Page 78 of Get A Fix

And so I did, and it was wild in seconds, and I was bumped back against the door as his hands got under my sweater to my T-shirt and then my skin.

The knocking on the door was a surprise and startled us both.

Since I was the one panting harder, he opened the door, and there was Orson, whom I’d only seen onstage the night before, and Bitsy.

“Hi,” Ash greeted them as I straightened up a bit, not bothering to retuck my T-shirt; you couldn’t see it under the sweater anyway. “What can we do for you?”

“A bunch of us are having lunch and walking through the town, and we’d love it if we could have a meal with you before the craziness of the parties tonight.”

“Certainly,” he agreed. “We’ll follow you.”

“Oh yay, I’m so excited.” She clapped her hands happily.

Ash stepped out first as I took deep breaths to get my libido to calm down. Him shoving me into the hallway, closing the door behind him, and then walking up to me, wrapping me in his arms and breathing down the side of my neck, helped nothing.

“I’m going to be a walking hard-on if you don’t knock it off,” I grumbled, though it was very hard to put any growl in my voice when my breath kept catching.

“Yeah, that’s terrible,” he said, sucking my ear into his mouth.

“You’re gonna be so sorry when we get back here later.”

“You think? You think I’ll be sorry? Or will I just be moaning and begging and sweating under my beautiful, sexy man?”

My face was hot.

“You’re all flushed. God, I just—stop a second.”

I did because walking was hard with him so close to me.

Slowly, because there seemed to be a whole process to it, he unclasped his heavy, either platinum or silver, intricately carved link bracelet that he’d been wearing since I met him. His gorgeous Patek Philippe watch was on his left wrist, but on the right was the bracelet I’d admired mostly because it was on him.

“What’re you⁠—”

“Wait,” he ordered, and once the piece of jewelry was off, it almost fell to the floor, but he caught it and then he wrapped it around my right wrist.

“You want me to wear this?” I asked him, smiling as he went through the same steps to close the clasp.

“Yeah,” he husked, checking it when he was done, seeing that it moved freely but there was no way it was sliding over my wrist. “And that’s not coming off.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll never figure out that lock,” he assured me.

I would, though. I was good with puzzles, but that wasn’t the point. “Why would I want to take it off?” I asked instead of saying anything snarky.

“Just don’t fiddle with it.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Good. That’s good.”

I smiled at him. “What’s with you?”

He shook his head.

“Tell me.”

Pointing at the bracelet, he said, “That’s one of a kind. Made in Ankara just for me.”