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Too many emotions streak through her like those shooting stars. And yet fighting them seems foolish. So she says, breathlessly, “Yes.”
One word shouldn’t feel so dangerous, but it does.
It’s what he always suspected. She is a cat.
Beside him, Ash stretches and flexes in the sheets. Wild black hair, long limbs, sunlight on her porcelain skin. Christ. The places he can explore. New details he can uncover. Like the little arrow on the curve of her ass.
“You up?” he asks, leaning over her to kiss her back.
“Mmm.” The sheets rustle. “No thanks to you.”
Her low, throaty moan has him hard again. He can still feel her on him. When she came to him early this morning after his grandfather had gone to coffee. She jumped into his arms, and they fucked for hours.
And now it’s noon. They missed breakfast and the art museum.
He turns to the balcony. The sun is high in the sky. For him, sleeping in is like a foreign antigen. He’s always tried to fight it off. Clearly, Ash is a creature of sloth and habit. He leans over again. This time to kiss her bare shoulder. His beautiful creature.His dangerous obsession.
For the last two days, they haven’t stopped. Sneaking away to fuck each other after bottomless brunches. Conversations that blow his mind, right before she blows him.
His hands must be magnetized for her, because any hallway, any elevator, he automatically finds her. So absorbed in Ash Keller that it unnerves him to think he’s lost his head over a woman like this.
It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.
She’s unlike anyone he’s ever known before.
Irascible, infuriating, irritating, and irresistible.
He runs a hand down her spine to the curve of her ass. “You have good bones.”
A dark head pops out of the comforter. A smile curves her lips. “Thinking of carving me up?”
He brackets her jaw. “Not anytime soon.”
Mischief flares in her gray-green eyes. “You’re becoming very aggressive,” she murmurs before their lips meet and he kisses her senseless.
Ash moans and tugs him on top of her. Goddamn, he could get used to this. Kissing this woman every day for the rest of his life.
But he can’t go there. He needs to reroute his brain.
This is a vacation no-strings no-feelings fuck.
Still, to reduce Ash to that? It makes him feel like a fucking shithead.
A knock on the door.
“Shit.” Ash pulls back in a panic and dives back under the covers.
“Room service,” he deadpans.
Somehow, they’ve made it through the last two days without getting caught. He doesn’t feel the need to sneak around, but Ash is adamant that no one know. She never stays over. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him.
He answers the door, lets in the valet and waits while the food is set up. All the while, Ash stays buried in the mound of pillows.
After tipping the valet, he shakes the bed. “Coast is clear, Bigfoot.”
The comforter whips off the bed, and then Ash is blinking into the sun. She’s naked, bare-faced and beautiful. The way his body reacts is ridiculous.
“We have food. Hydration.” He points at the white-tableclothed table set up with a spread. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I ordered…”
