by Nia Arthurs
A familiar building looks back at me. Shabby paint. Two thick dumpsters. Windows filled with a mixture of light and darkness.
This is Asia’s apartment.
I drove without a specific destination in mind and somehow ended up here.
My heart led me to her.
Her apartment’s on the third floor.
I can’t see anything from up here—thankfully. Which means that she’s been safe from pervs and prying eyes all the years before I met her.
That’s important.
Because I want to protect this woman.
For the rest of my life.
My heart pounds a frantic rhythm as the light glows, piercing the darkness.
I sit there in my car, my hands tight on the steering wheel.
I tell myself to go, but I don’t make any moves to.
One minute passes.
Then thirty.
Then an hour.
I stay there in Asia’s parking lot until she turns off all the lights.
Twenty-Seven
Asia
“That looks fabulous, girl.” Tierra grins brightly and twists her finger in a circle. “Spin around.”
“You don’t think it’s too…”
“What?” Elizabeth arches an eyebrow.
“Much?” I wince, glancing down at the red cocktail dress that hugs my figure and shows off my cleavage. “It’s just a dinner with an engineer, right? Shouldn’t it be more… formal?”
“The Jensen deal is very important.”
“I’m aware,” I mumble.
The deal is so important that it stole my husband from me.
Hansley’s been working at the office non-stop since we came back from Vegas. I saw him only once—the day he came to pick me up and show me around his massive condo.
He stuck around just long enough to give me a kiss and then he was out the door.
At first, I didn’t mind.
In fact, I reveled in the peace.
Jumping from single to married, even if it’s only temporary—has been an adjustment.
I didn’t move in with Thad for that very reason.
I like having my own personal space.
I like hogging up the bed.
Throwing my clothes around the hamper instead of in it.
Leaving the dishes to wash until they’ve gathered a high enough pile.
My personal freedom means the world to me because I have a very specific way of functioning. It might look like total chaos, but there’s a method to the madness.
I wasn’t looking forward to adjusting my schedule or habits for anyone.
Plus, I’ve been busy with my own business. Having my name splashed all over the tabloids was good for my website. More and more people are finding my brand online and booking me for gigs and consultations.
I had more work than I could keep up with and was seriously considering getting a partner to split the load.
Before I went personnel hiring, I wanted Hansley’s opinion on it.
An opinion he hasn’t been able to share…
Because he hasn’t been around.
In fact, seeing Hansley for a long enough period of time to ask about anything seems almost impossible right now. Our schedules conflict like two warring nations in the heat of battle.
When I’m home, he’s at the office.
When I’m out, he’s at home.
He comes in late and leaves early.
All the time.
Without fail.
It’s starting to feel like a set-up.
Or maybe he’s avoiding me.
But that’s ridiculous.
It’s not like he’s suddenly lost interest in me.
Flames heat my cheeks when I think about last night.
I’d woken up to him getting into bed and sighing in exhaustion. He’d reached for me and I came willingly, wrapping him in my arms and trying to get enough of my brain cells to wake up so I could talk.
It’s weird, but I found myself missing him. I wanted to hear his voice. Laugh at his jokes. Listen as he droned on and on about coding.
Anything.
I just… needed to connect.
So I tried to start up a topic.
I got two words in before Hansley started kissing me.
My lips caved to him.
And I kissed him back.
His fingers inched over my skin and I widened my thighs to rub against him almost naturally, instinctively.
He groaned.
And then he peeled my clothes off.
My shirt hit the floor.
Then my pants.
I tried to maintain the conversation. Probably not the best time for it, being naked and all, but I hadn’t seen him in over three days. As much as I wanted his touch, I wanted his company too.
Hansley didn’t see it the same way.
Grunts were his only replies.
He wasn’t listening.
His eyes were on something else.
His fingers were somewhere else.
And when he started touching me…
Well, the best laid plans shattered.
Last night, he came at me with a purpose, with a vengeance.
There was no music playing, but I felt like we were moving to the tune of an angry guitar solo filled with screaming and hard, trashing climaxes.
Last night wasn’t the sweet, tender touch I experienced at his parents’ house. It wasn’t the teasing passion of the morning after.
My husband was desperate. Like a dying man feasting on his last meal.
Frantic.
A little unhinged.
I didn’t understand it, but I felt it.
Beneath the pleasure and the lust, there was darkness.
Pain.
Some other emotion I couldn’t identify.
And then he blinked.
And it was gone.
He growled that he needed me. He held me tightly. Showed no restraint.
I didn’t have a moment to breathe and ask him what was going on. Didn’t have the presence of mind to do anything but give myself to him so he could bend, twist, and bruise me as he wished.
He spent every minute, every scrap of energy pounding whatever was bothering him out of his body and into mine.
The vast, skittering frenzy burned my doubts to the ground.
Raw. Urgent. Animalistic.
How could I bring up the fact that I felt lonely?
That I wasn’t sure where we stood?
My heart, my mind, my very soul tumbled into him. As he stroked. Thrust. Bent me over. I could only focus on the way he was loving on my body. On the sparks that exploded in my chest and set fireworks off in my head.
We went all night until dawn.
After, Hansley fell asleep and I passed out on top of his chest.
This morning, when I opened my eyes, he was gone.
There was a note on the nightstand.
So I grabbed it.
Read it.
This black card is yours. I called Tierra and Elizabeth to help you spend as much as you can. Don’t argue.
It had a heart underneath it along with Hansley’s name and signature.
It should have felt romantic. After all, how many women get to take their husband’s black card with the free rein to spend it all on themselves?
But it didn’t.
The gesture felt… cold.
And heartless.
For the fourth day in a row, I found a note lying next to me instead of my husband.
The first day, Hansley’s note was a simple heart.
On the second, it was a summary of our wedding vows.
On the third day, he bought me a necklace.
Today, the card.
I know I’m supposed to be impressed.
But I’m not.
I’m not a gold-digger. I don’t chase after money. My parents taught me how to take care of myself and I was doing just fine before Hansley came along.
Money can’t measure up to
having his arms around me.
Romantic notes aren’t a substitution for him.
Why is he tugging my heart all over the place?
Was this his plan all along? Is he exposing how much I’ve fallen for him by being scarce? Playing hard to get?
Well, it’s freaking working.
I can’t breath when Hansley’s not around.
I want more of him.
I want everything.
Even if it hurts me.
Kills me.
But what if I’m wrong?
What if I’m at home pining like an idiot and he’s at the office with an old flame? Or at a hotel making some other girl moan for him the way I did last night?
“Asia?” Tierra calls my name softly.
“You look like you’re about to cry.” Elizabeth swats her frizzy curls away from her face. "Is the dress that awful?”
I glare at my reflection as tears stabs against the back of my eyes. Focusing on the anger, I snap at them. “Don’t tell me this is why the guys wanted us to come to the business dinner.” I gesture to my exposed breasts and huff. “Are we supposed to shake our boobs and twerk to get Jensen to sign the check?”
Tierra looks horrified. “No. No. That’s not why I picked that dress at all.” She gives my body a slow sweep. "You have such a great shape. I thought it would be awesome to show it off.”
“She’s obviously not comfortable.” Elizabeth stands quickly and trots over to me. Draping her arms around my shoulder, she mumbles, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I brush away the tear that falls before she can see it.
“I’ll look for something a little more modest.” Tierra winces. “I’m really sorry, Asia. I actually prefer to cover up as well. I just assumed that with a body like that—“ Her expression tightens. “I should have asked you.”
“No. No.” At the crestfallen look on Tierra’s dark face, I realize that I’m totally over-reacting. Reaching out, I squeeze her hand. “I’m just tired and taking it out on you.”
“What’s going on?” Tierra asks.
“I don’t know.” I chew on my bottom lip and admit, “I miss Hansley.”
Elizabeth’s lips twitch. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Brett has been working longer hours lately,” Tierra admits.
“They’re pulling all nighters?”
Tierra nods.
Elizabeth sighs knowingly. “I hate when Brogan’s working on a big case. He’s like a dog with a bone. Unable to focus on anything else.” She slants me an understanding look. “I get it, girl.”
“To be honest, I miss Brett too.” Tierra laughs self-consciously. “I’m not used to having to share him with work. That’s why I jumped at the chance to come and hang out with you ladies.” Her lips arch up. “It’s hard loving such driven, work-obsessed men, isn’t it?”
“Loving?” I choke. “I wouldn’t say—”
“What? That you love him?” Elizabeth tilts her head. “Why?”
“Because…” I can’t find an excuse. “I just can’t.”
“You’re worried about the way you started?”
I stare at my feet. “I’m worried at the way we’ll end.”
Elizabeth’s voice is gentle. “As someone who married and then fell in love with her husband, I can tell you that what you’re feeling is completely normal. It’s very confusing to figure out what’s going on between you when you’ve done things out of order. But trust me.” Elizabeth squeezes my shoulder. “If he’s a good man, it’s worth it.”
Her eyes sparkle.
She’s a woman in love.
They both are.
I look in the mirror and see the same glow on my face.
I cup my cheek as I murmur, “I’m… in love with Hansley?”
Both ladies just watch me as I make the slow, painfully obvious revelation about three days too late.
“I’m in love with Hansley,” I say again.
This time it isn’t a question.
“I’m in love with my husband!” My voice climbs. I let out a strangled, desperate laugh.
Holy crap.
Twenty-Eight
Hansley
Asia descends the stairs and my heart stops beating.
It just plops right out of my chest.
Flops to the ground.
Rolls right up to her silver sandals and the toes that are painted a bright, sexy red.
I can’t breathe.
No woman should be this beautiful.
It should be freaking illegal.
My eyes slide up her legs. The dress hits her past her knees and there’s zero cleavage showing, but Asia doesn’t need to expose it all to be sexy.
Just the way those curves dip in that gown—
Just the hint of skin she’s revealing through the mesh cut-out at the bust—
“What do you think?” She descends the stairs.
My eyes bug when I see that, for all it’s modesty in the front, the dress dips all the way down to her tailbone at the back.
My pants tighten on sight.
That’s dangerous.
That’s freaking…
“Gorgeous,” I whisper.
This woman is divine.
And I can’t believe that my hands have the privilege of touching her.
Of holding her close.
Of kissing her lips.
Asia’s eyes fall closed.
Her thick lashes flutter against my cheek in a sweet, butterfly kiss.
I can’t stand it.
We need to go upstairs.
I need to hike this sexy dress to her waist and taste her.
I need to wrap my fingers around that high, sleek ponytail and pull her neck back.
Expose her throat.
Suck the pulse right at the base.
Make her groan.
Make her scream.
Damn.
How much time do we have?
“You look handsome,” she breathes, reaching out and wiping the lipstick that’s transferred from her mouth to mine. “If I wasn’t so scared you’d ruin my make-up, I’d—”
“What?” I dare her to say it.
She leans in. Whispers in my ear.
Her lips brush against the sensitive lobe.
She takes it into her mouth.
Sucks it lightly.
Holy freaking hell.
She’s too hot.
I can’t stand it.
“Come here.” I reach for her.
She laughs and dances out of my hold. “Now, now, Mr. Nicholas. I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight.”
“You're messing with me.”
“You’ll get what you want.” She sways her hips, staring boldly into my eyes. “When I’m ready to give it to you.”
Heat explodes in my chest.
There’s no way I can leave without adjusting my pants now.
“Tease,” I say with a grin.
“Learned from the best.” She winks.
I move determinedly in her direction. “Now it’s my turn.”
Her eyes widen.
With challenge.
With need.
With…
What is that?
What’s that strong emotion flowing from her eyes.
It’s getting me high.
Getting me drunk.
I need that.
All of that.
“We don’t have time,” she warns breathlessly when I stand in front of her.
My fingers grip her elbow. “We’ll be late.”
“Hansley.”
“Couch.”
She doesn’t move.
I arch an eyebrow. “You have a tendency of getting weak in the knees, love.”
The word slips out.
Love.
It’s how I feel.
But I haven’t allowed myself to say it in full.
Not until I’ve figured out a way to tell Asia everything.
Which I still haven’t yet.
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There’s never been a right time.
Or I’ve never made the time.
The Jensen project is a convenience. A tidy excuse to keep from looking Asia in the eyes and lying about this huge secret that I’m keeping from her.
“I'm sure that’s a problem we can solve,” she says softly. “Love.”
Her eyes glint. Her lips curl up.
Somehow, that word makes the moment even sexier to me.
We’re both edging closer to that cliff’s edge.
Or maybe we’re both facing the bottom.
Either way, something massive has shifted.
We’re bracing ourselves for the plunge.
I can’t live without this woman.
My entire being exists to protect her.
To savor her.
To honor her.
And she knows it.
I see it in her eyes.
The power.
The assurance.
The confidence.
That’s from me.
Even if I’ve been a crappy husband lately, she’s still willing to place her bet on me. And that gives me such a rush I can’t contain myself.
Asia walks backward.
She keeps going until her body hits the staircase.
She jolts from hitting the hard wood.
But her eyes don’t flash pain.
They only carry desire.
“I’ve got something holding me up now,” she whispers, a wicked smirk on her lips and a come and get me glint in her gaze.
I don’t resist the call.
But I do make her wait for it.
My steps are measured.
Slow.
Agonizingly so.
Screw everything else.
I have my extremely hot wife waiting in front of me.
Jensen and Brett can take a freaking hike.
There are more important things in life.
Priorities first.
Reaching out, I grab one of Asia's slender hands and place it above her head. She lets me guide her and seems to catch on quick, spreading her fingers and wrapping them around the spokes. I move her left hand next, placing it above the same wooden spoke.
She’s standing with her feet pressed against the floor and her chest heaving, eyes burning with passion. And I haven’t even touched her yet.
“Keep your hands there,” I order in a low voice.
She dips her chin.
“Touch me and I stop.”
She dips her chin again.
Damn.
I’m about to lose it just from watching her watch me.
