them. They each look like they could rock the cover of a Sports Illustrated, although for different reasons, so you really can’t blame me. But this whole time, I’ve kept my shields up. Told myself that I couldn’t be with them for all of these different reasons.
Now I’m having a harder time remembering why. Especially after how well everyone was getting along over the summer, and how all four of them have continued to stick by me despite all my prickliness and sarcasm.
I’ve started to think about them more as possible partners.
Partners in life. Partners in crime.
Partners in all the crazy bullshit the world might throw at us—the kind that makes you want to grab the best people you know and keep them close by.
And these four men are the best people I know, outside of Maddy.
I want them. So much.
I’ve already made out with Asher a few times, and I can remember each of those times as clearly as if it were yesterday. There’s something about the way he takes his time with me, how he refuses to rush and seems to read my body like an open book, that just completely unravels me.
When he and Cam took me into that empty classroom at the Inter-academy Ball… holy fuck, that was one of the hottest experiences of my life, and we didn’t even go all the way. But the way they worked together, Cam kissing me while Asher worked his tongue over my clit—Jesus, they had me dripping wet and begging for them.
My mind is drowning in memories, and they’re all so vivid they’re making my body flush. My core feels hot and swollen, and an ache is building inside me that makes me shift restlessly on the soft cushions.
Asher’s hand falls to my knee, giving a gentle squeeze.
I know him pretty well by now, so I can say with ninety percent confidence that he just means the gesture to be reassuring. But that’s sure as hell not how it feels. Heat crawls up my body, and I have to swallow hard as I try to concentrate on the movie.
The bad guy just ran into a warehouse, and the two mismatched buddy cops are debating whether they should follow or wait for backup, but right now, I just can’t bring myself to care.
Asher is so warm next to me, and I can feel the firmness of his muscles. He’s trim, but he’s a swimmer and a good fighter, and you can tell when you touch him. There’s no give anywhere. And he smells so good, like citrus and lemongrass. We’re close enough that I could easily turn my face and bury it in his shoulder.
I want to.
I want to inhale him, to imprint his scent on my soul.
My body’s been filled with tension this whole week after the attack on Tom, on top of how I was already feeling, and now my mind is screaming at me about a very good way to relieve that tension.
Asher’s hand stays on my knee, his body crammed up against mine, for the next ten minutes… and then I just can’t take it anymore.
I grab his wrist and slide his hand up from my knee to the top of my thigh.
He stiffens, then turns his head and looks at me. His expression changes immediately as he reads the look on my face.
“Elliot…” His voice is rough, and his gaze flicks down my body. He looks like he’s starving for me.
Good. I’m starving too. I’m dying for this.
So I take it one step further and move his hand right between my legs. His breath hitches, and his fingers shift, one dragging along the seam of my jeans, pressing down on my clit through the denim, rubbing in small, concentric circles. I whimper, shivering as heat pulses through me.
Then I push up and swing my leg over so I’m straddling Asher’s lap, taking his face in my hands and kissing him deep and slow.
“Asher… please, fuck me,” I whisper.
Chapter 9
Okay, so maybe it’s not the most demure, ladylike way to ask for what I want, but that is what I want.
And for as deliberate and careful as Asher can be, as gentle as he can be, I want to see him—feel him—lose control.
I want to be the reason he loses it.
He’s staring at me, our faces so close together that his forest-green eyes have to dart back and forth to focus on mine, and we’re cupping each other’s faces like we’re each holding a precious