Page 64 of Asher

She could feel him explode inside of her. His hand was hot and heavy on her breast. Possessive. Pulsating. Squeezing and almost letting go. Then squeezing again. Marlowe liked his hand on her. Her man was banked coals, and she was the breath who’d set him on fire. Her. With just her body and her hands. That was why he glowed. She’d made him happy.

Asher curled his torso up into hers and pulled her down against him. “God, I love you, Marlowe. Don’t go back to Afghanistan. Stay with me. Please, just stay.”

Her body went lax, melted against the delicious wall of steaming muscle beneath her. Breathing in a deep breath of sheer contentment, she nuzzled her nose into all she held dear. Marlowe hadn’t ever felt binding emotions like these before.

“I love you,” she murmured, inhaling the earthy scent of her lover into her heart. Absorbing his sweaty goodness. Wishing she could climb inside of Asher and live there the rest of her life. “I’ve made up my mind and I’m staying.”

His arm tightened around her. He kissed her head. That made her smile. She met him halfway. Their mouths locked, their tongues licked and tasted. His chest heaved a magnificent sigh, lifting her. Asher was happy, and Marlowe had found what she’d been searching for all of her life. This man. This battered warrior. She wasn’t letting him go.

Until someone with a death wish knocked on his front door. Grumpily, Marlowe eased away from her lover. Squee! She had a lover! Running to the bathroom, she took quick care of business and pulled on a fresh tank top and yoga pants, courtesy ofKelsey. By then Asher had elevated that awesome chaise lounge and was sitting up.

Hmmm. Marlowe needed to know how to do that.

He looked pleased with himself. Her heart stalled. Why was she answering the door instead of running back to bed and snuggling Asher for the rest of the day?Oh, yeah. The door.

He blew her a kiss and a sexy, “Hurry back, honey.”

“If this is Beau, I’m gonna kill him.”

Jerking the door open, she was prepared to blast whoever was on Asher’s front step to smithereens. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Marlowe stepped out and closed the door behind her. “Mom?”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Don’t forget to disable the security system,” Asher called out just as Marlowe closed the door. He reached for his cell to notify TEAM HQ of an incoming false alarm when his phone vibrated. Asher hit ACCEPT, put the phone to his ear, and—

“What the fuck’s going on?” Beau bellowed. “Who’s that bitch? Why’s Marlowe getting into that creepy hippie van with her?”

Asher straightened. “What do you mean?”

“The bitch who was just at your door, dumbass. The one who’s driving away with Marlowe girl.”

“Where are you?”

“Parked down the street, watching your place.”

Asher jumped to his feet. Not a smart move. His shoulder screamed to sit back down, but fuck it. He hurried to the door and jerked it open in time to watch an old Volkswagen bus pull away from his curb. With Marlowe nowhere in sight.

“She’s in that ugly V-dub?

“She is now. I’m right behind them. You ever seen that woman before?”

“No. Gotta go.” Asher shouldn’t have let Marlowe answer his door. Panicking, he stuffed the phone in his pants and headed through the kitchen to his garage, tearing the thick bandages off his shoulder, chest, and arm as he walked. He stopped long enough to unlock his gun safe and strap on his double holster, loaded pistols already loose in the cups.

Grabbing the keys off the hook by the door, he walked as quickly to his car as he could. Whoever the bitch in that relic from the seventies was, she was going down.

Activating the automatic garage door opener with a snap of his key fob, he forced his weaker right hand and arm to comply, damn them. Asher climbed gingerly into the sixth-generation 2017 ZL1 Camaro in the third stall over and fired her up. One-handed driving was no handicap when a man was hunting for his woman.

Once on the asphalt, he put his boot in it. In three point five seconds, the supercharged LT4 V-8 under the Camaro’s hood ate up the miles between him and Beau. The hippie bus was only a few car lengths ahead.

Asher gunned the engine and hit the hands-free option on his steering wheel. “Where is she?” he barked when Beau answered. “Have you caught sight of her yet?”

“Negative. Heston’s coming up quick on your tail. I’m in sight of the target. Don’t worry. She’s inside that van, I gawddamned watched her get into it. I won’t let—”

BOOM!

A silver monster truck came out of nowhere, broadsiding Beau’s much smaller, climate-friendly truck. Pushed it across both lanes and onto the opposite shoulder.

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