Page 188 of Law Maker
My father’s mouth twisted. “Happiness? This isn’t happiness. This is you throwing away the life I built for you. Everything I gave you—your education, your future—and you torch it for him? For a boy who’s already peaked?”
Asher’s voice dropped low, lethal. “Careful.”
But my father wasn’t finished. “You’re nothing but arm candy for a washed-up racer. And when the world moves on from him, you’ll come crawling back to me, begging for help.”
Before I could answer, Asher cut in, his voice like steel. “She won’t crawl to anyone. She stands on her own. With me, she’ll fly.”
The words seemed to hang in the air. A few heads turned, drawn by the tension even if they couldn’t hear every word. Curious whispers drifted from nearby tables—the kind of murmurs my father hated most.
His jaw clenched so hard the muscles jumped. Sharon’s mouth opened like she had more venom to spill, but I squeezed Asher’s hand and smiled coldly at my father.
“Don’t worry. If the people in this room respect you, they’ll get over the fact your adult daughter is with your wife’s adult son. We’ll be around—if you need us.”
I tugged Asher’s hand and led him toward the exit, ignoring the rage burning my father’s face and Sharon’s snapping mouth, leaving them behind with their forced smiles and bottled fury while the cracks showed through.
Asher quickened his strides.
“Ash.” I giggled, barely able to keep up in three-inch heels. Once we slipped out of the hall, he scanned the corridor, then ducked into a narrow hallway.
He strode past three identical wooden doors before stopping at the fourth. He opened it and ushered me inside.
A meeting room. Oval table. Black chairs. Music and laughter echoed faintly through the closed door.
Asher pressed me against it, his forearms braced on either side of me, caging me in. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His warmth, his scent—none of it helped my self-control. I wanted to fist his hair, drag his mouth to mine.
“Tell you what?” I whispered.
“That you were at the hospital. And Ale kept quiet too.”
I cupped his jaw. “I asked him to.”
He pressed his forehead to mine. “Why?”
“Because I didn’t want you to feel indebted. To stay out of pity. I wanted you to chase your dream and—”
His mouth crashed into mine, hot and wet. I clutched his shoulders to steady myself, knees wobbling as his tongue traced my lips and I opened for him, letting him kiss me deep.
“I would’ve stayed,” he rasped against my mouth, breath rough. “Out of love. Leaving you was the hardest, most painful thing I’ve ever done. If I’d seen you, I would’ve cracked. But never out of fucking pity. It was never one-sided. I’ve always wanted you. Always loved you, even when I fought it.”
My fingertips slid down the back of his neck. “I know, Ash.”
“I’ll repeat it as many times as it takes.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, feather-light. “Or better yet, I’ll show you.”
His hand slipped through the slit of my dress. When he cupped my inner thigh, I gasped, heat flooding me. He chuckled against my neck, then bit softly. “Will you let me fuck you here? You against the door?”
His finger traced my satin-covered slit, slow, unhurried, as if no one might walk in.
“Yes,” I breathed, ignoring the frantic pulse between my legs.
He tugged my panties down, pocketed them with a wicked grin. “For my collection.”
“I knew they didn’t just vanish. What would you even do with them, peque?”
He kissed below my ear. “Not wear them, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I’ll use them—these and the others—as leverage when I want you to stay the night. You’d want them back, right? And I love you without any. Like now.”
Leverage? I was ready to tell him he was ridiculous, but then his thumb pressed against my swollen clit, and all I managed was a whimper.
