We end up at Asher’s apartment because it’s closer. Also, we’re freezing and covered in snow, which would have had hypothermic consequences in my apartment.

“I can’t feel my toes,” Asher whines. “I can’t feel my toes.”

“You would think those nine hundred dollar boots would come with insulation.”

“You would think you wouldn’t be so sassy to the man who rescued you from freezing cold hell.”

“I have a hunch you have ulterior motives,” I say, peeling off my jacket. I hang it in the hall closet along with his.

“And what exactly do you think those ulterior motives are, Ms. Langley?”

“I don’t know,” I hum. “You tell me, Mr. McGowan.”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he brushes by me and with a gentle graze of his hand, he urges me to follow him upstairs.

“You hungry?” he asks.

“Always.”

“We left the food at your place, but I think I have leftover pizza in the fridge.”

“Damn, you really know how to make a girl feel special,” I laugh. “As long as we pair it with another two hundred dollar bottle of wine.”

“You mean you don’t want the four dollar bottle from Trader Joe’s?”

Up in his loft, Asher goes straight for his dresser. He throws a white thermal and a pair of joggers at me. Sexy.

I don’t bother going into the bathroom to change. Asher doesn’t either. I take off my leggings and sweater until I’m standing there in just my lacy, green bra and a pair of panties covered in reindeer. Super sexy.

“Do you have a staring problem, Ms. Langley?”

“Maybe.” I mean, how can I not? He’s standing there in his questionably sized boxer briefs, looking like the whole goddamn Naughty List.

“Are you going to put your clothes on?”

“It seems kind of pointless,” I say. “They’re just going to come off.”

Asher laughs. “I didn’t bring you here to have sex, O.”

“That’s a shame.” I frown. “I might die if we don’t.”

He groans. He feels my pain. He just won’t admit it.

“Shouldn’t we take things slow?” he asks, leaning against his dresser.

“Why?” I ask and I’m walking over to him before I can stop myself. I slot myself between his legs and slide my hands up his chest. I’m driving him crazy.

“I don’t know,” he says, quivering when my lips brush over his jaw. “I’d really like to not fuck this up again.”

I grin against his skin. “That’s sweet, Asher.”

“Yeah, well.” His hands subtly squeeze my ass. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“Don’t,” I whisper into his ear.

And that…

That’s all it takes.