Page 32 of Fake

I pull back, my brows lifted into twin stop signs. “I see. You’re one of those men.”

Nathan slides his hands a few inches towards safety. “And what kind of man do you think I am?”

“One who blames a woman’s clothing for his lack of self-control. A proud member of the ‘she asked for it’ crew.”

He stops in his tracks. “A man is responsible for his actions. Always.” His eyes are intense as they hold mine and there’s a flicker of something dancing in my belly.

Something that feels like we’re having a moment.

And I’m not interested in having moments with Nathan West.

So, I do the only reasonable thing. I slide myself back into his arms, press my body against his, then take both his butt cheeks in my hands and squeeze.

He jumps. Yelps. Then pulls back and now it’s his eyebrows reaching for his hairline. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Just in case what you said was bullshit, I thought you’d like a turn at feeling objectified.”

Nathan shakes his head and laughs lightly.

“What was that?” I ask, dropping my jaw in astonishment.

“What was what?”

“That sound you just made.”

“I didn’t make a sound.”

“You did. From anyone else, I’d say it was laughter, but I didn’t know The Prince of Darkness knew how to do that.”

“Very funny,” Nathan replies in a voice lacking the sarcastic edge I’ve come to know and hate.

“You should do that more. It’s, uh, well it’s very appealing.” A blush burns across my cheeks. Did I really say that? Out loud?

“I’ll take that under advisement.” His gaze slips over my shoulder, and when his eyes meet mine, there’s a spark of something I don’t have a name for. “My cousins are staring.”

“Good?”

“Just warning you what’s about to happen.” Nathan reaches for me, lightly drawing his finger down the side of my face and along my neckline. His touch is gentle yet electric, sending shockwaves through every inch of my body. His fingers whisper across my skin, lower, lower, until they rest just above the swell of my breasts.

I’m shocked.

I’m speechless.

I should be outraged, no, I am outraged but I’m hypnotized as he moves closer, then closer still. Our lips are almost touching. My senses captured. I’m surrounded by the scent of sandalwood and whisky and the musk of his skin. Surprisingly, I don’t hate it. I don’t hate it at all.

Eyes on my mouth, he tilts his head and thank God for small miracles, I snap out of whatever spell he’s cast on me before I allow him to do something we’ll both regret. I am so not ready to be kissed by The Prince of Darkness.

I turn my face and press my cheek to his chest, wrapping my arm around his shoulders and holding him close while I catch my breath…

Only I can’t.

Not with his dick thickening, lengthening, and pressing against me, a long line of warmth neither of us can ignore.

No matter how much we might want to.

Nathan dances us into a dark corner, out of the middle of the room, then steps back. We stare for several long moments, my chest heaving, his eyes heavy and hooded and filled with something that sets my heart racing.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I had a lot to drink.”

---