“Riley told me.” His free hand came up to my hip, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt. “Said you had it bad. That I was an idiot for not seeing it.”
“She’s not wrong.”
“No.” His voice dropped lower. “She’s really not.”
I closed the distance. Pressed my mouth to his and felt him open immediately, no hesitation, no holding back. He tasted like the curry, and it clashed with the chickpea residue, but it was fucking perfect. His hand slid from my hip to my lower back, pulling me closer even though the angle was awkward.
I tangled my fingers deeper in his hair and kissed him harder. Not the rough, aggressive way we’d kissed before when it was all anger and frustration and trying to win. This was different. Slower. Like we had time now. Like we didn’t have to rush because we weren’t stealing moments in dark corners anymore and hurrying before we changed our minds.
When I finally pulled back, his pupils were blown wide, and his lips were swollen, and he looked at me like I was something he wanted to keep.
That look stirred something primal in me. Something that made my blood run hot and my fingers tighten in his hair. I wanted him so damn much. I wanted to tear apart whatever remained of his defensive walls and claim every inch of him until there was nothing left between us.
“Get up,” I growled.
Chapter 19
Jude
“Getup.”
The way Ash looked down at me made my brain short-circuit. “I have a fucked ankle.”
“I’m aware.” Ash’s hand slid from my hair to my shoulder, grip firm. “Stand up anyway.”
“That’s not how injuries work.”
“Jude.” He leaned in closer, mouth brushing against my ear. “Trust me. You’re not going to need your legs for what I have in mind.”
Heat shot straight to my cock.Fuck.
He straightened and held out both hands. I stared at them for a second, then grabbed on and let him haul me up. I hobbled on my left before slowly easing my right to the floor. Pain lanced through my ankle the moment I put weight on it, and I hissed.
“Easy.” Ash’s arm came around my waist, supporting me. “I’ve got you.”
Before I could process what he meant, he ducked and wrapped his other arm behind my knees. The world tilted as he hoisted me up and over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.
“What the fuck!” I grabbed onto his back to steady myself; the movement jarred my ankle. “Are you serious right now?”
“Dead serious.” His hand landed on my ass, squeezing once. “Hold on.”
He started walking, and I bounced against his shoulder with each step. The position was ridiculous. Completely absurd. Heat flooded my face, and I was torn between laughing and being genuinely pissed off that he thought this was acceptable. At least he hadn’t tried to carry me bridal style.
“I’m not a sack of flour, you know.”
“You’re lighter than one.” He smacked my ass before heading down the narrow hallway toward my bedroom. “And you talk more.”
“Well then, put me down.”
“In a minute.”
“Ash, I swear to god—”
“What?” He smacked my ass again, and it was a struggle not to moan. “You gonna punish me? From up there?”
I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and hissed. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”