Endless Obsession (43 page)

Tears gather in my eyes at his words. He speaks the truth. It will only get better with us.

His movements speed up. His jaw gets tight and the muscles in his arms strain as he starts powering into me. He angles his hips and hits a spot that has me seeing stars burst behind my closed lids. My mouth drops open on a silent cry and my body stiffens as pleasure like I’ve never felt before rushes out of me.

I open my eyes just as I hear Asher grunt, his neck straining and his face awash in intense pleasure. Sweat trickles down his cheek and falls on my breasts. His chest pumps up and down as he looks down at me. Something fierce passes over his face, right before he dips his head and lazily kisses me. Our tongues meet in the middle and languidly play with the other.

“I love you, Beautiful,” he says after pulling back.

He’s looking at me with such intensity that there’s no way I couldn’t believe him.

“I love you, too, Asher.”

The look that crosses his face is one I will forever remember. The pleasure from my words so powerful it takes all my breath away and almost leaves me gasping. That was the first time I’ve told him that and from the look in his eyes, I can tell he’s been waiting a long time to hear them. I vow to tell him every single day for the rest of our lives.

I slowly trace the lines of Asher’s tattoos on his chest as he idly plays with my hair. We’re snuggled up in bed in his apartment. He was surprised when I didn’t fight him on it when he brought the subject up again. We’ve been here two days and have done nothing except laze around in bed, getting to know each other’s bodies and minds. There is so much I’ve learned about Asher. He’s told me more about his hacking abilities. He assured me he doesn’t use his skills illegally anymore, “Except when I’m trying to garner information about beautiful brunettes,” he finished with a chuckle. I slapped his stomach and told him as long as I was the only brunette he was interested in getting information about.

I learned that he had a good childhood. His parents met in high school and have been together ever since. He has an older sister named Bea and a younger brother named Alexander. Bea is Kia, his niece’s mother. His brother has a daughter named Vanessa, or Nessa for short. Alexander’s wife died giving birth to Nessa and has so far shown no interest in meeting anyone else. The love that flows with his words proves he cares for both little girls deeply, especially Kia. The close bond he has with his sister passed down to her daughter. He’s very close with the rest of his family as well. You can tell by the way he talks about them. It was weird hearing him talk about his family. I already know some things from when he spoke of them when he was playing Sterling, but I think he wanted me to hear it again as Asher.

He made excellent grades in school, which earned him a full scholarship to Harvard. I was very impressed, but not surprised. I’ve always known Asher was extremely smart. After Harvard, he worked for his dad’s company for a couple years as the head of network security, before he branched out on his own. He admitted to using ill-gotten money to start his business, but hasn’t used it since. I believe him.

I cringed when he told me about his days in college. He was smart and didn’t have to study. Instead, when he wasn’t filtering money from high powered people, he and Eric were off partying and sleeping with any girl they deemed fit to fill their beds. He grabbed my hand when my nails started digging into the skin on his stomach. He brought it to his lips, kissed my palm, and murmured, “You are the only girl that has ever, and will ever matter. As soon as I saw you, they became non-existent.” I melted against him when he hovered over me and proved his words right.

My fingers move down to the puckered scar on his lower stomach. That’s one thing I haven’t asked him about. Truth be told, I’m scared to. Just the thought of possibly losing him terrifies me. Even though he told me he’s okay now, the chance that one day he might not be…

I clench my eyes shut. Opening them, I lean over and kiss his lean stomach, right over the scar. His stomach muscles tighten in response.

Laying back down on his chest, my fingers still running over his scar that could have taken him away from me forever, I ask softly, “Does it still pain you?”

He stays silent for a moment. He pulls my fingers away from their exploration and intertwines his hand with mine.

“No. The doctors were quite impressed I healed so quickly,” he chuckles. “What they don’t know is I was in a lot of pain when I came back to work. It had been weeks since I had seen you face to face. I had my videos,” I stiffen slightly, but he continues. “But they weren’t the same. I came back to work early because I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Something pierces my chest at the thought of him enduring more pain just so he could get back to me, and me being oblivious to it. I hate knowing he did that just because he couldn’t bear the thought of going another day without seeing me.

“When do you go back for tests?” I ask.

“A month,” he murmurs.

I twist and see him watching his thumb rubbing the back of my hand. I pull my hand from his and turn more to rest my hand over his heart with my chin on top.

“Can I go with you?”

He smiles. “I would love it if you went with me.”

I smile in return and lay my cheek down so my face is still turned toward him. His hand lands on my bare hip. We went back to sleeping naked when he brought me back to his place, much to both of our delight.

“My mom’s dinner is in a couple days. I’ll understand if you’re not up to going, but if you are, I’d really like you to.”

I think back to him telling me about the dinner when I thought he was Sterling. I was hesitant then, and still am now, but I’m ready. Things were so uncertain just a week ago. I didn’t know who he was, had no idea of what meeting his parents would entail, what it would mean for our relationship. But now it seems natural. Yes, our relationship is still new, more new to me than him, but I now know Asher is the man I’ll spend the rest of my life with, so it’s right that I meet his parents. I’m nervous, but looking forward to it at the same time. Asher talking about them, I know they are good people. I just hope they deem me worthy of him.

“I want to go,” I tell him and am graced with another brilliant smile. He’s been doing that a lot lately, and each time takes my breath away.

My eyes land on a tattoo that’s placed over his heart. It’s another piece of him I’ve been curious about. It’s a four leaf clover, but instead of all four leaves being green, two are a bright purple. There are two dates and initials. My guess, it’s a memorial to someone. The dates say the person was eight years old.

I trace my fingers along the lines of the clover and ask quietly, “Will you tell me about this?”

Although he knows which tattoo I’m talking about, he still looks down at it, acute sadness washing over his face.

“Her name was Cara,” he says softly, reverently. “She was eight when she died.”

I suck in a breath at the apparent pain I hear in his voice. This child meant a lot to him. My brows pull down into a frown. Could she be his… He would have been young when she was born… about eighteen?

“Was she…” the words try to stick in my throat, but I force them out, “your daughter?”

His eyes flicker to mine. “No. She was my sister. She was a late baby and an accident. But she was well loved. We all doted on her because she truly was the baby of the family. Even younger than my niece, who also happened to be her best friend.” A smile touches his lips. “Her favorite color was purple. She loved collecting four leaf clovers. She thought they would bring her good luck.” His smile drops and sadness replaces it. “In the end, they didn’t work. Nothing did.”

That explains the tattoo. Tears pool in my eyes. Hearing him talking about it and the ache in his voice sends shards of pain to my stomach.

I place my palm against his cheek. “What happened?”

His throat bobs. “She was born with kidney problems. They had her on dialysis as a toddler. Eventually, one of her kidneys gave out, no longer working. They removed it with the hope that the remaining one would function properly enough for her to live a decent life. She was fine for a while, but then right after she turned eight, she started having problems again, except worse than before. A transplant was needed. I was seventeen, but was very adamant I give her one of mine. She was my sister and it hurt to see her in such pain every day. My parents were torn, but gave in. They didn’t want their daughter to die, but they also knew the risk of me giving up one of my kidneys. Many people live with only one kidney and have full and long lives. I don’t regret for one second giving Cara my kidney. I would do it again in a heartbeat. But in the end, the kidney I gave Cara was a kidney that I would eventually need myself.”

Tears pour out of my eyes at the devastation of what he just said. It’s an impossible situation where no matter what happened, someone would be hurt. Imagining a teenage Asher watching his sister slowly die, then being brave enough to offer a piece of himself to save her is more than my heart can handle. The pain he and his family must have gone through.

“After several months, her body rejected my kidney. She went back on the waiting list for another, but she was declining fast. She needed the transplant. Just when we lost all hope, a kidney became available, but there were complications during surgery. Her heart was too weak and gave out. They worked on her for an hour, trying to get her heart pumping, but they weren’t able to.”

“Oh, Asher,” I say tearfully, getting to my knees. I grab his hand and bring it to my chest. “I’m so sorry.”

My visions blurs with my tears. His arms wrap around me, bringing me closer to him. A new sense of fear slithers in when I realize the seriousness of Asher’s illness. His sister died from the same illness. Her body couldn’t handle the new kidney. What if his body can’t either? And her heart gave out. His blood pressure became too high during dialysis. What happens if he needs another kidney and his heart gives out? Terror has my blood freezing, and I feel suddenly cold.

Asher feels me stiffen. He rolls us so I’m on my back with him lying on top of me.

“Hey,” he says, his hands on my face, forcing me to look at him, but I don’t
see
him. I only see a future that doesn’t have Asher in it and it terrifies me. This isn’t about me, it’s about the pain Asher is still obviously going through with losing his sister. I should be focusing on him and it’s selfish that I’m not, but I can’t stop the uncontrollable agony racking my body right now. I feel like I can’t breathe. I try to draw in breath, but none will come. Why can’t I breathe?

“Hey,” he says more forcefully. His grip on my cheeks tighten and he gives me a slight shake. “Look at me,” he demands, his tone bringing me back to reality. I blink and focus on him. His eyes are filled with concern as he gazes down at me.

“Asher,” I cry. “I can’t…” I stop, shaking my head, not able to form the words.

“You won’t have to. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is fierce as he looks down at me. “Cara’s health problems were different than mine. She was born with a defect. Mine developed over time. The doctors told me there’s no reason to believe I won’t live a normal and healthy life after the transplant. Every test I’ve had post-surgery have been great, better than even the doctors expected. I’m not ever leaving you.”

I sob and throw my arms around his neck and drag him down until his chest is against mine. I love this man more than life itself. I couldn’t take it if something happened to him.

“I’m sorry,” I say against his ear. “I’m so sorry about what happened to Cara. She shouldn’t have died.”

He pulls back and wipes away my tears.

“You’re right, she shouldn’t have, but she’s in a better place now, and I know she’s watching down on us all. I’m sure she has a huge collection of four leaf clovers just waiting to show everyone once we’re with her again.”

His beautiful words bring on more tears.

“I wish I could have met her.”

He dips down for a kiss. “I do too. You would have loved her. She was so sweet and funny. She wrapped anyone who met her around her finger.”

I smile at the love shining in his eyes. He rolls to his side and tucks me close, but I pull back from him and start to climb from the bed.

“Where you going?” he asks. I look back at him and laugh at the pout he’s wearing, glad the darkness in the room has lifted.

“Bathroom.” I giggle and get off the bed, wiggling my butt for show as I walk to the bathroom.

“Hurry back,” he growls, and it sends a tingle of awareness down my spine.

I hurry through my business, anxious to get back to him. The last couple days have been wonderful. My stomach rumbles as I wash my hands, reminding me we haven’t eaten dinner yet. I grab Asher’s shirt off the floor and slip it on. When I walk back into the bedroom, Asher’s still in the same position he was in when I left, except he’s holding his phone, looking at something with a frown. The look disappears when he looks at me as I pass by the bed, his eyes turning heated.

“I’m going to grab the fruit tray out of the fridge,” I say, blowing him a kiss. He lifts his chin, indicating he heard me. I feel him watching me as I leave the room.

I smile as I walk down the dark hallway. I was stunned when he first brought me here. His apartment is massive, bigger than my house. I was quite impressed with Asher’s style in furnishings as well. I expected his apartment to be plain, without feeling. It’s actually the opposite. It’s very homey. He said his mom decorated it, but I think he added a lot of his touch to it too. What surprised and pleased me the most is all the pictures he has of his family. They hang from walls and sit on shelves. He even has a few placed on his coffee table. Had I not already known he was big into family, that would have clued me in.

I pass by a chocolate brown sofa with black pillows, then the coffee table that has a picture of him and his brother and sister, and a desk that holds a lamp and a few magazines. The dining room has a table that seats eight people, big enough for his family when they come to visit. I flip on the overhead light in the modern kitchen and walk over to the big side-by-side fridge. I set the small tray of fruit down on the counter, grab two bottles of water and set them down beside it before closing the fridge. My stomach rumbles again, so I take the lid off the tray and pop a grape into my mouth.

I’m just about to grab the tray and water when I feel a presence behind me. With a smile on my face, I turn to greet the man I love. Before I get the chance, I’m knocked into the counter by a hard body and a hand slams over my mouth. My eyes go wide in fright, and I scramble to pull the hand away. Hot breath tickles my ear when he yanks my head back by applying pressure on my mouth. My head lands on his shoulder. His other arm wraps tight around my stomach, right below my breasts.