Page 101 of The Fake Out

Edible body paint.

A thrill raced up my spine, the tingles of a good adrenaline rush. This was one hundred times better than any stolen base. I tossed my coat off my shoulders, then yanked my shirt over my head, popping a button or two as I went. The idea of her brush on my skin had my body going from zero to sixty in half a second.

“What are you doing?” Gi asked.

“Getting naked.” My pants were next. In my rush, I tried to slip out of my shoes at the same time. My pants caught on my ankles, and I teetered, almost falling over.

Gi grabbed my arm, laughing as she stopped me from ending up on my ass. “I love that you can always make me laugh.” She leaned up and pressed her lips to mine.

That L-word that had slipped out of her mouth echoed around oddly in my chest. I wasn’t sure why. I normally wanted to know all the things she liked, so it felt weird that it put me on edge.

She pulled back, her smile settling the nerves in my system.

“I like making you happy. And the idea of being your canvas makes me tingle.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then sit down.” She nodded toward the stool where she normally sat to paint.

More carefully this time, I shucked my shoes, then my pants, and when I was down to my boxer briefs, I dropped onto my assigned seat and waited.

She pulled out a new palette and brushes and set herself up to work. Blue mixed with a purple to create a dark shade of navy, and then blue and green to make a teal-ish blue. It was something I’d seen her do plenty of times before, yet at this moment, I was riveted. Dying to know what the colors would create. Dying to be the focus of her creativity, of her passion.

I’d watched her paint many times over the last almost two months. But from the outside. From across the room or over her shoulder. I’d never gotten to view what I was about to see.

She moved toward me, her attention focused on my chest, and my mouth went dry. All the blood in my body surged to my cock as she dropped to her knees between my legs. I was practically naked while she was still fully clothed. It was the opposite of how our nights usually went. Normally, it was her body I was worshipping. But the way her eyes took in every inch of me made me feel like I was being worshipped. I swallowed down the intense thrill that gave me. But my heart pounded as she looked up from under her long lashes.

“It might be cold.” She warned, lifting her brush.

The first stroke against my pec was icy, but it didn’t feel cold. It like a branding. Fire ripped across my chest, like each brush of color was marking more than my skin. Every experience with Gi was unlike anything I’d known. Her touch always turned me on, and right now, my cock was beating against the seam of my boxers, trying to reach for her.

But this intensity that was more than physical hung over each moment. I should have known it would be this way, because a haircut with her had felt life-alternating. And yet I felt hypnotized watching her paint my chest. Experiencing the creative spark in her eye from this side was thrilling. Her free hand came to rest on my thigh, and my muscles clenched in response. Her breasts barely brushed my cock. Once. Then again. My blood raged. I was desperate to touch her. To feel her body against mine. But I locked myself in place.

I balled my hands into fist to keep myself from reaching out. I wanted to see what she’d paint. But once the wall started to form, with waves along the edge. I couldn’t stop myself.

I titled her face to mine. “The breakwater.”

The corner of her mouth kicked up, but she looked back at my chest. “If there was a moment between us that I wanted marked in time, it would be that one, because that night I learned what it felt like to be enchanting to someone. To have a man not be able to look away from me, but want my words just as much as my body.”

Her statement easily spilled from her lips, but it cracked at my soul.

“Gi, I’m forever enchanted by you—” My whispered confession was cut short when a large, cold drop of paint hit my stomach.

“Oops.” She looked up to my eyes as she leaned closer. The breath hissed between my teeth as she licked lightly against me, taking the glob of paint away. “Hmm,” she murmured against my skin. “I’m not sure the end of the rocks is right.” She trailed her lips up my abs, less than a breath from my skin.

My thighs spread on their own as her breasts moved closer. My body thrummed a beat along with the pounding in my ears.

“This needs to go.” Her tongue flattened against my left pec, right beside my nipple. A groan rose from deep in my chest, and the second she made contact with my nipple, my hips thrust up.

“Gi,” I moaned.

Slowly, she moved back down toward the elastic of my boxers. My cock jumped, pressing into her tits. Big teasing eyes danced as she glanced up at me before pressing a kiss to my tip. Even through the thin material, it was too much.

“Please, Mariposa. I need your lips around me,” I begged.

She pulled me out, and my cock sprang toward her like he knew exactly where he belonged.

As she wrapped her soft hands around me, a deep groan escaped my lips. And when she touched her tongue to my tip, I almost fell out of the chair.

When her lips circled me, I fisted her hair at the back of her head and guided her to take me deep. The stroke of her mouth on my cock made me feel cherished, worshipped. My chest tightened. Every part of my being wanted to thrust forward and own her, encourage her to work me over until I couldn’t see straight, until every part of me belonged to her. But I couldn’t do that.

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