Page 106 of Twisted Truth

And suddenly, I see another facet of him. Asher gives, but he has trouble receiving. He doesn’t ask for help, and he certainly doesn’t like to appear weak. And he keeps everyone but his family and a few select others at a distance.

“People would care if you allowed them to get close to you.”

“People love to pretend to care and fawn over me.” His words are a bit slurred. “But in the end, all they truly care about is what they can get from me. When you have the ability to give people the world, they start to expect it. I am nothing if not an ATM in a suit.”

My heart sinks. I move forward until I’m standing above him. He looks up at me. I reach out and cup his jaw in my palm and run my thumb along the scruff of his cheek. “Is that what you really think of yourself? That you’re nothing more than the money in your bank accounts?”

“And a Langford.”

“Those are two things about you. They’re not who you are.”

“In my world, those two things are all that matter.”

“Then your world is shit.”

He stares at me but doesn’t say anything. And though he tries to hide it, I can see the hurt and vulnerability in his eyes. He really believes this to be true. He really thinks that he isnothing more than his name and his money. Or at least he’s been convinced of it enough times that he’s started to believe it.

I bend down and take his face in both of my hands, then look straight into his sad blue eyes. “Asher. You are so much more than your name and your money. And anyone who tries to convince you otherwise is a damned fool.”

He swallows hard.

“I wish that were true,” he whispers.

“Itistrue.”

His eyes close, and he drops his head, pressing it against my stomach. I thread my hands through his hair and hold him to me. I lightly run my nails over his scalp, trying to find any way to comfort him. I’m not sure why I’m so compelled to comfort him tonight. I should be keeping a distance between us. But for some reason, it’s like his pain is my pain, and I can’t stop myself from wanting to drive it away from him.

“Whatever is going on, I know you’ll sort it out. You’re brilliant and determined.”

He lets out a long breath.

“But more importantly, you need to understand that if all of your money disappeared tomorrow, you would be exactly the same person as you are today. Because if you think your money is all that’s important about you, then you’re wrong. Almost no one in the world has the money you have, and they all matter just the same as you. We’re all human at the end of the day. And we all deserve to have people love us for who we are, not based on where we fall on the scale of monetary value.”

His hands slide up my hips, and he grips my waist like a lifeline.

“Iseeyou, Asher. And you’re enough, just as yourself.”

He lifts his head, and our eyes meet again. His eyes are still sad, hesitant—but they’re also tinged with something more. Something that looks like hope.

His hands fist at my waist, and he jerks me down towardhim. His lips crash against mine, and he lifts me on top of him, hiking up my dress so that I can straddle him. I open my mouth to him and groan as his tongue slips inside. He tastes like whiskey and everything I shouldn’t want but can’t say no to.

That voice in my head yells at me again that this is a bad idea, but the happy waves of alcohol bliss shush the voice. I sink into him and let go, forgetting everything but the pull of him and how much I want to give in to it.

His hand snakes its way up my bare thigh.

“This fucking dress,” he growls against my lips. “All night I haven’t been able to focus on anything except the way you look in this dress. Teasing me, torturing me.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I don’t like it, I fuckinglove it.”

He nips at my neck then sucks and kisses his way down to my chest. No matter how hard I try to convince myself to stop this, I can’t. I don’t want to. In this moment I don’t want anything but this.

Asher runs his tongue over the swell of my breasts above my dress, and I arch my back, pressing against him. His hand slips beneath my dress and runs up the inside of my thigh. Sparks ignite in my core. And I know I shouldn’t, but I lift my hips slightly to give him more access. He brushes a finger over my center. I groan and buck my hips against his touch, craving more.

“You like that?” he teases.

“Yes.”