Asher’s POV
I can't settle.
The hotel room feels like a cage with four walls pressing in. I pace around like a maniac, never settling at one place.
My skin still tingles where Blaze's foot traced up my leg. The ghost of his touch burning through chlorine and hours of trying to forget.
The shared wall taunts me. I swear I can hear him moving around next door. His footsteps, even when a drawer opens.
I shower. Let the water punish me until I'm shivering. It doesn't help at all. The heat under my skin has nothing to do with temperature.
I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. Every time I close my eyes, I see him in that water–looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered. It was already 12 at midnight, then 1, thoughts were rushing but sleep wasn't coming. Not tonight.
I grab the minibar whiskey. Down it in one gulp then pour another. The alcohol dulls the sharp edges. Makes everything feel slightly less catastrophic.
A knock comes, not from the hallway. From the connecting door I didn't know existed until now.
I shouldn't open it. Know exactly what happens if I do. I open it anyway.
Blaze stands there. Shirtless. Sweatpants low on his hips. Hair mussed like he's been fighting his pillow for hours.
"Heard you pacing." His voice is rough. "Can't sleep either?"
"Go away."
"Make me."
Neither moves. The air crackles between us like static before a storm.
"One drink," Blaze says finally. "That's all."
It's not all. We both know it. But I step aside.
He brushes past me. His shoulder grazes my chest. Sparks ignite where we touch. I grab another whiskey from the minibar. Hand it to him. Our fingers brush on the glass.
"So." He settles on the edge of my bed like he belongs there. "Want to talk about the hot tub?"
"Nothing to talk about."
"Right." He takes a long sip. "That's why you ran like the building was on fire."
"I didn't run."
"You practically left a vapor trail, Ashy."
I sit beside him. Too close. Not close enough. The mattress dips under our combined weight.
"What do you want me to say?"
"The truth would be refreshing." His eyes find mine. "For once in your life."
"The truth is complicated."
"Try me."
The whiskey burns down my throat. Liquid courage I desperately need.
"The truth is I can't stop thinking about you." The confession scrapes out raw. "The truth is a year apart didn't change anything. Not for me."
Blaze sets down his glass. Shifts closer until our thighs press together.
“And..?”
“And I still…” I stop. Swallow hard. Unable to finish.
"Still what?"
"You know what."
The space between us shrinks. Millimeter by millimeter. Gravity pulling us together like it always has.
"We shouldn't," I whisper.
"Probably not." He says, but kisses me anyway.
Soft at first. Testing. Then deeper as I respond. My hands find his hair. His grip on my waist.
"Fuck, I missed this." Blaze groans against my mouth. "Missed you so goddamn much."
"Show me." I pull at his waistband. "Show me how much."
Clothes disappear, starting with his sweatpants, then my boxers. Until we're skin against skin, heat against heat.
Blaze pins me to the mattress. His weight settling over me. Familiar. Perfect. Like coming home.
His mouth finds my neck. Teeth grazing the sensitive spot below my ear. I arch into him, gasping.
"Thought about this every night." His tongue traces my collarbone. "Touching you. Tasting you."
"Then stop talking and do it."
Blaze slides lower. His breath’s so hot against my stomach. My hips. Then wet heat engulfs me without warning.
"Oh fuck—"
His mouth works me expertly. Slow pulls. Tight suction. His tongue swirling around the head before taking me deep again.
"Wait…" I tug his hair. "Won't last if you keep—"
He pulls off with an obscene pop. "Where's the fun in lasting?"
"I need you inside me first."
His expression shifts. Hungry to tender in a heartbeat. "Yeah?" His voice drops. "Need me to fill you up, Ashy?"
"Please." I'm past pride now. Past dignity. "Please, Blaze."
He reaches for his sweatpants. Produces a small bottle and foil packet from the pocket.
"Came prepared?"
"Hoped." He slicks his fingers. "Didn't expect."
His finger circles my entrance. Presses gently as my body opens for him like it remembers. Like it's been waiting all year for exactly this.
"That's it." He works me open slowly. "So tight. Missed this perfect ass."
"More." I push back against his hand. "I can take more."
Two fingers stretch me and find the spot that makes lightning shoot up my spine.
"Right there?" He crooks them again as he watches me writhe.
"Yes… Fuck, right there…"
"Could make you come just like this." A third finger joins. "Watch you fall apart on my hand."
"No." I grab his wrist. "Want your cock. Right now."
He withdraws. Rolls on the condom. Lines himself up.
"Look at me."
I opened eyes I didn't realize were closed. His face hovers above mine. Raw. Vulnerable. Then he pushes inside.
The stretch burns perfectly. I wrap my legs around his waist. Pull him deeper until he's fully seated.
"God." His forehead drops to mine. "I forgot how good you feel."
"Move. Please move."
He does. Slow at first. Deep strokes that make me feel every inch of him. Then faster as desperation takes over.
"Harder." I rake my nails down his back. "Want to feel you until tomorrow."
He snaps his hips. Drives into me with force that slams the headboard against the wall.
"Like that?" Another brutal thrust. "This is what you need?"
"Yes, don't stop, please don't stop…"
His hand wraps around my cock. Strokes in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation is overwhelming.
"So close," I gasp. "Blaze, I'm so close—"
"Come for me." His voice wrecked. "Want to feel you come on my cock."
I shatter. His name tears from my throat as I spill over his fist. My body clenches around him, pulling him over the edge.
He buries himself deep. Shudders through his release with a broken moan that sounds like my name.
Afterward, we lie tangled together. His arm across my chest. His breath warm against my shoulder. Peace. Brief and fragile as morning frost.
Then panic crashes in. Cold and suffocating. Tomorrow there will be cameras, reporters and everyone is watching.
"You need to go."
Blaze stiffens beside me. "Ash."
"Now. Please."
Silence. Heavy. Devastating.
He gets up, dresses without a word. Pauses at the connecting door. His back to me.
"You can't keep doing this." His voice is quiet. Broken. "Wanting me in private. Pretending I don't exist in public."
The door clicks shut and I curl into myself, shaking. The sheets smell like him. Like us. Like everything I keep destroying.
And I've ruined everything. Again.