His name fell from her lips as a plea. It was the sexiest fucking thing he’d ever heard in his life. He couldn’t wait to hear it again when he was buried to the hilt inside her.
One more circle of his thumb, a little extra pressure, and she detonated in his arms. He lifted his lashes to watch her come apart, and wondered again why the fuck he’d insisted on dinner first?
The answer was swift. Because with her, he really did want more than sex. She was worth the wait. She was worth the cold shower.
Oh, hell, who was he kidding? He was going to memorize this moment and use it as he took the edge off himself later.
Her eyes were closed as he withdrew his hand, smoothed her pants, and pressed a gentle kiss to her soft mouth.
“Wow,” she breathed. The dark fan of her lashes lifted on her languid green eyes and a very satisfied grin curved her lips. “Thank you.”
He gave a soft laugh. “You’re welcome, and thank you. How’s seven tomorrow for dinner?”
Regret drew her eyebrows down in a frown. “I can’t do tomorrow. I have to finish this cake.”
“Friday?”
She lifted a hand to palm his face, expression contrite. “I’m sorry, but I need every moment before I deliver the cake Saturday afternoon. But after that, I’m free for the evening, and all of Sunday before two-cake hell-week starts.”
Holy blue balls, man. That was three whole days away.
“I’m really sorry,” she repeated with a sheepish little grin tugging at her mouth.
“Don’t apologize.” He drew in a deep, fortifying breath and dropped a quick peck on her lips. “Saturday it is.”
When he pushed to his feet and started to go, she flipped over and scrambled to her knees while reaching over the arm of the couch to catch his hand. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
Her gaze dropped to his crotch and blood surged straight to his still-rock-hard erection. “You don’t want me to—”
He leaned down and smothered her words with a hard kiss. If he heard that offer from her tempting lips, he’d be unzipping his jeans in two seconds flat. “Sweet dreams, Butter Cream.”
“Butter Cream?” she sputtered as he strode away.
“Yep,” he tossed over his shoulder while opening the door. “It’s my favorite.”
Frosting was not a satisfying substitute for sex, but by Friday afternoon, it was the best option Asher had since he didn’t trust himself to go over by Honor’s and keep his hands to himself. He’d texted both days since Wednesday night, because he’d wanted to let her know he was thinking of her, and each time she’d sent back cute replies. Cheeky replies. Replies that made him want to run across the street to see her smile and hear her laugh. Taste her lips and touch her in ways that made her entire body tremble in his arms.
So yeah, he was on day two of Operation Stay Away Until Saturday. Which meant after biking fifteen miles, cutting the grass, and finishing up the last of the digital photo edits for the climbing school brochure, he’d had to come down to Lift Your Spirit to get his sugar fix.
Normally, he’d say five dollars for a cupcake was highway robbery, but Honor’s were worth every penny plus tax.
Over by the café tables, Darcy finished sweeping and wiping up, and picked up her cleaning supplies tote to carry to the back office. “All set here. Anything else before I go?” she asked Roxanna.
“Nope. Thanks, and I’ll see you Tuesday. Have a good weekend.”
“You, too. See ya, Asher.”
With his mouth full of the last bite of fix number two, Asher gave the bubbly, part-time blond a nod and grin before turning back to Rox. He washed the cupcake down with a swig of coffee while she unpacked another Himalayan salt lamp from her most recent order. He’d been listening to her bitch and moan about her frustrations with office paperwork and her hatred of balancing her profit and loss sheets, but with Darcy gone, she gave him a sideways glance.
“Have you talked to your parents lately?”
“Not since brunch last Sunday. They’ve been busy with the campaign. Why?”
She carried the lamp to an empty display spot and plugged it in. “I was getting a weird vibe at the party.”
“Wasn’t that from Honor?”
“No, this was different.”
Something odd in her tone set him on edge. Asher tilted his head with a slight frown when she came back to get another lamp. “What do you mean?”
“It’s hard to explain,” she said. “I was just curious if you’d heard anything from your mom or dad this week.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know.” Exasperation tinged her voice. “You know it doesn’t work that way.”
“Yeah, well, they would’ve called if I needed to know anything important.”
“You’re right.” She met his gaze and offered a brief, reassuring smile before taking the lamp in her hands to the left side of the shop this time. “It was probably nothing. There was a lot going on that night.”
“That there was,” he agreed. And yet, his stomach gave another uneasy roll. Because nothing was ever nothing with Roxanna.
“So…dinner with Honor tomorrow,” she said in an obvious change of subject. “Where are you taking her?”
“I have a couple places in mind,” he said vaguely.
She twisted slightly to look at him. After a long moment, she turned back to adjusting the lamp. “Go with option number two.”
He narrowed his gaze. “You have no idea where I’m even thinking of.”
“I got a feeling. Just trust me.”
“We’ll see,” he muttered. But he would trust her. He’d been leaning toward that one anyway.
The store’s lone customer approached the counter, and having helped here and there in the past, Asher rang up the sale with a friendly smile, then pulled the last two lamps from the packing box and set them next to the register for Roxanna to take care of.
It was just the two of them again, so he boosted himself up to sit on the counter and took another drink of coffee to fortify himself for his change of subject. “I have some news for you.”
Roxanna made a face as she joined him at the counter. “I don’t want to hear this any more than you want to tell me.”
Spot on.
“What makes you say that?” he bluffed.
She rolled her eyes as if he’d asked a stupid question. “Besides your voice being all ominous, your aura is all over the place, Ace. When I asked you about dinner with Honor, you were all light yellow optimism, and red sexual energy, with a little bit of lovey-dovey pink. But I could tell the moment you started thinking about your news. Everything shifted blue—and not the good shades.”
“Damn, you’re good.”
“That goes without saying,” she quipped with a smirk. “Just spit it out already.”
“I talked to Loyal earlier.”
The mention of his older brother brought forth a frown and muttered, “Explains the shitty blue shades.”
“After he finishes his current audit project with our uncle’s company in Texas, he’s moving back to Colorado. Probably in time for Christmas.”
With one hand on the counter, she braced her other on her hip. Her long, brunette curls slipped over her shoulder as she tipped her head to the right. “And I care about this why?”
He went for levity to try to ease the tension. “Well, for one, I know you have a thing for him, and two—”
“I do not have a thing for your jackass brother.”
“Sure you do,” he teased, waggling a finger in front of her face. “You’re not the only one who can intuit things.”
She batted his hand away and glared at him. “The only thing I have for Loyal is an intense desire to never see him again.”
Asher cringed as he ran his finger along the seam of his cup. “That might be a little difficult.”
Suspicion deepened her frown. “Why?”
“I told him he could use the second floor apartment.”
“This second floor apartment?” She jabbed a finger toward the ceiling.
“Do you know of any others I own?”
Un-amused by his light joke, she huffed out a breath as her shoulders slumped. “But why in the world would he stay here? Why not with you, or your parents? Or a hotel, for that matter?”
Asher scoffed as he slid off the counter. “He’s not going to move back home at thirty-one, Rox. And my mom would be hurt if he stayed in a hotel.”
“Fine. Then tell him to buy his own place. It’s not like he can’t afford it.”
“He will. This would only be temporary—if he even uses it at all. I just wanted to give you advance warning that it could happen. You know, in like six months. Maybe.”
She made another annoyed face, then all of a sudden her eyes widened and relief filled her expression. “This is it.”
“What?”
“This is the weird vibe from the party. I thought it was from your parents, but it was because of Loyal.” Just saying his name brought back her frown. “God, he really is a jackass.”
“You so want him,” he teased.
Her fist slammed into his bicep. “Shut. Up.”
“Ow.” He rubbed his still sore shoulder—plus, she packed a wallop.
“I mean it, Asher. There better not be another word about it out of your mouth. Ever.”
He’d been joking, but she sounded angry. Or maybe upset was the better word. He raised his left hand while using his right to draw an X over his heart in a promise of silence. Her fierce glare before she walked away had him wondering if she was protesting too much.
The joy that sparked when Loyal told him he was moving home made him realize how much he’d missed having him around the past four years. There had been a twinge of anxiety when he thought of the hostility between his brother and his best friend, but now he was left wondering if the hate Rox seemed to harbor for Loyal was hiding something else?
That worried him more than their animosity. Rox’s capacity for love would make whoever won her over a very lucky man. He wanted her to find the happiness she deserved, but Loyal was more likely to break her heart than cherish it.
Speaking of which, how would Honor handle his heart? She hadn’t used the argument about them being neighbors since their first kiss. In fact, she hadn’t used any argument against them having a relationship since their first kiss, and tomorrow they’d go to dinner and hopefully more. Would she someday admit what they had could last, or was he leaving himself wide open for a world of hurt?
Chapter 20
“And then he just left?”
“Yep,” Honor confirmed. “Walked out and hasn’t knocked on my door since.”
“Why am I just hearing about this three days later?” Mae turned her face into the breeze as she reached up to dislodge a strand of hair stuck to her lips. “We need to talk more often.”
“We’d both have to be less busy.” She leaned against the side of her friend’s truck outside the house of her current kitchen remodel. With the sun shining down on their Saturday morning coffee break, her petite friend looked cute in her red company logo shirt, jeans, leather tool belt, and brown, steel-toed work boots.
“True, but you gotta call me with this kind of stuff. Especially if he starts ghosting you afterward.” Indignation sharpened her tone.
“Oh, no, sorry. He’s texted each day, but I thought for sure he’d stop by again.”
Hoped he’d stop by, because it seemed her Asher addiction was a real thing. Expected him to stop by because, clearly, she was a sure thing.
“You’d think,” Mae agreed, “but then again, you did tell him you had to work.”
“I didn’t think it would keep him completely away. Other stuff aside, it was fun talking to him while I worked.” His sexy voice was ten times better than music.
“He probably doesn’t trust himself not to sling you over his shoulder to ravish in your bedroom.”
“Yeah, right.” Though just imagining that scenario sent a giddy wave of heat through her body.
“I’m serious.” Mae’s smile softened. “He respects you. That’s sweet.”
“It is, but it’s also frustrating when I know he fantasizes about me baking naked.” Right now, she wanted the fantasy, not the respect.
No, you don’t.
No, she didn’t.
Well, she did, but she didn’t. Yes, the man had rocked her world with just his fingers and his mouth, and in true Asher fashion, left her wanting more. But, his texts had been thoughtful, playful, and even the sassier ones had been kind of romantic. Every time her phone alerted an incoming text, her pulse sped up and her heart smiled. She was like Pavlov’s dog expecting a treat.
“He totally gets points for not acting on that fantasy when you would’ve let him,” Mae pointed out. “I will say though, as much as I want to hear these things, maybe keep the naked baking to yourself. That’s an image I don’t want in my head when I walk into your kitchen.”
“I told you about the couch, and the kitchen is the image you don’t want?”
Mae shrugged.
Honor laughed as she added, “If it helps, he said I’m wearing my apron.”
“Nope.” She gave a shudder. “That’s even worse.”
“How is that worse?”
“Because I just tried to figure out if the apron covers everything.”
“It doesn’t. I got curious myself.”
Mae planted her free hand on her hip, nose scrunched. “Why would you tell me that?”
Honor fought a grin. “No secrets between friends?”
“Fine. If that’s the case, I’m going to need to see your sketch of Asher.”
“Oh, hell no. I’m not sharing that with you after you flooded my driveway with drool last weekend.”
“Don’t make me revoke best friend status.”
Honor ignored the warning finger pointed in her direction. “You won’t revoke anything. Dinner is tonight.”
“Ooh.” Her eyes brightened. “I’m going to need you to call me tomorrow with all the sexy details.”
Honor arched her brows. “Need me to?”
“Hey, I told you, hearing about your sex life is the best I got these days.”
“So far, it’s only the potential for a renewed sex life,” she cautioned.
“Please. If that man doesn’t have you for dessert tonight I’ll eat my work boot.”
Anticipation tickled her stomach. “He’s picking me up at seven. He said to dress up for the—and I quote—whole nine yards.”
“Nice. And then afterwards…” Mae waggled her eyebrows with a sassy grin.
Afterwards, neighbor-schmeibor and respect be damned. She was going to seduce him with her cupcakes—and not the ones she’d baked this morning. After the taste he’d given her Wednesday night, she wanted all of him tonight.
Every. Single. Inch.
Honor turned sideways in the mirror, smoothing her palms over her fluttery stomach as her gaze traveled the length of her classic black dress, down to her black heels. Sleeveless, with a high neckline, the dress was fitted in the bust, torso, and waist, and had a slight flare in the skirt that swirled around her legs just below her knees.
Asher had refused to answer her text asking where they were going, but unless it was some sort of formal event, this would suffice for pretty much anywhere. The evenings were still cooler for the end of May, so she grabbed her new, rust colored shawl from the dresser when she heard the faint sound of the Camaro’s engine roaring to life across the street.
Her stomach went from fluttery to whirlwind as she made her way down the stairs. Of course, her mom would say to make him wait, don’t seem too eager, but she’d been waiting to see him again for three days. Besides, making a man stand out on the front porch had always seemed rude to her—especially if they were on time.
Which he was.
Heart pounding hard, she walked to the door after Asher’s knock and then promptly lost her breath when she opened the doo
r to his gorgeous smile.
“Hey,” he greeted.
“Hey back,” she managed, surprised her voice sounded mostly normal. Then she just stared, taking in his stylishly mussed hair, scruff-dusted jaw, forest green dress shirt, black pants, and polished shoes. He looked so good. Better than—
A bouquet of yellow-orange Gerber daisies suddenly filled her vision, and she blinked to refocus her attention. She took them and lifted her gaze to his. The heat in his amber eyes warmed her from the inside out.
“Thank you,” she murmured, stepping aside for him to come in. “I’ll just put them in some water before we go.”
When he drew even with her, she moved to close the door, but he caught her around the waist and tugged her against him from hip to chest. Surprise jerked her head up as his dipped and his mouth crushed against hers.
The door was forgotten as she wound her free arm around his neck and pulled herself closer. His tongue swept inside her mouth, searching and exploring, his teeth scraping and nipping until she whimpered with mindless pleasure and dropped the flowers to cling to him with both arms. Moments later, he pushed her up against the wall and leaned his forehead against hers. His palm gently cupped the side of her face as his thumb brushed her cheek.
Their labored breath heated the air between them as he whispered, “Sorry. I didn’t give you much warning there, did I?”
“Hmm,” she hummed, thankful his firm body offered support for her weak knees. “Never apologize for a kiss like that.”
“I couldn’t help myself. It was torture not seeing your beautiful face these past three days, and then you opened the door, and there you were, in this dress.” He skimmed his hand from her face, to her shoulder, down over her ribs, to the curve of her waist.
Damn, the man was good.
Acutely aware of his hard length against her belly, she twirled her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck. “Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed away.”
“I didn’t want to bother you. You had a cake to finish.”
“I did, but now it’s all done and delivered.”
“Will the bride and groom be happy?”
“Very happy. And you bothered me anyway.”
Must Love Frosting Page 14