Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“Even better,” he nods.
Leave it to Asher to make the impossible possible. We go from his hotel suite to the middle of the Egyptian room at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in under an hour.
It’s eerie and quiet and completely amazing.
We take a seat on one of the concrete benches. Water flows behind us. He grabs my hand, and even though it’s yet another non-friendly gesture, call me stupid but I let it happen. Our fingers clasp and he brings them to rest on his leg. His thumb caresses. It feels right.
Crap.
I allow myself to dive into that false hope.
Our eyes meet and we share a smile.
"I love this place."
"I can tell."
"I’ve been here so many times and still haven’t seen it all. And definitely never like this."
"Well, I've never been here," he laughs. "What’s your favorite exhibit?”
“The period rooms,” I bite my lip.
"Lead the way."
We take a detour through arms and armor. Asher is in awe. He walks up to nearly every piece and examines it.
I follow, staring more at him than anything else. His reactions are entertaining, especially when he starts making up these ridiculously absurd and funny stories.
Pretty soon I can't stop laughing.
Somewhere along the way he takes my hand again and doesn't let go. My body’s betrayal is a constant reminder that I’m not okay with just being friends.
But this is me trying new things.
I push past any wary thoughts and decide to live in the present. Take one moment at a time.
Our eyes meet and I'm taken aback. Those green eyes. They own me. They always have. Maybe for different reasons than years ago, now that I know him. Yet the longing remains, only now it's more intense. He smiles in a way that makes everything else in the world irrelevant. Everything. My hand drops as we enter a small dark room. He doesn't try to pick it up again. I already long for his touch, despite being the one who let go. Thank goodness the lighting is so dim that there's barely any. A gentle glow comes from the cases that hold the artifacts. I'm glad he can't see my face.
“More medieval weapons,” I whisper, grazing over a display while silently reading the description.
A moment later I feel him behind me, even before he clears his throat. The heat of him approaching has me straightening. His hands land on my hips, first the right then the left. I swallow hard as he slowly turns me around, the anticipation excruciating.
"What are you doing?" He's got that cocky, smoldering look - the one he knows no one can resist. "Don’t do that."
"Do what?" he leans in.
"Smile like that," I croak. "It’s creepy."
He lets out a low laugh. "There’s my girl."
My breath hitches. His hand slides up my dress as he pulls me against him. His thumb strokes my skin. I have nowhere to go, my ass practically on the display case. I'm sure this is definitely against policy. "Is this okay?" his eyes darken.
No. Yes.
His lips devour.
Soft at first, steady, until I feel his body relax and he deepens the kiss.
I have no objections.
His mouth is controlling.
Demanding.
We're moving faster.
I can't find my next breath.
Suddenly there's a loud moan. I'm not sure who it came from.
Maybe we both let it slip.
I match his newly quickened pace. Or perhaps it's me needing this and setting the speed.
Full throttle.
Don't stop.
I've never kissed like this before.
The next thing I know I'm being lifted onto the case. My legs wrap around him.
I'm lost.
I don’t know how much time passes. How long we do this. There's a state of euphoria. A cloud of goodness. A buzz. Something tells me sex with him would be wild. I've never had wild sex before. I thought it was something in movies and books. Made up. Animalistic need doesn't exist, until it does. I need him more than my next breath.
I don't remember how my dress lifted, or undoing the front of his pants. I clearly did. They're undone. Hanging wide open as my hands - the guilty party - linger nearby. His impressive erection pushes his briefs out. It rubs against my underwear with no intentions of stopping there.
Then Tiny clears his throat and we both freeze.
It's only then that I remember where I am and take in my surroundings. The fact that we're not alone, and hell, in the middle of one of the most well-known museums.
Tiny is... not pleased. It's clear that wasn't the first time he tried to get our attention. He's got this look, like we're lucky he's the one who spotted us because it could have been a lot worse, and we should have known that. But there's something else too. Like maybe it's not the first time he's caught Asher in a situation like this.
"Fuck," Asher hisses what I'm thinking.