagement ring. “He’s never going to like me, is he?”
Kissing his cheek, I said, “Hey, don’t worry about it. He can’t stand any kind of outsider. Hell, he barely tolerates me, and I’m his niece. But Abuela loves you to pieces, so that’s all that matters.”
Asher looked up at me, his brow crinkling. “Remy, your uncle loves you.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes, even as my chest tightened with the idea. “Only because I’m blood. He has to.”
But my fiancé shook his head. “No, he doesn’t. Just last week, he asked me for two hundred Non-Castrato fliers to pass out to customers at the restaurant. And I’ve heard him brag you up to others more than once.”
I swallowed a huge lump in my throat. “Really?” Okay, maybe I wasn’t so abhorrent to my uncle. Wow.
“Really.” Asher kissed my forehead. “No one has to love you, family or otherwise. We all just do...because, well, we can’t help it. You’re amazing.”
“Look at you, being all sweet,” I murmured, trying to make light of his words even though they affected me deeply. I touched my mouth to his. “You must really want to get laid tonight.”
“Why, yes. Yes, I do, even though every word I speak is the truth. You’re impossible not to love, Remy Elisa Curran, almost Hart.”
“As are you, Ashley Jean Hart.”
He gasped. “Oh, you smartass. You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
“No.” I giggled, and he kissed me again.
When the cab stopped next to our hotel, we were breathing hard as we pulled apart. I was about to tell him, skip the friends for a few minutes, we could have a quickie in our room first, but after he paid our fare, he took my hand and dragged me inside, looking up Pick’s hotel room number on his phone as he went.
“It’s room 312,” I told him as he scowled and scrolled through his messages.
Asher glanced up. “Are you sure?”
I only nodded and smiled.
Shaking his head, he cupped the nape of my neck. “See, this is why I’m marrying you. I’d be a lost mess without my organized Remy.”
After another soft kiss, he groaned and pulled away. “Okay, friends first.”
Remarkably, we made it to room 312 with all our clothes still on. After Asher knocked, he kissed me again. He was always frisky after a show; the rush of performing was as much an adrenaline boost to him as it was to me. And I loved it.