Page 78 of Asher Black (The Five Syndicates)
mad about René. You’re mad about Monica. You’re mad that she let you down, but you’re also mad that you have to depend on someone else.”
His face hardens.
Bingo.
I hit the jackpot… and won his ire.
But I don’t want him mad at me.
As much as it pains me to admit, Asher actually turned out to be a decent person, maybe even a good person. Definitely a better person than I am. And I maybe sorta don’t hate his guts and like him more than I should… as a friend, of course.
I don’t want Asher to be unhappy, let alone mad at me.
So, I step closer to him and soften my voice, “450 people.”
He gives me a confused look. “450 people?”
“That’s how many people it takes to maintain the White House.” I push him gently until he’s sitting down on the bed.
We’re eye level now, and he lets me step between his legs. This is the closest I’ve been to him in a while. At least with the lights on.
I take a moment to relish in the proximity before I continue, “It takes 450 people to run one household. You’re only one person. As much as it sucks, you can’t expect yourself to know everything that goes on in a company that does business in over seventy countries. Let yourself depend on others, even when someone disappoints you.” I pause for a second, scrunch my nose, and add, “Except Monica. You can fire her. You’re right. She sucks.”
That’s my honest opinion.
My heart fills up when he throws his head back and laughs.
He startles me when his hands go to the back of my bare thighs, lifting the hem of my dress a little with the tips of his long fingers. “I never said she sucks.” He chuckles again. “There’s no love lost between the two of you, is there?”
I shake my head. I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from petulantly saying, “She started it!” It’s true, but it’s also something expected of a five year old child not a twenty year old woman.
His eyes turn serious again. “Thank you.”
The way he thanks me is so honest, so gentle and so genuine. I forget myself for a moment, leaning into him a little further. I want to kiss him, to feel his thanks whispered against my lips. But he backs away and eyes the paper I left on the bed.
“What’s that?” he asks, nodding towards it.
There’s no point in lying. If we’re going to have our first real public appearance together, not including the school event, I need to be prepared for the inevitability of a kiss on the lips. From what I remember, it’s something that’ll dazzle me, no matter how often he does it. I have to be ready for it to happen, so I don’t make a fool of us both and do something like orgasm in public from a kiss.
I reach over and hand the paper to him. Giving him a pointed look that I hope portrays my suspicions about Monica, I say, “I found it folded up and hidden in our questionnaire binders.” I deadpan, “I wonder how that happened…”
He takes the activity sheet from me. “Hmm…” he says, ignoring my last comment as he reads it. “I think we should do it before we leave.”
I nod. I expected as much. We’ll probably have to kiss at least once at the match, and if we have our second kiss in public, my reaction will definitely give this charade away.
I take the paper from him and read aloud, “Step one. Hold hands until the both of you are comfortable enough to move on.”
Asher sends me a mischievous grin as he grabs my hand and yanks me into a hug, which is step two.
“Step three,” he reads before tearing up the paper and leaning forward to kiss me.
His lips are light against mine, a teasing touch that drives me crazy. It feels unreal, almost virginal, to be kissed again after so long, especially by him. A part of me considers that I’m imagining the whole thing.
But then he presses another closed mouthed kiss onto my lips, harder this time, and I open my mouth in response. He groans into it, causing my cheeks to flush, and slides his tongue into my mouth, brushing it against mine. I grab two fistfuls of his shirt, pushing myself closer to him until there is no more space between us.
With both of his hands, he grips my ass, triggering a moan that escapes my mouth and hurdles into his. When he scoots further back on the bed, I follow him, placing both legs on either side of his thighs until I’m straddling him. One of his hands tugs my hair as he deepens the kiss. I respond enthusiastically, grinding my lower half against his stiff erection and savoring the taste of his tongue against mine.
I distantly hear footsteps approaching, but I don’t care. It’s not until someone clears their throat that I stop. I don’t have to look to know it’s Monica. That woman has a cock blocking radar.
