Then I slam her down on me.
We both groan as she sinks onto me, tight, hot, and exactly where she belongs. Her nails scrape down my chest, her head tipping back as she takes every inch.
I grit my teeth and lock my hands around her hips as I fight the urge to thrust up into her. “You feel so fucking good,” I mutter, watching her through heavy-lidded eyes. “It’s like you were made for me.”
She moans and rolls her hips slowly, torturously, her movements sending fire licking down my spine. “Maybe I was.”
That statement does it.
I surge forward, capturing her mouth with mine, kissing her deep and filthy as she starts moving in earnest. Her body rocks against me as she chases her release, and I feel my own coming as well.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” I rasp against her lips, gripping her harder and moving faster now. “Let me feel it.”
She whimpers, and her body tenses, her nails biting into my skin. “Ash.”
I swallow her moan with another kiss, pushing her straight over the edge. She trembles against me. Her body is clenched so tight that I lose it, and pleasure crashes into me so hard that I see stars.
For a long moment, the only sound is our heavy breathing and the faint hum of music from inside the bar.
Then Amelia slumps against me, her forehead resting against mine. I trace my hands down her back, savoring the feel of her in my arms, the way she fits like she belongs there.
A slow grin tugs at the corner of my mouth as I press a kiss to her.
“So,” I say, still breathless, “what is my rating, Commander?”
She tries not to laugh, her fingers sliding lazily through my hair. “Solid ten.”
I grin and nip at her jaw. “Damn right.”
Ikick off my heels the second I step through the door, wincing as the dull ache in my feet reminds me why I never wear them. My purse lands on the couch, and I sink down beside it, my head dropping back against the cushions. The room is quiet—too quiet—except for the distant hum of the city outside my window.
I should go to bed. Wash my face. Drink some water. Do something productive. Instead, I sit there, replaying the night in my head like an idiot.
Ash was… Ash. Effortlessly charming, infuriatingly good-looking, and way too easy to be around. The way he laughs, the way he leans in just a little too close when he talks, the way his hand brushed mine more times than could be accidental—and that’s exactly the problem.
I exhale sharply, dragging a hand down my face. This is not happening. I’m not developing feelings. I can’t. I promised myself I wouldn’t.
This was supposed to be fun. No strings. No complications. Just two people enjoying each other’s company without the mess of emotions getting in the way.
So why does my heart feel like it’s trying to betray me?
I pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them like that’ll somehow hold me together. Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe it’s just the alcohol still buzzing faintly in my system, making everything feel more intense than it actually is.
But deep down, I know better.
This isn’t the first time I’ve felt the edges of something dangerous creeping in. And if I’m not careful, I know exactly where this road leads.
I need to get my head on straight. Set boundaries. Keep my distance.
Before it’s too late.
Me: We have a problem.
I laymy phone down and pick up my coffee. What the hell was I thinking last night?
Oh wait, I know what I was thinking. Ash fucking Carr and his magical dick, that’s what I was thinking.
As I turn on the TV, my phone finally chimes with an incoming text.
