Page 98 of The Best Men
He sighs softly, a throaty rumble finishing off the sound. And for the first time ever, I feel like I’m seducing him.
It’s a good feeling, and it drives me on.
I brush another soft kiss to his warm skin, then loop my hands through his damp strands. “Floofy when wet too,” I whisper, but he has no time to protest since I nip his earlobe, and the moan that falls from his lips is my reward.
I take my time, coasting lazy kisses along his neck as his hand slides down my side, his leg hooking over mine.
We’re not quite indecent, and that feels right too. This afternoon delight. I want to stay here forever—on vacation with him, my body floating in this state of suspended desire, his husky voice gliding over my skin. “I meant what I said about last night, Banks,” he says. “I enjoyed it just as much as . . .”
I can’t hide my smile even as I deflect. “You did not.”
He grabs my hand, threads his fingers through mine. “I did, Banks. Trust me, I did.”
And I decide to trust that it’s the truth. “Me too. I think,” I say. “I remember maybe five seconds.”
“You were out of it, and it was still . . . good for me.”
My chest squeezes. Why does he have to say those things?
“I liked your text too,” I say, pushing the limits with that barest admission. “That was good for me,” I add, using his words, since it’s easier than coming up with my own right now.
“I'm not always an arrogant dick,” Asher says with a naughty hum in his voice, tracing circles on my hip bone with his thumb.
“Every now and then you're not,” I tease. “Will you miss Flip when he’s busy being a dad?” I ask, since that’s got to be on Asher’s mind. I called him the wingman for a reason. That’s what they are to each other.
He chuckles. “You’re so good at switching topics. And to answer your question . . . yes. Everyone’s life is changing,” Asher says, more pensive than usual.
“True, but you’ll still have plenty to keep busy. Work and stuff,” I say, since the man likely has a crazy schedule lined up of sexy photo shoots and glamorous parties when we return to New York and go our separate ways.
“I will, but it doesn’t mean I won’t miss . . . the good times.” He punctuates those last words with a sweep of his lips along my neck.
Exactly.
This isgood times.
This is not anything else.
I’d do well to remember that.
And when I run into him in New York?since that’s inevitable?I’ll thank myself for sticking to my own rules.
“The good times have been fun. And soon, it’s back to reality for this, as you’d probably call me,nerdy single dad,” I say.
His grin stretches to his eyes. “I do call you that affectionately. You’re a good dad, Mark. I admire that,” Asher says.
I shouldn’t need his compliment on my parenting skills, but I like it all the same. “See? Sometimes you’re not an arrogant prick at all,” I say drily, then spread my hand across his abs.
Asher laughs. “As long as it’s only sometimes. You’re impossible to compliment, actually. You hardly ever let down your guard.”
“I know.” I take a beat then say something hard. “Although I do appreciate the kind words.”
He gives me another kiss. Another soft flick of his tongue, and a gentle wave rolls down my body. “You let down your guard in other ways. I don’t have to read you with words.”
Do I truly want to know how he’s reading me? No idea, but mostly, I don’t want him to stop reading me. Or touching me.
At least for today.
This is all I want today.
