Page 9 of Dirty Deadly & Mine
When his eyes make their way back up, lingering on the swell of my breasts for a moment too long, I have the urge to push my chest out further.
What the hell?
Shit. Did my nipples just go hard?
“You’ve done enough for me, Lily.” My name rolls off his tongue so sensually with his thick British accent that I need to mentally remind myself that this is Asher Scott, and not a man for me to ogle.
Although he sure does look fine. He has a lot more tattoos than the last time I saw him shirtless. And the way one disappears under the band of his sweatpants is nothing but teasing.
His voice is so manly now, with a deep husk. I noticed it when I went to visit him in prison. He’s always been a quiet kid, not saying much, so to have full conversations with him during my visits was an eye opener, showing me how much he’s matured over the years.
When I glance up at his face, my eyes find his lips, framed by a dusting of facial hair, and I have the urge to reach out and touch them to see if they’re soft.
Jesus Christ.
I clearly need to get laid so I stop ogling my sons’ best friend.
Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I remember we were having a conversation.
What were we talking about again?
Oh yeah. I’d said I wished I could do more, and he said I’d done enough for him… and then he said my name… Lily. Not Ms Bennett.
Lily.
“Nonsense,” I say quickly, needing to get this conversation back on track. “You’re like a son to me, Asher. I’d do anything to help you.”
I don’t miss the way he flinches at my words, right before his face hardens.
The action takes me aback, worried I’ve said something wrong, but then he steps closer to me. Too close.
I crane my neck back a little to keep my eyes on his, and he studies me for a moment before speaking.
“I’d rathernothave you look at me as ason, Lily.” His voice is a low, deep rasp, and my brows shoot up even as my tummy flips.
A nervous laugh bubbles out of me, and one of his dark brows hitches.
“You find me funny?”
“Uh…” I take a step back, needing to put space between us.
This poor kid doesn’t realise the effect he’s having on me. I can barely understand it myself, but he needs to get away from me before I do something stupid. Jesus, he’s seventeen years younger than me, for fuck’s sake.
“No. Not at all.” I shake my head, trying to remain composed. “Please forgive me. I don’t seem to be myself tonight.”
Spinning on my heel, I move quickly back to the island bench, and as soon as I turn my back to him, my cheeks flare in embarrassment.
What the hell is going on with me?
“Is everything alright?” he asks as I grip the counter and take in a deep, steadying breath.
I don’t get a chance to answer him before I see his shadow come to stand beside me from the corner of my eye.
“Yes,” I rush out, turning a fake smile his way, and instantly regret it.
My God, Asher Scott really has grown into a man.
A verytemptingman.
