Page 91 of Asher

I found a book at a bookstore yesterday.

I was one of those home remedy books.

And I had found something out.

And I had just relayed this to Asher.

He shook his head, “You mean to tell me that someone recommended ketchup as a medicine?”

I giggled, then nodded, “Yeah, apparently, in the 1830’s a doctor sold tomato pills to treat things like jaundice and diarrhea.”

Asher got green again, then shook his head, “I would’ve suffered with it.”

I was still laughing when a thought suddenly occurred to me.

And I grinned.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

After our first time, I was a little embarrassed to see the spots of blood on his sheets, but he just laughed and smiled.

I took my first shower with someone else, and I adored it even more than it was Asher.

And he was right, the dang man.

I hadn’t been back to my apartment except to grab clothes.

Every night, I ended my day in his bed.

He’s been so gentle with me every time we make love. But while I adore it, I could tell that he was holding back.

And that crap stopped here and now.

Maybe I was biting off more than I could chew, but I knew that Asher wouldn’t ever hurt me.

That was why, in the middle of the party, I ran up to our room and pulled a pair of barely their black denim ripped shorts up my legs.

Stepped to the mirror and did a bend and snap test.

Perfect.

I couldn’t wait.

And I knew that I wouldn’t have to wait long.

Asher

My woman disappeared.

Where the fuck did she go?

My eyes scanned the clubhouse, looking for that head of hair I loved waking up to having tossed all around me.

The euphoric feel of it as it moved across my chest.

But that feeling of euphoria dissipated when I saw her coming down the stairs and took in what she had put on.

I stormed over to her and growled, “No. I don’t fucking think so. Change out of those fucking shorts.”