The Vixen and the Vet (13 page)

“
You
make it easy for me,” he said. “And your family’s terrific.”

“Scarlet was a little quiet. And Trent …” Her tone was apologetic, but she shrugged. “He’s not all bad.”

“I’m sure,” said Asher, feeling tight-lipped and annoyed. Trent Hamilton was exactly the sort of narrow-minded, townie asshole that Asher preferred to avoid.

“Really. He loves Scarlet to pieces.”

“Seems like it.”

“Mama loved having you.”

He released her hand and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close and loving it when she put her head on his shoulder.

“We’re halfway done with the interview,” he said. “Have you written any of it yet?”

“Some.”

“Going to let me read it?”

“Not yet,” she answered quickly.

He squeezed her shoulder. He could respect that—he wouldn’t want someone reading his work before it was finished either. They rocked in silence for a few minutes. Lawn sprinklers made for a soothing symphony as children rode their bikes by Savannah’s house and the odd car made its way carefully down the quiet tree-lined street. It had been such a long time since Asher spent an afternoon among other people. It felt familiar and new. Comforting and frightening.

“Where are we going with this, Savannah?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice soft and unsure against his neck. After a long pause, she looked up at him. “Do you?”

He shook his head sadly, unable to hold her pretty eyes. “No.”

That wasn’t entirely true, though. He had a good idea where he
wanted
it to go. He didn’t want her to leave Danvers. He didn’t want her to leave him behind. The thought of going back to life without her was so painful, it was almost unthinkable. He held her closer.

“Maybe we should slow down a little?” she asked.
“Until we figure it out?”

He winced. That was definitely not the answer he was hoping for. Disappointment invaded as he nodded politely, kissing her on the forehead before releasing her and standing up. “See you tomorrow?”

“Of course,” she said, surprised by his abrupt good-bye, looking at him with troubled eyes as he stepped off the porch and headed to his car.

The first time you’re naked together and you don’t feel a shred of insecurity

Savannah spent Monday and Wednesday afternoons interviewing Asher, but after her “take it slower” bomb on Sunday afternoon, something had changed between them. Asher was holding back, and their meetings were confined to the wingbacks in his office once again. And frankly? She hated it.
Stepping back from a situation always seemed like a sensible thing to do if you were uncertain of things. But, their chemistry was so palpable, and her memories of his hand on her body so real, taking things slower was killing her. Possibly as much as it was killing him, though he was going out of his way to respect her wishes.

He didn’t put his arm around her or hold her hand as they sat behind her parents
, sister and Trent in the backyard, watching
Shag
on Thursday night. So when he leaned over to nuzzle her ear as two of the main characters started kissing on-screen, her breath hitched in surprise and relief and pleasure.

“Come home with me after,” he said softly.

“I leave for Myrtle Beach tomorrow,” she whispered back, trying not to whimper from the feeling of his lips on her ear. The heat of his breath made her heart race and her skin tingle.

“Come over anyway. I’ll drive you home whenever you want.”

She took a deep, ragged breath. She wanted him. So much. So much more than she’d ever wanted anyone—the eager boys in high school, the erudite boys in college, the sophisticated men in New York. None of them tugged at her heart as Asher did. None of them made her feel as much as he did. And no, maybe she couldn’t have him forever, but whatever happened after the article was published, slow be damned. She wanted this time with him now.

“Okay.”

He exhaled beside her, reaching for her hand. She laced her fingers through his and let him settle their hands on his thigh. It was hot and hard, and yearning pooled in Savannah’s belly, making it impossible to concentrate on the movie. All she wanted was to hop into his gorgeous car, drive to his house and let him pull her up the stairs to his bedroom.

She shifted slightly toward him in the two-seater Adirondack chair so that her mouth was just a little bit closer to his ear.

“Asher.”

“Savannah.”

He stared at the screen now, but his chest moved more deliberately than it had a few minutes before, and his jaw was rigid. His hand held hers with more definite pressure, and she leaned into him, her breath brushing his ear.

“For the record, I’ve decided … that I
hate
… taking things slow.”

“That makes two of us,” he said in a gravelly voice.

She bit his earlobe gently. “I might stay all night.”

He flinched and wet his lips, refusing to look at her, but she felt movement in his pants near her hand and tried not to grin. His mind was just as dirty as hers.

“Fine with me.”

“But sex is still off the table
for now,” she said, as her tongue darted out to lick the sensitive skin where his cheek and ear met.

He groaned softly. “That’s a shame.”

“Don’t get greedy,” she said, teasing.

She’d given this some thought. The problem with having sex with Asher now was that they’d left the airspace for casual sex several days ago and too many feelings were flying between them at this point, intense feelings that hadn’t been articulated yet, that could hurt if there were misunderstandings between them. Did they like each other? Yes. Did they have heat? Lord, yes. But the rest was still up for grabs. She wasn’t his girlfriend, and they didn’t have a commitment in place. Sex at this point could break her heart. And since Savannah’s feelings were still raw over Patrick’s deception and betrayal, she couldn’t risk her heart again so soon. And certainly not with Asher, who meant more and more to her with every passing day. She wasn’t sure she could recover from Asher hurting her, and that scared her most of all.

“Is anything else off the table?” he asked, his nostrils flaring as he stayed focused on the screen.

Savannah leaned forward until her lips grazed his ear again. “No.”

His breath hitched, and he squeezed her hand, turning to her slowly. “We need to go. Now.”

His voice, low and demanding, made the muscles deep inside her body clench and release in anticipation. She bit her bottom lip. “Shouldn’t we watch the rest—”

“No.”

Even in the dim light afforded by the movie, she could see the fierce desire in his eyes, the longing that probably mirrored her own. They hadn’t made out since their picnic on Saturday, and they were about to be separated for three days. She could see it: he was as desperate to be alone with her as she was to be alone with him.

Making the decision for them, he stood, pulling her up with him. They bee lined past Scarlet and Trent, who’d been snuggling on a bench in front of them, and stopped right behind Judy’s chair.

“Mama,” whispered Savannah, placing her hands on her mother’s shoulder and whispering into her ear. “Asher’s got a headache. We’re going to go.”

Judy pulled her eyes away from the screen, looking around at Asher in dismay. “Oh, Asher. I’m so sorry, honey. Come back again real soon?”

“Yes, ma’am, and thanks for having me.”

“I’ll be home later, Mama,” said Savannah smoothly. “Don’t wait up.”

Before her mother could say another word, Savannah was pulled away, her heart racing as Asher put his car into drive and headed home.

***

They drove in silence, the tension palpable and hot between them as he shifted the car from third to fourth, from fourth to fifth, racing up the dark, narrow roads toward home. Those dreadful words “slow down” had tortured Asher since Sunday afternoon, and with three long days apart on the horizon, he couldn’t pass up the chance to have her to himself. He hated the fact that she was headed to Myrtle Beach with a bunch of good-looking men, so the least he could do was ensure that there wasn’t any room for anyone else in her head but him.

He finally pulled into his driveway, and when he cut the engine, the silence was overwhelming. He cleared his throat, resisting the temptation to touch her right away.

“I’m glad you came home with me.”

She took a deep breath and stared up at the house. “I hate it that I won’t see you again until Monday.”

He reached for her face, palming her cheek, and turned her to face him. “Me too.”

He leaned forward and took her top lip between his, letting his fingers thread through her hair as she moaned softly, leaning toward him. She reached up to cradle his face with her hands, and he deepened the kiss, tasting her mouth and smiling because it tasted like popcorn and butter and he never knew the movies could taste so perfect.

“Even though I saw you, I missed you,” he murmured, tracing her jaw with little kisses.

“Me too,” she sighed, leaning her head back to give his lips and tongue better access to her throat. “It was hell coming here on Monday and Wednesday and wishing you were kissing me like this. I could barely concentrate on the interview. I just kept wishing you’d grab me and kiss me and tell me ‘To hell with taking things slow, Savannah.’ It’s terrible to feel this much this fast.” She breathed heavily against his neck as his hand glided over her breasts and slipped into the front of her black T-shirt. The skin of her tummy was so warm and soft, he flattened his hand, savoring her heat before sliding his hand up to her breasts. He molded the soft flesh under his hand as she gasped into his mouth, stealing his breath.

“Savannah,” he groaned, and her teeth bit his upper lip gently as her nipple beaded like a marble under the lace of her bra. “You make me so goddamned hot.”

“Upstairs,” she murmured. “Your bed. Now.”

He pulled back from her
, panting, reaching over to open his door without taking his eyes off her, then walked around the car to open hers. When she stepped out of the car, he pulled her against his chest without a word because he couldn’t help himself and kissed her slowly and deeply in the moonlight. He’d never known want like this, and he searched his brain to see if it consumed him so deeply just because he’d gone without it for so long. His answer came quickly. It felt wonderful to hold a beautiful girl in his arms, yes, but these feeling weren’t about just any girl.

They were about Savannah.

Savannah, who’d walked up to his door with brownies when the rest of the town stayed away. Savannah, who’d offered him her left hand in greeting the moment he met her. Savannah, who smelled like lemons and loved books and had come home to hide. Savannah, who was like flint to his steel, hot and sharp and full of fire. And Savannah, warm and pliant in his arms, letting him kiss her, somehow, miraculously, wanting him just as much as he wanted her.

By the time he drew back from her, he was so hard and so ready to bury himself inside her, it was almost painful. Why had she taken sex off the table? It bothered him, not because every male instinct in his body was driving him to mate with her, but because he wondered at the reason. Did she not
want
to?

He took a deep breath, pulling away to look up at the full moon before returning his gaze to her lovely, upturned face. He lifted his hand to cup her jaw.

“You’re beautiful all the time. But you’re an angel in the moonlight.”

He winced at his sappy delivery, but his feelings were scary-stupid, quickly changing from admiration and infatuation to love. He could feel it happening. He was driven by them to say ridiculous things.

“I’m no angel,” she said softly.

“You are,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips, surrendering to cheesy. He was falling in love with her. Cheesy was inevitable.

Savannah tugged him toward the front door, and he followed her inside, pushing the door shut behind them with his foot and letting her pull him up the stairs. It was incredibly sexy—incredibly hot—that she knew where she was going in the near darkness of his house, heading effortlessly to his bedroom. She pushed the door open, and he followed.

***

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, as much from the exertion of racing up the grand staircase and down the gallery to his room as from the force of her feelings and the desperate need to feel him, to taste him, to explore him, to have his hand and lips and tongue on her body. She leaned back against the bedroom door behind her, arching her back as she held his ravenous eyes.

He took a step toward her and put his hand on the door beside her head. He leaned in close, his forehead grazing hers softly, his breath coming in short pants, teasing her lips. The inside of his legs brushed the outside of hers as her short, quick breaths made her breasts ri
se and fall, her nipples skimming his chest over and over as she inhaled. The friction made them almost unbearably hard, and desperate for his hand or lips to soothe them. His eyes stared deeply into hers in the dim light of his bedroom. The moonlight cast shadows over his face, making it seem, for the moment, uninjured.

“Asher,” she sighed, looking up at him with wonder as her fingers traced the lines of his face. “You’re beautiful in the moonlight too.”

His eyes flashed with heat, and his mouth descended on hers. His arm hooked around her waist, backing up until his legs hit the bed behind him and he fell backward, dragging her down with him, cushioning her fall with his body. He flipped her over without leaving her lips, keeping his body flush against hers as he plundered her mouth, his hand slipping under her shirt to grasp her breast.

She moaned, arching up against him, and he pushed the bra up and over her aching flesh, then dropped his mouth to her nipple, sucking it fiercely into a sharp point and making her insides slippery with arousal and need. She wove her fingers through his mane of hair, frustrated then relieved as the warmth of his mouth moved from one breast to the other. His thumb and forefinger pinched the slippery wetness of one as he loved the other, flicking his tongue over it, then licking in slow circles until she thought she’d lose her mind.

Her hips moved rhythmically beneath him, pushing up into the hardness of his erection as he sucked her with more force, his hand sliding down to her stomach to slip under the elastic of her panties. She gasped with surprise as he slipped two fingers into her, then closed her eyes and whimpered in pleasure, clenching her muscles around the welcome intrusion.

“God, Savannah, you’re so wet. So tight.”

His words turned her on even more, and she bit down on her bottom lip as his lips trailed down her body, kissing her torso and tummy lightly, licking a ring around her belly button. She ran her hands over her aroused breasts, teasing the damp nipples with her fingers before skimming to the skin of her waist. She wanted him to have total access to her. She arched up and pushed her shorts and panties down, wiggling a little so they fell past her knees. Asher withdrew his fingers, dragging her shorts and panties down over her heels, before yanking her to the edge of the bed and kneeling on the floor before her. He took her left leg and kissed a trail from her ankle to her knee, then threw the leg over his shoulder and did the same with her right.

Oh, my God,
she thought.
He’s going to …