Page 61 of Stone Temptation
How the hell did that crystal bracelet survive his transformation?
“What is that?” I asked, nodding at the string of crystals.
“Rose quartz. For balancing my emotions, bringing calm. Like it?”
“You’re into crystal healing?”
“I am.” He stripped down to his underwear, showing off the sculpted perfection of his super buff body.
My greedy eyes couldn’t help but feast upon such a fine specimen of man candy and snared on his tight, revealing boxer shorts.
My God. That was some bulge, one substantial backside. His abs were beyond six packs or any pack. A whole new genre of washboard. And that chest of his was so tight I could bounce pennies off it.
“A balanced spiritual life is important to me,” he said, watching me watch.
I averted my eyes, too much activity stirring inside my trousers. “I… I respect that.”
“Not your cup of tea?”
“No.”
“Speaking of which, I’ll put the kettle on. Have a seat.” He gestured to a big comfy blue chair.
“This is nice,” I said.
“My meditation chair.”
“Oh. I’m not, erm, tainting it am I?”
“Nope. One sec.” He fetched some clothes from a white wardrobe next to the balcony windows.
“Here.” He tossed me a jumper. “It’ll swamp you but keep those nips warm.” He winced. “Sorry, dude.”
I laughed. “Thanks.”
It swamped me, the sleeves past my hands. Didn’t matter. It removed the vulnerability of my chest being exposed, which was a win in my book.
He found me a packet of baby wipes. “For the eyeliner.”
“Ugh. Am I that messy?”
He gave me a compact mirror. “Not to me.”
I blushed.
“Be right back.” Asher exited through a frosted glass door to the bathroom.
I scanned the room, fairy lights like streamers across the ceilings, twinkling around his headboard. A bedside table sat on the right side of his bed, an old-fashioned radio resting on it. A second door with a blue beaded curtain partitioned off a kitchen area, a statue of four figures melded together in dramatic poses on the floor next to the doorway.
The stone gods.
On the wall beside the frosted door was a bookshelf, next to that a table of crystals and burning lavender candles.
What an unexpected haven.
I got a look at myself in the mirror. I was in a tired, awful state with eyeliner smeared down my cheeks. Groaning, I wiped my face clean.
Asher returned from the bathroom in a sleeveless, red leather top and trousers, a thick golden-brown belt around his waist. I noticed a circular tattoo on his left bicep, which resembled a maze.