The heat in the kitchen had been a living thing, thick and suffocating. For a moment, buried under the scent of vanilla and Asher's expensive cologne, I forgot. I forgot that I was supposed to be his enemy, that the only reason I was here was because of my son, Leo. I forgot that I hadn't come here for a reunion or reconciliation. The five years of cold, agonizing silence vanished. My body betrayed me, arching into his touch, my legs wrapping around his waist as if they belonged there.
He groaned against my neck, a sound of pure, unadulterated hunger that vibrated through my very bones. He carried me toward the stairs, his grip bruisingly tight, and for a second, I wanted to drown in him. I wanted to let him do to me the forbidden things my body was screaming for. The hunger I had buried five years ago came crashing back at his touch. Damn it, Chloe.
