Page 82 of Desiring an Angel

30

Rhett

Ingesting a half-glass of wine and our appetizer sent Ash rushing to the bathroom.

He returned a full ten minutes later, pale and shaky, unable to eat the dinner that had been delivered in his absence. We boxed the food up to take with us. Ashton’s “I’m fine—just a bug or something” rang false in my ears, but he waved me off the two times I tried to question him.

We’d left his car at the office, and I told him we could head in together in the morning after dropping Skylar at work. Arriving a little later than my usual time would be fine.

I didn’t want him driving alone.

Allowing him his mental space, I held his hand atop his thigh on the way home from the restaurant.

“Sure you’re okay, baby?” I murmured when his head tipped back against the headrest.

“Everything will be fine. I just need to sleep.”

Skylar has been wearing his ass out—

I cut the thought because they didn’t fuck more than he and I had before she’d entered our lives. But, I had taken him hard and rough over my desk earlier that day.

The memory twitched my groin with interest, but I set aside fantasies of doing anything more than cuddling chest to chest.

He’d told Skylar he and I were going on a date, and she offered to sleep in the guest room so we could have some alone time.

I didn’t want to appreciate her selflessness, but I did.

Immensely.

Once home, I insisted we shower, taking my time to wash Ash from head to toe. He sank into my focused attention as though soaking every caress, every loving touch to his skin as gentle rain-like water from the shower heads above us filled the room with steam and soothing warmth.

Dried and naked, we crawled into our bed, both of us letting out sighs as we pressed in close together in a cocoon of heated bodies and soothing hands.

Ashton’s paleness had lessened, but he seemed…frail. Fragile.

He slid a hand between us and pressed a fist to his sternum like he had indigestion.

“Sure you’re okay?” I whispered and kissed his forehead, his damp hair tickling my nose.

“Just tired and achy.” He snuggled in closer, and I trailed my fingertips down his spine.

“I’m sorry for taking you so hard today.”

“Don’t be. It was hot as fuck.”

I chuckled, loving the smile in his voice.

“It reminded me of when we were teenagers and couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

I still couldn’t get enough of him, but we’d definitely lost some of the desperation we’d had as kids.

Kissing him again, I breathed in the scent of the body wash we shared, woodsy with hints of spice beneath. I could easily lick every inch of his skin, grow hard, and beg for his ass again, but he lay unmoving, exhausted.

“Want me to give you a blow job?” he asked, making me smile again.

“Sleep, baby,” I murmured, loving how easily he read my mind so I wouldn’t have to use words. “But you can wake me up that way if you want.”

“I do want,” he whispered, already half asleep.

---