A thrill runs through me—a dangerous shiver of realization. Because the worst part? I don’t regret it. Not the way he touched me. Not the way I responded. Not even the way I want more, to feel the way he went rigid underneath me and let out that guttural moan— I squeeze my eyes shut briefly, as if that will get rid of the mental image swimming around in my mind. He’d touched me the way I’ve been craving for so long. The way I’ve been asking Asher to for years. Except with Maddox, I didn’t have to ask or direct him. He just knew.
