Chapter 11

Dylan’s number dialed, I pressed the phone to my ear. Nervous, I wrapped my free arm around my waist.

Asher hovered nearby, close but not touching. At this distance, he would likely be able to hear everything said on both sides.

Good. Then he would know I wasn’t lying.

It took several rings for Dylan to answer. When he finally did, he sounded pleasant, but not quite his usual fully-chipper self.

“It’s great to hear from you,” he said. “How is school going?”

“Um, okay. How are you?”

“I’m great. Well, sort of. It’s nice to hear your voice.”

I swallowed, hoping he would still think so in the next five minutes. “Dylan, I really need to talk to you about something.”

“Oh. Hold on a second.” Dylan covered the receiver. I heard mumbled noises but couldn’t make out what they were. “Sorry. Things are kind of hectic right now. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, but…”

“I’m sorry, Cynthia. I can’t really talk right now. If you’re okay, we’ll talk later, alright?”

“Dylan,” I tried, but jumped when a growl sounded from the phone. A smacking noise followed. Then a thump, as the phone hit something solid.

“That was uncalled for,” came Dylan’s muffled voice. Then, louder, “Get back here!”

“Dylan?” I asked, but he didn’t respond anymore, like he couldn’t hear me.

Asher plucked the phone from my hand and held it to his own ear. There was some more shouting and – was that a roar?

Lowering the phone, Asher glared at it like it personally affronted him. Then he clicked to end the call.

“I don’t understand,” I said. Fear prickled up my spine. “Is he okay?”

“It sounds like he’s in the middle of a war simulation.”

At my incredulous look, Asher added, “Part of the Silvermoon Academy curriculum is a realistic wartime simulation that could last for months.”

He frowned at the phone. “We shouldn’t distract him.”

“And you are sure he’s safe?” I asked, worrying. “It sounded dangerous.”

“He needs to keep his head on straight, that’s all.” Asher shoved my phone back at me.

If Asher said Dylan would be okay, I believed him. The relief doubled when I realized I would get to keep my secret a little while longer.

I had been ready to tell Dylan about my pregnancy, and I still would. But knowing I wouldn’t have to for a few months yet, eased some of the pressure in my chest.

I would admit none of this to Asher.

Asher slow-blinked at me like he was bored. Then, without warning, he yanked his tank-top over his head and tossed it carelessly onto the floor.

“W-What are you doing?” My face burned hot. I covered it with my hands.

He walked toward his desk where a shiny black suit hung on the back of his chair.

I peeked at him between my fingers, at the shift of his shoulder blades and the long line of his spine.

My lust returned in overdrive, even worse than before.

So much smooth, pale skin suddenly on display. Every inch of it could have been chiseled from marble.

Even the curve of his backside was perfect. If he was on top of me, I could dig my nails into his skin and –

Half-turning toward me, Asher tugged his pants lower, revealing the jut of his hipbone.

My world whited out for a moment.

I squeezed shut my eyes. Then I covered them with both hands to be safe.

He was going to give me a heart attack.

“I have a business presentation today,” he said, voice deeper than usual. Or was that my imagination? “If I don’t get ready now, I’ll be late.”

“Y-You could have warned me,” I stammered.

He hummed.

When I chanced another glance, his pants were on, as was a crisp white shirt. With deft fingers, he fastened each button. Next, he slipped a deep blue tie around his neck and began to knot it.

His long fingers slid along the fabric, twisting and tucking with expert precision. Every movement was made with purpose. Nothing wasted.

I watched, mesmerized. Did he move his hands like that when he made love? A thought struck me like lightning, of his long, deft fingers sliding into my panties.

I slammed my thighs together, and choked back a whimper.

He glanced at me with hooded eyes, peering at me through his long, dark lashes.

I hoped he couldn’t smell me like I’d smelled him.

Because there was no denying. I wanted him.

Blushing hotly, I crossed my arms over my chest. I pressed against my aching nipples, seeking a hint of relief while also hoping to hide from him the way they’d hardened.

He glanced down once, only for an instant. Then he looked away and reached for his suit jacket.

“Y-you should have asked me before you starting undressing,” I said, voice breathier than I wanted it to be.

“I didn’t realize I needed your permission to change in my own room.”

“You do when I’m in here with you!”

His eyes pierced through me again. A storm raged there within their depths, even though the rest of his face appeared impassive.

“Are you still angry I saw your bare breasts through your wet shirt?”

I gasped. “You said you forgot about that!”

He ignore me. “Shouldn’t you consider us even now?”

“This is hardly the same!”

Ignoring me, he slid on his suit jacket, completing his look. He was so handsome in that expensive-looking suit, I nearly started drooling.

I felt exposed, vulnerable. My desire for him was so easily on display, while he gave nothing away.

I wanted him to back me against his desk, push my legs apart, and slot himself between them. If he lowered those slacks just enough, he could take me while wearing that suit.

If I reached for him then, would he hold me down? Clasping my wrists in one strong palm, he would demand, “Keep your hands to yourself.” He wouldn’t want to wrinkle his suit.

Wait. I blinked several times in quick succession.

Why was I fantasizing about this?

I pushed away the thoughts, but they kept returning to me.

I wanted him to touch me.

I was hopeless.

This wasn’t just hormones. I was actually, honest-to-goodness attracted to Asher.

Was I in love with him? No. No, that couldn’t be, but…

The thought shocked me so much the fantasy, blessedly, slipped away from my mind.

Asher checked his watch. “I don’t have time for this.” His voice was even rougher than before, practically growling. He stepped around me, toward the door. “I refuse to be late.”

I could only watch him, somewhat dazed.

“Come on,” he said, when I hesitated to follow him. “We can talk on the way. You can explain to me exactly why I should let you stay at the Academy.”

Even rough, his condescending tone shot anger through me, finally dousing the flames of my lust.

Privileged, arrogant, overbearing bastard.

Let you stay at the Academy. Like everything was up to him and only him!

Yet still, despite myself, I wanted to convince him, and I wanted to do it without revealing the existence of my wolf.

I didn’t think Asher would use the knowledge against me. After all, he’d proven more than once that he wanted to protect me, even if it was only for Dylan’s sake.

But I needed to keep a card up my sleeve, just in case things took a turn for the worse.

I trusted Asher with my person, I knew he wouldn’t physically hurt me. Yet his constant domineering and condescending attitude made me unwilling to give him any more pieces of myself than absolutely necessary.

Which was also why I needed to keep my lust in check.

Asher glanced back at me from the doorway. “Follow me or don’t. I don’t care.”

He turned and walked away, his stride swift with his long legs.

Infuriating man!

I grumbled, but hurried forward.

What could I do but chase after him?

“Hey, wait for me! Asher!”