I’m still not sure I can be what she needs. Still not sure I’m cut out for real relationships, since I’m pretty convinced I’m broken when it comes to love. That something fundamental is missing in me, some ability to trust and commit that other people have.
But I also know, with growing certainty, that I can’t stand to let her go.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Kat
I wake to find the other side of the bed empty. The sheets are cool when I reach across, telling me Asher has been up for a while. Long enough that his body heat has completely faded from the fabric.
From downstairs I hear the sounds of someone in the kitchen. The clink of dishes, cabinet doors opening and closing. The faint sizzle of something cooking.
I stare up at the ceiling for a moment, unable to keep the grin off my face. My body feels pleasantly used, deliciously sore in places I’m not used to being sore.
What happened at the barn last night was so fucking hot. The blindfold, the way he took control, the newness of it all. But it was just the beginning. Both of us were so turned on by it that Asher was on me the second we got home. Eating me out against the front door, making me come before we even made it upstairs. Then carrying me to my bedroom and fucking me against the wall, both of us still half-dressed and desperate.
My ass is a little sore this morning, a dull ache that makes itself known when I shift on the mattress. But it’s the good kind of sore. The kind that makes me remember exactly what we did, exactly how it felt. I really, really liked that. Want to do it again. Want to explore more of what my body is capable of feeling.
I throw on leggings and Asher’s button down shirt from yesterday, not bothering with anything else underneath. The fabric smells like him, that mix of cologne and something that’s just his skin. Then I pad down the stairs barefoot, my feet silent on the wood.
The kitchen smells incredible, like coffee and pancakes and something sweet. I find him shirtless at the stove, wearing only jeans that hang low on his hips, flipping pancakes onto a plate. The muscles in his back shift as he works, and I take a moment to just appreciate the view. The broad shoulders, the taper of his waist, the way morning light from the window catches on his skin.
He glances back at me, and his eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. He sets down the spatula and strides over, pulling me into his arms.
“Morning, bright eyes.”
He kisses me, deep and thorough, as if he’s been waiting to do it since he woke up. As if the hours apart while I was sleeping were too long. His hands slide down my back, pulling me closer.
“I thought about taking you to Li’l Dipper again this morning,” he says against my lips. “But I wanted you all to myself. So I’m making pancakes.”
“They smell amazing.”
We kiss again, getting lost in it as his hands slide down to my ass, squeezing. Mine tangle in his hair, which is still messy from sleep, and I can feel him getting hard against my stomach.
Then a hint of burning reaches our noses, the sharp scent of something starting to char.
“Shit!”
Asher breaks apart from me with a curse and runs back to the skillet, scooping out the slightly charred pancake. He laughs as he tosses it in the trash, shaking his head.
“A worthy sacrifice,” he declares, grinning at me over his shoulder.
He finishes the rest of the pancakes without incident, and we settle in at the kitchen table with our coffee. The pancakes are fluffy and golden, and he’s even made bacon—extra crispy, the way I like it.
He steals a piece off my plate, popping it in his mouth with a lopsided smile.
“So I’ve got a few calls to make today,” he informs me between bites. “Hockey stuff, mostly. And I need to head over to my dad’s place this afternoon.”
“Another project?” I blow on my coffee and then take a sip.
“His basement is full of junk. Floor to ceiling in some spots. I want to try to get it cleared out before I leave.” He shrugs. “It would make the house more usable if that space wasn’t just dead storage.”
I hide a smile behind my coffee mug. I’m pretty sure he’s coming up with excuses to spend time with his dad now. Things do seem to slowly be getting better between them, but Asher still needs these practical reasons to justify going over there.
“We should be done for the day by two or three,” he adds. “After that, I’m all yours. Whatever you want to do.”
My stomach flutters a little at his phrasing, and I lean back in my chair. “Good, because I’ve got big plans for you.”
He raises his eyebrows, interest clearly piqued. “Oh yeah? Like what?”
