lift it to my lips and moan in pleasure. “Oh. My. God. Asher.” My eyes close. When they reopen, Asher is leaning against the counter, ankles crossed, coffee mug stopped right before his lips, and an odd expression plastered on his face. “What?” I ask, wiping my face, thinking I have sleep drool on it. He swallows hard. “Um, I need to go. I mean, go shower. Yeah, shower.” He rushes out of the kitchen.
