Part 13 (1/2)

”Um. . .okay.”

”Anything else?” he asked.

”Uh. . .will your mother be meeting your real guest?” she asked. ”Would I be making places for both of them?”

”No,” he said with annoyance. ”Mother is going to Paris.”

The women in this place have lost their minds. It'll be good to have a fresh feminine presence in this household.

Asher walked past her and finished going up the steps. ”Have a good evening, Grace.”

Eleven.

Cupid

Asher spent the rest of the evening reading his book.

12 Steps to Intimacy Eye to body is the first step to intimacy. This is when a man first gazes upon a woman and really notices her for the first time. . .

Asher paused from his book and considered that moment with Diana. The first time he spotted her, she'd walked into a dark kitchen, not knowing the horror that lay inside. Asher had gazed upon Diana when he was really himself-bow and arrow in hand and blood all around him. No other women had ever caught his eye in that way. Most of the time if a female was around right before or after he killed, he'd either let her go, if she wasn't guilty, or take her life with the male monster next to her.

He didn't have to do that with Diana. She'd stepped into the darkness, sensed the electricity of him across her skin and backed away.

Too bad she hadn't backed away from him farther enough, because he'd started the first step to intimacy with her, right in that moment.

He returned to his book.

. . .Eye-to-eye contact is the next step. This is now active interaction between two people. Then we have voice-to-voice, where both people feel each other out. . .

Asher laughed as he thought back to his first date with Diana. She'd done more than feel him out with her words, she'd tongue twisted him, made him thirsty to taste her. That dress had snared his attention, her mind had caught his heart. And even the darkest side of him was intrigued with her fascination with Cupid.

I can't believe she named me that.

He grinned and returned to the book, scanning the pages for the steps that dealt with physical intimacy.

When does the touching begin and how do I get us there, immediately?

Eye-to-eye. . .

Voice-to-voice. . .

Hand-to-hand. . .

Arm-to-shoulder. . .

Blowing out a long breath, Asher shut the book close and decided to make his own steps. With Diana inside of his mansion, there would be no way he could keep his hands to himself enough to slowly follow each step.

He wanted her now, could taste the sweetness of her flesh right on his tongue. He licked his lips at the thought.

I should go back over to her house and check on her.

His c.o.c.k grew in his pants. His body and mind both knew that sneaking back over to watch Diane in her bedroom had nothing to do with keeping her safe. The only danger in her life would be her husband's killer, Cupid.

And he was Cupid.

I think I'm starting to like that name.

Asher unb.u.t.toned his suit pants, stuffed his hand inside, and freed his c.o.c.k. In his mind, he pictured the view from her balcony last night.

She'd been naked when she went to bed. Drops of water glittered along that flesh. He'd dug his nails into his hands just to keep him on that balcony and not diving into her room.

Her body lay perfect. Tight, dark nipples rose up and down on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as she touched herself with such sensuality. She dripped with arousal and filled the whole room with that lush scent.

A hunger had rose in Asher.

His hands itched to dip his fingers between that wet flesh between her thighs. All that cream would cover those wicked digits. All of her. And he'd lick and lick it all the way, right before diving between those legs, lapping at her c.l.i.t, and feasting on every inch of that warm p.u.s.s.y before his eyes.

That night, in the shadows of her balcony, he wanted to do more than f.u.c.k Diana.

He wanted to make her his-legs spread open, her screaming out Cupid, and him moving inside of her with enough energy to satisfy both of their hungers.

”I don't know what my plans are for you.” He slipped his hands along his c.o.c.k, stopped at the tip, and squeezed the throbbing point as he thought more of Diana touching herself. ”I just know that no one touches you, until I'm done.”

And there he sat in his bedroom.

Light bathed his half-naked body as he stroked himself and whispered Diana's name over and over. By then he'd gotten the tiny bottle of rose-scented lotion in his night stand and lathered his length with the perfumed cream. Sweat beaded along his forehead. He ripped his s.h.i.+rt apart to get more movement and be relaxed. His pants now hung at his ankles.

”Oh, Diana.” His thighs flexed as he pounded his c.o.c.k into his closed fists.

In his mind, she bounced on top of his c.o.c.k as he lay on the beach. An ocean breeze whipped through her long, black hair. Those supple b.r.e.a.s.t.s bobbed as he thrust back into her. All around them the night air smelled of salted sea and s.e.x.

”Oh, Cupid,” she groaned.

And he didn't mind that she didn't moan Asher because, in the end, who was Asher?

Haven't I been a sort of f.u.c.ked-up Cupid all along?

He stroked himself some more, groaning so loud he was sure some of the staff had heard him. He pounded into his hand, probably abused a finger or two, but he didn't care.