by T. K. Leigh
“Tell me to stop.” His words come out like a growl. “Tell me we can’t do this. That this is wrong. That this isn’t what you want.”
I peer into his fevered eyes, shaking my head. It is wrong. We shouldn’t do this. But that doesn’t diminish the truth. “I want this. I want you. So much.”
“So much,” he repeats. His grip on me tightening, he edges closer. My gaze is transfixed on his full lips, my need to savor them tuning out everything else. The risk of getting caught. That I wanted to keep my distance for a reason. That I know this won’t end well. None of that matters right now. All that does is losing myself in the taste of his kiss after starving myself for too long.
He runs the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip, the gesture causing my body to quiver. “You like when I do that, don’t you?”
All I can manage is a barely noticeable nod.
“It’s a simple touch.” He inches closer still, his breath intermingling with mine.
“There’s no such thing. Not when it comes to you. Every single one of your touches holds a power over me.”
“And you will always own me. Always.”
He erases the final distance between us, and I surrender to him.
“Was that a new song?”
At the sound of the booming voice, Asher instantly releases me and we both sit upright, flinging our eyes toward the doorway just as Jessie rounds the corner into the room.
“Mom said she thought she heard music coming from down here.” He flicks his gaze between us. Not one hint of accusation lines his expression, only genuine excitement.
An awkward beat passes before Asher clears his throat, standing. “She did.”
“Can I hear it?”
“You should play it for him. It’ll be great on the album.” I raise myself to my feet, pulling my cardigan closer to fight off the intense chill that seems to consume me, my limbs shaking at the idea of how close we were to getting caught. What the hell was I thinking?
Asher floats his gaze to mine, a single brow raised in question, silently asking if I’m okay. I nod subtly, and he returns to the bench, drawing in a deep breath before the now familiar baseline surrounds me.
When he sings the opening verse, goosebumps prickle my skin. I focus my gaze on Jessie as he taps his foot in time to the beat, worried he’ll put the pieces together and realize I’m Asher’s favorite almost.
Chewing on my fingernails, something I rarely do, I discreetly back away, convinced Jessie is bound to discover the truth. How could he not when Asher sings about a girl he’s always wanted but could never have because she belongs to another man?
As he continues singing, his parents and Grams peek in to listen in on his latest creation. His parents look upon him with nothing short of pride. Grams is different, though. Whereas his parents and even Jessie may not have picked up on the story behind the lyrics, Grams does. She shoots me a mischievous smile, another advance in her game of chess.
“That was awesome!” Jessie exclaims excitedly when the song comes to an end. He rushes to Asher, patting his back. “I knew coming back here would help you get past this block.” He steals a glance at me, winking, before returning his attention to his brother. “Think you can work on a demo so I can get it to the label?”
Asher stares blankly ahead. “Yeah. Sure.” His voice is even, a complete contradiction to Jessie’s enthusiasm over the prospect of a new song
“I can already hear this one being played nonstop on the radio. Hell, I can practically feel the rafters shake in the arenas when the opening measures fill the place and the audience loses their minds. Especially your female fans. This song is sexy as fuck.”
“Jessie!” Reagan admonishes. “Language.”
His complexion flushes. It doesn’t matter that he’s thirty-four. He still cringes whenever his mother scolds him for swearing. I find it endearing.
“Sorry, Ma.” He looks back at Asher. "But it’s still sexy. The label will love it. This is the exact thing they’re looking for. Sex appeal with soul. You fu—” He stops short, glancing at his mother before returning his gaze to Asher. “Freaking nailed it. Let’s get a demo to them. Think you can do one here? I doubt there are any studios even remotely close to this place.”
Asher waves his hand around. “This will be fine. It’s not professional grade, but it’ll do for a demo.”
“Great.” Jessie beams, his eyes alight with excitement. Then his expression falls as his gaze lands on me.
I shrink into myself. Did he figure it out? Did the lyrics finally sink in?
“Why are you flushed?”
“Flushed?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He steps toward me, analyzing me. “Your cheeks are red. And you’re breathing heavy. Are you okay?”
I part my lips, blinking repeatedly as all eyes in the room zero in on me. “I—” I stammer, suddenly feeling lightheaded.
“What is it?”
“I—”
“I asked Izzy to bring Asher a coffee earlier as he sat out on the dock,” Grams interrupts, coming to my rescue when my brain refuses to fire. “I guess I didn’t take into account that she wasn't dressed appropriately.” She gestures to my slipper-clad feet.
I hadn’t noticed how frigid I was, the rush of adrenaline from watching Asher work making me oblivious to everything. Now my entire body shakes.
“Your lips are turning blue,” Jessie exclaims, rushing toward me, pressing his hands against my cheeks. “You’re freezing, baby. What were you thinking going out there like this?” Before I can react, Jessie swoops me into his arms in a cradle hold.
“I c-can walk,” I attempt to say through the strong chattering of my teeth, my body quivering almost violently. I’ve never felt so cold. Even my insides feel frozen.
“Not a chance in hell. You shouldn’t have been out there in the first place.” He shoots daggers at Asher before passing Grams a look of disapproval. “The way you’re shivering, you’ll barely make it up the stairs.”
I try to glance back at Asher, but Jessie’s steps are quick, the entire house a blur as he runs me up to the second floor. How could I have gotten so cold so quickly? I was only outside for twenty minutes, max. Then again, I was outside in wet slippers in temperatures no warmer than ten degrees. Then an additional twenty or thirty minutes in a chilly basement room.
“What am I supposed to do?” Jessie asks, kicking open the door to my room.
“W-what do y-you mean?”
“You’re the nurse. How to you treat hypothermia?”
“I d-don’t have hy-hypothermia,” I argue, barely able to say the words through my trembles.
“For argument’s sake, let’s say you have a mild case. What do I do?”
“G-get me out of my clothes.”
“Okay.” He sets me on the bed, reaching for my cardigan to slide it off.
“I c-can do that,” I insist, trying to push the sleeves down my arms, failing miserably.
“Oh really? You’re doing a bang-up job, Iz. Just stop. Let someone help you for once, okay?”
I close my eyes, hating that I have to depend on Jessie. I consider telling him to have Asher come help, but doubt that would go over well, although Grams would probably declare a checkmate if that were to occur.
I nod, momentarily giving up my fight, allowing Jessie to take off my cardigan. When his fingers brush against my hands, he inhales a sharp breath at how icy they are. He grabs them in his, rubbing furiously.
“No. The m-movies lie,” I manage to say. “No massaging or r-rubbing.”
He instantly stops, keeping my hands in his for a beat before pulling away. “Got it.” He gets back to work peeling off my slippers. I steal a glimpse of my feet, noticing they’re a brighter shade of red than they should be.
“I have to get under these c-covers. And I’ll need more blankets, too.”
With a nod, he lifts the duvet, about to help me under when I stop him.
“I have to t-take off the rest of my clothes. At least
my p-pants.”
Jessie blinks, mouth slightly agape. “Oh.” He swallows hard. “I can ask Ma or Grams to come help if you’d rather. I’m sure they won’t mind.”
I should take him up on his offer. But I’m driven by the need to get warm, something I don’t think I’ll ever feel again. “You’re here. They’re not. And I’m f-fucking freezing, Jessie, so take off my goddamn pants,” I order out of pure desperation.
“I need to help you into a standing position.”
He wraps his arms around me, carefully hoisting me to my feet. I rest my head against his chest, a tiny breath escaping at the warmth of his embrace surrounding me. It’s so welcome, so inviting, so familiar. I can’t help but find comfort in the way he holds me with the same affection he did all those years ago.
“Can you hold on to my shoulders?” Jessie asks in a husky voice.
“Okay.”
He helps me rest my arms around his neck, then hooks his fingers into the waistband of my pajama pants, lowering them over my hips. “You can sit again.” With a hand on my lower back, he helps me lay back on the mattress, peeling my pants off me and dropping them onto the floor.
After helping me lift my legs onto the bed, he fluffs the pillow behind me, pulling the duvet over my body. “Are you okay to keep your underwear on?”
“I’ll be fine. I just need a few more blankets. And tea with no caffeine, if you have any.”
“Of course.” He brushes my hair out of my face, placing a kiss on my forehead. I close my eyes, reveling in the warmth of his lips on my skin. Then he pulls back, heading toward the closed door to my room. He’s about to open it when he pauses, meeting my stare once more. “Izzy, I…”
“Yes?”
He chews on his lower lip, rolling his words over in his head. “I’m really worried about you.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine.”
He smiles a sad smile. “I’ll always worry about you.”
Chapter Fifteen
An arm encircles my midsection, pulling me into a warm, firm body. I know this body. I’ve experienced this body. And it’s one I crave to experience just one more time.
“What are you doing?” I rasp out, my eyelids heavy from exhaustion.
“Shh…” Asher tightens his hold, his bare chest warming me. “Body heat can help raise your internal temperature.” His tone is lighthearted and spirited, a complete contradiction to the intensity from earlier today when he shared his truths with me.
“Is that right?” I joke back, unable to reel in my smile. This is the Asher I fell in love with all those years ago. This carefree, vivacious man who always made me laugh without even trying. I’ve missed this man.
“I read it on the internet. So it must be true.”
“I wouldn’t trust everything you read on the internet. If I did that, then according to some gossip websites, you’re gay.”
“Would a gay man be this turned on by just the feel of you?” He grinds his hips against me, making me whimper.
I should stop this right now. After all, we’re at his grandmother’s lake house where anyone could walk in. Where his brother could walk in. But none of that fazes me. Not when I’ve craved him for the past year…even longer. I couldn’t tell him to stop any more than I could survive without oxygen.
His hot breath nears the nape of my neck, making every inch of me tremble in anticipation.
“Cold?”
“Quite the opposite,” I exhale as he adjusts his body, pulling me closer into him until I can barely decipher where he ends and I begin.
“Is this okay?” he asks, lightly brushing his mouth against my shoulder blades. My muscles relax at the contact, all the tension rolling off me.
“Yes,” I murmur, fire spreading through my veins.
“Good.” His lips continue to skim against my nape, his touch achingly light, before finding that spot where my neck meets my shoulder. His teeth clamp on to me.
“Asher…” I writhe against him, my chest heaving.
“Is this okay?” His tone this time is more gruff and demanding.
“Yes…”
“Good.” He delicately kisses the spot he just bit, the perfect combination of pleasure and pain.
He gently pushes me onto my back, and our eyes finally meet. Ravenous desire greets me as he crawls on top of me, pressing a knee between my legs, nudging them open. I reach up and push his hair out of his face, needing to look into his depths with no obstruction.
He lowers his mouth toward mine, every second ratcheting up my appetite more and more, my heart thundering against the walls of my chest. His lips barely graze mine, and I quiver.
“Is this okay?” he asks yet again.
“God yes,” I moan, closing my eyes as he erases the last remnants of space between us. A second passes. Then another. And another.
When I don’t feel his lips on mine, I slowly open my eyes, blinking repeatedly at the sudden disappearance of Asher’s gaze. In fact, Asher isn’t in bed with me at all. The room is mostly devoid of light, heavy blankets weighing me down as I lay on my back. Alone.
Disoriented, I prop myself up on my elbows and take in my surroundings, yelping when I notice Asher sitting in the reading chair in the corner, a tray of food on the table beside him.
“Jesus Christ!” I clutch my chest in an attempt to slow my racing heart. “Do you always make a habit out of sneaking into people’s bedrooms and watching them sleep?” I avert my eyes, praying he can’t see my flushed expression in the dim lighting.
I look around the room, noting the sun has almost set. I don’t even remember falling asleep. The last thing I recall is asking Jessie for more blankets. Judging by the layers upon layers of blankets on top of me, he must have brought them to me at some point.
“Not exactly,” Asher muses as I push the extra blankets from my body and lean against the headboard. “Do you always make it a habit to moan my name in your sleep?”
“I did no such thing,” I bite out, cheeks heating. “You’re making that up.”
“By the current shade of red on your complexion, you know I’m not.” He waggles his brows. “You should be happy I was the one who witnessed it, not Jessie. If you’d woken up fifteen minutes earlier, it would have been. That would have sparked a few questions.”
I smooth the blankets on my lap, still trying to avoid his mischievous eyes, but it’s nearly impossible, especially when he has that same spirited attitude as in my dream.
“Why are you here? And why was Jessie here before?”
“He was worried. So was I.” He stands, lifting the tray and carrying it toward me. “I brought you something to eat. Figured you might like some soup.” He sets it on the bedside table.
“Your mom didn’t have to go through the trouble of making soup. Jessie overreacted.” I lean over the steaming bowl and inhale the comforting aroma of chicken noodle soup.
“He didn’t overreact. You shouldn’t have been out in the snow. I was an idiot for not noticing how cold you were earlier.” He sits on the edge of the mattress toward the foot of the bed. “And Mom didn’t make the soup,” he adds as an afterthought.
“She didn’t?” I ask around a mouthful, the hot broth warming my insides. There’s no way this is store bought. “Then who did?”
“Me.”
I choke as I swallow, coughing several times before grabbing the water and taking a sip, setting the spoon back down on the tray.
“Gee, thanks,” Asher jokes. “Glad to know you’re that shocked over the idea. I do know how to cook. If I recall correctly, I made some of my father’s world-famous burgers for you in Vegas. What was it you called them?” He pinches his lips together, tapping his chin, deep in thought. “Ah, yes. You called them ‘positively orgasmic’.”
“I know you can cook. I guess…” I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“What?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to drop what you were doing to make me soup, considering how time-
consuming it can be.”
He leans toward me, squeezing my leg through the duvet. “For you, Iz, I’d drop everything.”
I meet his eyes and offer him a smile. Today has been a wild ride, but there’s no one I’d rather be with right now, despite all the unresolved issues between us. “Thank you, Asher. The soup really is delicious. I’ll have to put you on speed dial for whenever I get sick so you can come over and make me some.”
“I would if you’d let me.”
I nod, swallowing through the lump building in my throat. “I know.” I hold his gaze another moment, then clear my throat, lifting the bowl of soup and eating another spoonful. “So, did you cut a demo?”
He scrubs a hand over his face. “I did. Jessie is sending it off to the label.”
“He is?” I ask over the bowl. “How?”
“Grams put in Wi-Fi.”
“Wow. Never thought that would happen.”
“She did add parental controls. Said if she notices Jessie paying more attention to an inanimate object than a living, breathing human who isn’t long for this world, she’ll block his devices.”
I bark out a laugh. “That sounds like something Grams would say.”
I eat more of the soup as we sit in comfortable silence. Asher keeps his eyes trained on me, but not in an overly amorous way. It’s more analytical, like he’s making sure I really am okay.
“You know what this reminds me of?” I ask when I place my now empty bowl back onto the tray.
“What’s that?”
“That time I caught a stomach bug the same day everyone planned on a day-long outing on the lake. You stayed behind and took care of me, even when I was bent over the toilet and retching everything in my stomach.”
He blows out a laugh. “I remember. You puked over everything. The floor. The sink. Your clothes. I spent hours cleaning all of it while you slept it off.”
I hesitate before making my next statement. “You undressed me that day. Remember?”
His ears redden and he smiles shyly. “That’s a day I’ll never forget. If I wasn’t jealous of Jessie before, I certainly was when I saw how amazing you looked in just your bra and panties.” The vein in his neck throbs as his jaw tightens, his eyes flaming. “The sight of you…” His hands clench and unclench as he hisses out a breath. “It was a good thing you were sick because if you weren’t, I couldn’t have been held responsible for any of my actions.”
