Chapter 92

Asher

As Cynthia ran from my room, I tried to chase her, but my mostly-hard condition made me unable to do more than lurch toward the door. By the time I reached the hallway, she was gone.

Holy hell.

Holy shit.

What. Just. Happened.

I hadn’t meant to pull her into my lap like that. My intention, at the start, was to have her sit on my thigh by the knee, and get comfortable leaning into me.

But when she came to stand between my thighs… When she looked at me like she wanted to unwrap me, a gift just for her.

I ran a hand down my face.

I had pushed her too fast. God, she probably hated me.

It was just… when I had her hands on me, I could barely control myself. She was so fucking hot. And she wanted me.

When she guided me to her breast, with her nipple so hard I could feel it through her clothes, it took everything in me not to rip her shirt clean off of her and ravage her the way we’d both wanted in the moment.

I needed to remember to go slowly.

No, I needed to remember not to touch her at all.

I had to apologize, but I was in no state for it now. Before I did anything else, I had to get myself under control.

Door closed, I hobbled back to my bed. I’d just had her here, in my lap, grinding against my dick through our clothes.

I wouldn’t need much imagination today.

All I needed was to shove my hand down my pants, give myself a few desperate strokes, and remember the way she’d cried my name.

A-Asher!

If she was so responsive from just this, grinding and petting through our clothes, I could only dream of how thoroughly debauched she would become without that barrier. I wanted her writhing, screaming my name, as she clawed claiming marks down my back and I drove inside of her.

“Cyn…” I breathed, nearing my own release. “Fuck, Cyn.”

Her tight little body trembling from pleasure.

Her mouth falling slack.

Her legs, clamping around my waist.

With thoughts of her release, I found my own, and made an absolute mess of my shirt and pants.

Panting, I fell back onto my bed, savoring the tiny tremors of pleasure rumbling their way through me.

I wished she had stayed. I wanted to hold her.

Instead, I’d scared her off.

The thought chased away my post-orgasmic glow far too soon, leaving me empty inside.

I threw my arm over my face, hiding my eyes in the notch of my elbow.

To hell with making our relationship convincing, I obviously couldn’t be trusted to touch her at all. She was all of my desires, physical and otherwise, wrapped into one beautiful package, but she was firmly off limits.

If Dylan knew what I’d already done, he’d never forgive me.

… At least Cynthia might.

I forced myself up and hopped into the shower. Then I changed into clean clothes.

By the time I reached my phone, I found a slew of text messages, all from Cynthia, many repeating the same thing.

I’m sorry! We were just practicing and I ruined it!

Please don’t shut me out.

Please don’t think of me like Joseph does.

Like Joseph does…? Oh. She meant, like a whore.

Suddenly, I gripped the phone so tightly, I cracked the screen.

She wasn’t angry at me, she was embarrassed by her body’s natural reaction to that kind of stimulus. Ordinarily I might have found this situation cute, and likely would again, later, but at this moment, with her daring to connect me to Joseph, I had to set her straight.

So I replied, I would NEVER think that. You were fine.

Satisfied, I closed the message. It buzzed again a minute later with a new text.

Cynthia, again.

… Only fine?

This time, a burst of sharp laughter escaped me. I laughed so rarely, that I placed my hand to my chest, startled that I had made such a sound.

Cynthia had brought it out in me.

And yeah, she was cute.

I thought of teasing her, but the poor girl was clearly worrying herself to pieces.

So instead, smiling to myself, I texted, Better than fine.

I’d likely think of her in this moment for long into my future, every time I needed release. It didn’t matter how many times I’d had sex before, clothed or unclothed.

Cynthia was the only one who could help me reach my climax now.

My glow must have held until hockey practice. One of my teammates clapped me on the shoulder and said, “It’s nice to see you happy.”

I shoved him off. “Get out of here.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “All the guys are talking about it. It’s like you’re a new person. In a good way.”

I skated away from him so he wouldn’t see my embarrassment or the underlying thrum of satisfaction.

“Cynthia is good for us,” my wolf whispered in my mind. “She is perfect.”

“She isn’t ours,” I reminded him, slicing down my own happiness.

The words always cooled me.

She wasn’t mine, but I wanted her to be.

Shit.

Practice continued on without issue. Afterwards, I walked toward Cynthia’s dorm, eager to see her again and remove any lingering awkwardness between us.

I stopped when I saw a familiar asshole hanging around outside.

I grabbed Joseph by the back of his collar and yanked him away from the building’s emergency exit. He knocked my hand away, straightening.

“Back off, Asher.”

“Then quit hanging around Cynthia’s dorm.”

Crossing his arms, Joseph had the audacity to look belligerent. “What makes you think I’m here to see her?”

I stared at him flatly until he squirmed.

“I’m allowed to worry about my kid,” he said.

“Cynthia has plenty of people in her life now who care about her and who are going to help take care of her. She doesn’t need you.”

“But she needs you? Get wrecked, Asher. Cynthia will come to her senses. She’ll realize eventually that the kid is going to need a dad.”

“The kid will have one,” I snarled, reacting more than I’d meant to. My wolf must have been right there with me, backing me up.

I wasn’t sure when my vow to protect Cynthia from her own mistakes had evolved into a bone-deep desire to keep her and her baby safe from any and all harm. But there was no denying it.

I might not be that baby’s real father, but I would take up the mantel in a heartbeat if Cynthia allowed it.

And if Dylan didn’t kill me.

Even if it didn’t work out that way, even if in the end, Cynthia and her brother wanted me to keep away, I would still protect them all from a distance.

Cynthia’s coach hadn’t been wrong when he complimented my willingness to protect my family. He also hadn’t been wrong in assuming that Cynthia and her baby were now as close as that to me.

“You think you can take my place,” Joseph said, bringing me back to the moment at hand.

A rotted-up tree stump would make a more suitable father for the baby than Joseph.

“You had your fun,” I said, doing my best not to think too hard about it. Every time I thought of this rat putting his paws on Cynthia, I wanted to smash something with my bare hands. “You can walk away now. There’s no need for you to take responsibility.”

“Write off my flesh and blood, huh?” Joseph scoffed. “Maybe that’s what you would do, but not me. That kid is mine. And you? You’ll never be able to do a thing about that.”

Damn him, he was right.

“I know you think of yourself as a big, tough son of an Alpha, but guess what? So am I.” His voice held vitriol.

My hands curled into fists. My wolf growled in my ear.

Joseph wasn’t done.

“You can bang Cynthia all you want, but you will never replace me.”