"Now you've done it." He grasped at Diana's b.r.e.a.s.t.s, so full and voluptuous. "Now I won't let you go."

He f.u.c.ked her hard, triggering a staccato of moans to push out of her and echo through the room. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!"

But, he still he wasn't ready to finish, he pulled out and flipped her over.

She was barely able to take another breath before, he thrust inside of her from behind. And when he entered her that time, it nearly undid her. She could've let it all go there, but she held on for Asher.

She wanted to come again, but with him, together.

"Harder. I want to feel you in my stomach," she screeched.

Her words seemed to set him on fire and he did what she asked. He moved so fast, his b.a.l.l.s slapped against her a.s.s and she reveled in the sound.

Her moans were pings of one word that spit out of her opened mouth with no control. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!"

That was all she had to say, all that she could form her lips to moan. "Oh! Oh!Oh! Oh!"

His c.o.c.k sent her into overdrive. An intense numbness started at her toes, she was so close to being shoved over the edge for the second time, and hoped to G.o.d that he was close, cause she had nothing else left in her.

"Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh."

"G.o.d Diana, you're..." He didn't finish his sentence but with three harder, deep thrusts he finished in her. Their moans intermingled into one long sound, and he panted.

Diana's heart raced and she felt weightless, like she could float right up to the clouds. Unlike every man she'd been with before, Asher didn't immediately remove himself from her body. He traced circles into the flesh of her back. It sent shivers through her.

He stayed in her, though she didn't know why.

She liked it.

It was intimate.

s.e.xy.

Like he didn't need to disengage from her. It made her feel like he wanted her, even after his d.i.c.k was done.

He kissed her down the spine. "You're the boss."

She laughed in a hoa.r.s.e, after-s.e.x way. "You're obligated to say that when you're d.i.c.k is still inside of me."

"No. I mean it."

"They all do," she whispered.

"I'm not all men."

"Maybe, you're not."

He pulled out of Diana, turned her over, grasped her jaw, and brought that lovely face close to him. "I'm not like any man you've ever known. I'm your favorite nightmare and your worst dream all in one. I'm everything you shouldn't want. And you're everything I need. Everything I don't deserve."

She swallowed though her throat was scratchy and raw. He spoke with such confidence. And although, she believed him, she needed a moment to recoup.

"Coffee," she blurted out.

Shock fell over his face. "Huh?"

"I need coffee," she said.

He brushed her black curls away and kissed her forehead. "You want coffee?"

"Yes."

"Okay." He kissed her forehead, and it reminded her of how Neil would do it long ago, when they first got married. If Diana hadn't missed that part of marriage so much, she might've been creeped out. But it felt right with Asher. Everything did.

And that scared her.

"Oh, I need to tell you something," Asher said. "There was another murder tonight. I heard it on the police scanner on the way home from the office."

Diana sat up straight. "What? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"And miss out on the chance to f.u.c.k you senseless? No thanks. It didn't feel like the right time." Asher climbed out of the bed. Moonlight seeped in from the window and hit his skin. The layers of muscle on his back flexed as he stretched.

G.o.d, he's a thing of beauty.

He turned back to her. "I just wanted you to know, because I think you forget this creep is still out there. Still killing."

Diana shook her head. "Jesus. I have to get to the office. I need to get a jump on this story."

"No, you need to stay right here for the night where it's safe. Tomorrow, in the daylight, you can investigate to your heart's content."

She loathed being treated like a fragile child. Like a woman who didn't know the dangers facing her. But if everything went according to plan, she'd have Cupid in her sights soon enough.

She gave up, and relaxed in that warm bed of his, relishing in his scent as it clung to the sheets. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

He kissed her on the forehead. "Of course I am."

Asher left Diana naked and trembling in her post-s.e.x nerves.

Wait a minute. He didn't even put any clothes on, before leaving his bedroom and running downstairs.

She was sure his staff had seen him naked plenty of times, he probably was not the type of man to care, but Diana wasn't that comfortable yet.

I'll grab one of his shirts and put it on, since he clearly won't be using any.

She climbed out of his immaculate bed and stalked toward the closet.

What does a man like Asher Bishop have in his closet?

She opened the door and stuck her head in. It was an enormous s.p.a.ce, one that would make any shopping freak o.r.g.a.s.m. There was a walk way in the center that stretched out at least severn to ten feet. Shelves of shoes, hooks with ties, and clear compartments for other accessories sat on the right. Hanging clothes stood on the right, full of everything any well-dressed man could imagine-designer suits, high-brand sportswear, expensive casual items, and more and more.

In the middle, there was a little string that she pulled. It cast an orangey glow into the s.p.a.cious area.

Rows and rows of suits in various shades of black and gray and navy hung meticulously. Freshly pressed shirts all in color coordinated waves. She fingered the fabric as she moved to the end of the closet.

A long mirror hung on the back of the wall. But something was odd, instead of it remaining stuck all the way to the wall. There was a gap, as if the mirror served more as a door to a compartment.

And that's where I bet, Mr. Bishop keeps all of his p.o.r.n. Hmmmm. What type of naughty things do you hide in your closet?

Walking all the way to the back, she clasped her hands on the edge of the mirror and pulled it back. A black curtain hung behind it. She parted the thick, velvet fabric away. Confusion caught her first, than curiosity.

What is that?

Thin metal poles hung in front of her. She dragged her gaze down to their bottoms, and gasped when she spotted their sharpened tips. They sparkled in the closet's dim lightening.

Arrows. No. f.u.c.k. No. Those are not arrows.

Fear pumped through her veins. A booming sounded in her ears. She glanced back, real quick, and strained to hear if Asher was coming.

Arrows. Those are arrows. Why are those arrows. f.u.c.k.

She shook, so hard her teeth chattered. Her curiosity bit at her and she touched one and then pulled back, the sharp edge tearing at her flesh. Blood pooled at the tiny wound and droplets landed on the white carpet by her feet.

No. G.o.d, please no.

She was all alone, in the back of Asher's closet, and he kept arrows there. Checking behind her once again, she risked a further look, lifted her shivering fingers, pushed away the arrows, and touched the dark object laying behind them.

A polished, steel bow.

Next to it sat a bag of arrows, the silver tips sparkling.

No... this can't be.

Something compelled her to look away, though she wanted to memorize every inch of what she was seeing, in case she was dreaming. But her eyes gravitated toward something else that hung on a tiny shelf above the arrows.

Black gloves.

No, no, no. This is all wrong.

Asher's whistling sounded behind her, his footsteps came next.

f.u.c.k.

In a rush, she pushed the mirror back, stumbled to the light's rope, pulled it, rushed out of the now dark closet, and breathed hard in and out, as she raced over to the bed.

He has a bow and arrows.

His whistling came closer. He rounded the corner, right before she could get back in the bed. For some reason, she froze right there with her mouth open, unable to say anything.

Why would he have the gloves? I know why.

G.o.d, I know why.

Seventeen.

Cupid

"Is everything okay?" Asher asked.

"Y-yes. Of course. Why wouldn't I be? I'm just fine." She cleared her throat.

They stood there, and stared at each other.

"What were you doing?" Asher asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Your naked and standing next to the bed."

"You're naked with a tray of coffee and standing next to the doorway."

"Okay," he said.

What's wrong?

"Umm. So. . ." She rushed past him. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" He turned around and did his best to not rattle the tray holding both of their cups of coffee.

He'd requested something special from Grace who, for some reason, was beyond ecstatic with Diana staying at the house. She'd even given him an array of delights to take back to her. Along with the two cups of coffee, there were several spices and flavorings. Tiny cups of cinnamon, brown sugar, honey, and caramel. Cubes of chocolate rested on one plate. Tiny pastries and globes of melon sat on another.

A blood red rose lay right at the top of the tray.

"Diana?" Asher called louder as she continued out of the bedroom. "Diana!"

"Yes?" She paused in the doorway and slowly glanced over her shoulder.

"Where are you going?"