Page 158 of Charming Deception

“Very.” I plant my knees on either side of his hips, my hands beside his shoulders, hovering over him. “I like anything with a lot of dick in it.”

His eyebrows go up.

“Metal is major big-dick energy,” I explain. “And boy bands make me want to dance. And both of them make me horny.”

His eyelids drift lower as I dip down, putting my mouth to his ear, and murmur hotly, with one-hundred-percent sincerity, “I’m a closet freak.”

Clearly, I’ve had too much to drink.

I don’t care. Because that’s what bubbly does. It makes you not care that it’s getting you smashed.

Jameson’s mouth drifts open.

I smile and settle back, sitting on his pelvis. Something quite firm jabs at my butt.

He’s hard.

Heat thrills through me.

Emboldened, I drift my fingertips over the conservative neckline of my nightshirt. “Megan on the outside…” I drift a finger down the bare outer curve of my breast, revealed through the gaping armhole. “Jessica on the inside.”

His eyes glaze over with heat as he watches me.

I press my hands flat to his chest and lean on him. “Do you like that?” I’m panting, my pulse speeding up.

He finally figures out how to work his mouth again and utters, “I think you’re cut off.”

The words make no sense to me. “What?”

“No more champagne for you,” he says slowly, so I can follow.

“I don’t need more champagne,” I say, just as slowly. “I need to make out with you.” I lean down and kiss him, just like that.

With a whole lot of tongue.

He kisses me back. For a long, wet, hot minute that takes my breath away.

Then he takes my face in his hands and gently lifts me away from his lips. He’s panting slightly.

I’m panting a lot.

His hazy blue eyes hold mine. Or maybe it’s my vision that’s hazy.

“I don’t want you to do anything you wouldn’t do,” he murmurs, “just because of alcohol.”

“I didn’t drink that much. I want to do this.” I try to kiss him again, but he holds me away.

“Sweetheart. You’re bubbling.”

I giggle. He’s still holding my face just above him like I’m some wriggling puppy about to lick him.

I sigh and hiccup at the same time. “I kind of hate tonight. It was weirdly emotional. Can’t we start over?”

He softens as we gaze at each other. “Of course.”

“Except I love that you told me those things about your family and your tattoos. And the champagne, that was good. Can I keep those?”

“If you want to.”

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