The Man I Once Knew

Asher hovered over me. A bulge tented his pants. He brought his fingers, coated in my juices to his mouth and licked them clean with a wicked smile. My core clenched, wanting more, completely mesmerized by the sensations slowly dimming in my body.

My hand moved toward the waistband of his pants, desire clouding my judgment, but he caught my hand gently and shook his head.

“No,” he said, firm but soft.

I opened my mouth to argue, but he repeated it, a little gentler this time. “No.”

Then he stood, reached for my hand, and pulled me to my feet. Without a word, he helped me fix my clothes, adjusted my dress, smoothed my hair, and brushed the sand out with such tenderness, that I didn’t know what to do with it. He was sweet. Warm. Gentle. It felt like he actually cared.

And maybe he did.

Still, I glanced down at the very obvious hard bulge he was trying to ignore.

“That looks painful,” I said, nodding toward the tight fabric at the front of his pants.

“It’s fine,” he said quickly.

But I