In His Bed, On My Knees

Asha

I didn't mean to fall asleep in his bed.

I swear I didn't.

But when you've been scrubbing floors and polishing mirrored walls since 5 a.m., it's easy to lose track of time... and consciousness.

Working for an elite cleaning service meant I should be invisible to the wealthy men I tidied up after. They never noticed me, and I preferred it that way. But Kade... he was different.

The moment I woke up, everything was wrong.

The sheets were too soft. The air too still. And that scent-clean, crisp cedar and something darker underneath, like spice on silk-wrapped around me like a second skin.

His scent.

And I wasn't just in his bed.

I was wearing his shirt.

A stupid, reckless indulgence. It was folded neatly in the closet earlier that day, pale gray with the faintest stripe, thick enough to drown me in comfort. It looked untouched. Expensive. Too expensive for someone like me.

But I'd held it to my face like a fool. And then I slipped it over my skin. Just for a second. Just to know what it felt like. Call me a weirdo, but it had be my cravings to feel him even just for a moment.

Then I closed my eyes, savouring on his scent.

And now, my body stilled like prey when the air shifted.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, the room was dark, and a shadow loomed over me.

"You look comfortable."

Coat still on, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, briefcase left at the door, he stood at the edge of the room. Unreadable, his dark gaze crept slowly over me.

The sheet fell from my shoulders as I sat up quickly. Scrambling upright, my heart pounding against my ribs, panic licked my spine.

"I-I am so sorry, Mr. Renner- I didn't mean to-"

He held up a hand, silencing me. The moonlight cast a glow over his chiseled features, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"Don't move," he said.

I froze. My bare legs tangled in his sheet, his shirt coming loose on one shoulder. My pulse thudded louder than my voice could.

He approached me with methodical movements, like I was something to be observed. Not a person. Not the woman who'd cleaned his penthouse every Tuesday for the past eleven months. Just a shape in his bed. An odd, silent disaster he'd found hidden amid the life he kept clean.

I swallowed hard, the taste of fear and something hotter stuck in my throat. He was close now. Towering. Tall, slender, keen. The kind of man who never had to raise his voice to take control of a room.

"Take it off," he ordered.

My eyes expanded. "What?"

He didn't blink. "The shirt."

I hesitated, my hands hovering on the shirt.

But there was something in his voice that didn't allow defiance.

I tugged the hem of the shirt down tighter against my thighs, my stomach doing back slip, heat lighting over my cheeks.

"Please don't report me. I need this job."

His stare locked with mine.

"I'm not firing you."

"Then... what are you doing?"

His reply was sluggish. Measured. "Making you to stay."

I blinked. "What?"

His jaw ticked. "Right here. In my bed. You don't move. Not until I tell you."

A shudder trailed down my spine.

It wasn't fear.

It should've been.

But it wasn't.

Because for the first time in ages, someone noticed me. Not just someone, but Kade Ranner, the man I had always dreamt of. Believe me I had always anticipated for this day to come.

He was looking right at me.

And I couldn't look away.

I should've gotten up. I should've apologized again. I should've done anything but stay still, with my skin tingling under his look and his shirt brushing against the tops of my thighs.

But I didn't.

I stayed.

Because some silly part of me wanted to know what would happen next.

He sat on the edge of the bed. He didn't touch me. Not yet. But close enough that I felt the heat of him. My breath froze in my throat as his fingers extended out and grazed the edge of the collar. Just a brush. A test.

"I've seen you," he continued, voice low. "The way you move. Always silent. Always careful. Like you're trying not to exist."

My heart skipped.

He continued. "But you do exist. Right now, you're very real. And you're wearing my shirt."

I couldn't talk. Couldn't move.

He tilted his head. "Why this shirt?"

"I-" I licked my lips. "It smelled like you," I replied, the words came out of my mouth before I could control myself.

His eyes clouded.

"Good," he said.

And then his fingers grabbed the edge of the shirt and dragged it carefully off my shoulder, baring one strap of my bra. His knuckles brushed my flesh. I shuddered.

"Do you know how long I've been hoping to see you like this?"

My breath caught. "You... you have wanted to see me like this?"

He nodded. "Yes. Every Tuesday. Every Thursday. I wanted to see you. Even if it was simply by what you left behind."

I swallowed. "You didn't say a word."

"I dislike being interrupted. But, tonight I made an exception."

I was at a loss for words. My thoughts were jumbled, straddling the line between want, fear, and an unexplained, yearning hunger.

He leaned up close, his breath hot against my ear. "You have ten seconds to leave if you don't want this."

My hands clenched the sheets, my heart beating nonstop.

But I didn't move.

Not because I couldn't.

Because I didn't want to.

One heartbeat. Two. Three.

He counted with the slide of his fingers up my leg, the edge of his palm brushing heat into my skin. By the time he reached five, my breath was shaking.

By ten, I still hadn't moved.

His palm cupped my jaw, thumb touching the corner of my mouth.

"You stayed."

"Yes," I muttered.

"Good girl."

A small whimper escaped me.

Then his mouth was on mine. Oh God, it was amazing, you know the kind of feeling when your long time crush lips landed on yours.

The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't sweet.

It was possession. It was power. It was the kind of kiss that rewrote rules and burned everything calm out of me.

I kissed him back. Hard. Hungry. Moaning into his mouth like I'd been waiting for this, too.

He claimed skin as if he already knew it as his hands moved over me, strong and slow. My body throbbed as it arched to meet him where he didn't touch.

I didn't care what this meant.

I didn't care what happened tomorrow.

I wanted it tonight.

I wanted him.

I was gasping and my lips were swollen when he pulled back. His dark, impenetrable eyes swept over mine.

Then he said the words that made my stomach turn.

"Tomorrow," he said in a harsh voice. "You come back. Same time. Same place."

My heart pounded.

He leaned closer. His mouth grazed my ear.

"On my bed."