Page 75 of The Fake Out

He weighed the statement, tipping his head one way, then the other, before finally saying, “I asked her to find a way to ruin the fucker that didn’t involve you at all.” Hands fisted at his sides, he grunted. “I can’t stand the fact that he hurt you. But I refuse to mess anything up for you, so I made sure to keep you out of it.”

My heart cracked. All the mad that had been there seconds ago disappeared, and in its place was this swamping emotion I couldn’t name. No one had ever done anything like that for me.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. But I can’t live with the idea of him not suffering for making you cry.”

I rushed forward and threw my arms around him. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled against his chest.

“For what?” he asked, tucking me into his body.

“I was pissed at you for leaving me to talk to a girl, but it was all about me,” I admitted, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.

He chuckled. “I love when you’re fired up. Don’t ever apologize for being pissed. But I am sad you took off my jersey because I’ve been dying to see my number on you.”

“Well…” The idea he didn’t sign things had haunted me for awhile now. Maybe…

I pulled out of his arms and moved to the counter reaching for a sharpie from the cup before coming back to him. My stomach fluttered slightly once again worried he’d think this was dumb.

“Think you could give me an autograph?”

He cocked his head to the side as I passed him the marker then I slowly lowered my shorts and spun to face the window.

He sucked in a hard breath but I heard him uncap the marker. “Damn Gi, I love the idea of my name on you.” His warm palm hit the bare skin of my ass pushing my shorts down so I could step out of them completely before the cold marker touched me. It moved quickly along my skin then it was gone. He bent and pressed his lips to the same spot and I shivered. “Mine.” The words were barely a whisper against me before he stood. But the idea of being his lingered, it felt too good for the casual we were supposed to be and I couldn’t let myself get caught up in that.

“Thank you.” Popping up on my toes, I pressed my lips to his. Quickly, desire took over, and I ran my tongue along the seam of his mouth.

With a groan, he yanked away. “What am I eating first, dinner or you?”

“Home team’s choice.”

The deep chuckle that reverberated through him made me shudder in the best way. “That’s you every time.”

A whimper rumbled in my throat as his mouth met mine. I parted my lips, and his tongue invaded, thrusting deep, desperate to meet mine. Leaning in, he pressed me tight to the cool glasses with his hard chest and smooth stomach. He snaked one hand down and grasped my thigh, hooking it over his hip.

He rocked his long erection against me, using his free hand to tug my hair and tip my chin up. My head banged against the glass, and I moaned. With a grunt, he pulled his lips from mine, then ran them along my jaw, his teeth nipping at my skin.

“You’re hot and wet already, aren’t you?” He swirled his hips against me and I thrust against him. His cock, so hard, pushed against the thin material of his dress pants, begging to be free, to sink into me. “You need my cock, don’t you? Did you think about me coming home and fucking you real good, Gi?”

“Yes.” I moaned. I needed nothing between us.

He nipped at my neck again, sending a zap of electricity to my core. “Did you touch this pussy, fuck your fingers, and pretend it was me?” He lapped against my collarbone, his tongue running along the swell of my breast. Then, abruptly, he released me and dropped to his knee.

My body buzzed with a pounding desire, but all coherent thought had left me.

“Because I fucked my hand thinking about you.”

“Em.” I whimpered.

As he slowly slid his fingers up my bare legs, I shivered with anticipation. I was desperate for him to touch me. He looked up, eyes dark with need, for an instant before he lowered his face and ran his nose along my thigh. It was almost embarrassing, the way my body was primed for him.

He ran his nose along the white lace covering me.

“Mmm, you smell so fucking good, all needy and ready for me.” His fingers bit into my ass cheeks as he pulled me closer, then he released his grip and hooked them into the waistband of my thong. “Now be my good girl and step out of these so I can have some of my favorite flavor.” He yanked the lace down my legs, and then his mouth was pressed to my skin. Slowly, his lips roamed up my inner thigh.

“Emerson, please,” I begged.

He smiled against my skin. “I know, Mariposa. I’ll make your body sing for me.”

Slowly, he lifted my leg over his shoulder and hovered, his breath brushing against my pussy. And when I thought I couldn’t stand it one more second, he took one long, painfully slow swipe along my slit.

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