Page 122 of Deceit

My eyes fall down her white dress that hits mid-thigh and hugs her waist like it was made for her. It also dips between her breasts, daring and dangerous for my fingers to trail a path down her naked skin. “Well...for what it’s worth, you’re the sexiest nerd I’ve ever seen.”

Emmy’s eyes widen, but the corners of her lips curl. “Really?” I nod. “Damn...that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me besidesmove.”

“You’re always too close.” Emmy tsks at me. “It’s for your own safety, Ems.”

“Why? Do you carry around explosives with you or something?”

I smirk, feeling light as a feather and without a care in the world. “Or something.”

Emmy leans her elbow on the railing and looks up at me with curiosity. “Now I’m intrigued.”

“Are you?” She nods, and I lean in, not giving a flying shit about how inappropriate my next words are or my regretting them tomorrow. “Have you ever thought of fucking me? Because I’ve imagined it a million times with you.”

Emmy’s already pink cheeks from drinking so much flush deeper, and I see her swallow.

So I act bolder and erase some more space between us. My eyes lock with her plush lips, and I want to devour her right here and now.

I’ve spent the last three years with this fantasy of making her mine. I’ve even thought about asking her on a date, even got close once, before Mills busted in the room like the ass clown he is.

I never did come up with the courage to do it again.

I just watch her like a shy middle-schooler with a crush on the hot girl, and I bet she tastes as sweet as she looks.

“No?” I inquire with a perked brow when she doesn’t answer. I mean, I could’ve imagined it all, but sometimes I swear I feel Emmy looking at me.

“I-I...maybe.” My chest presses into hers, and my index finger brushes underneath the soft skin of her chin. “What are you doing?”

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?”

“Yes.”

“I booked us a room at the Bellagio. Two beds under Mr. and Mrs. Bishop to keep your respectable reputation intact.”

“Wouldn’t the two beds give it away that we’re not actually married?”

I didn’t think of that while she was buying tacos at one of the food vendors we stopped at. Rookie mistake.

“Maybe.”

“Thank you, though,” she whispers. “That was nice of you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Bishop?” Her eyes sparkle, and it’s probably my buzz, but they’re almost otherworldly.

“Mhm?”

“I think I like you a little.” My body promptly solicits me to kiss her here and now, but the small part of me—the one that’s not so fucked up from mixed drinks—warns me to chill out.

And I need to shut it the hell up with another shot. Or one to get me to black the fuck out, so I want to crash in bed—alone.

It needs to be alone.

“Wanna go hit another bar?”

Emmy narrows her eyes. “That’s it?”

“I’m flattered?” She pulls her face from my touch and steps back, a flash of regret forming over her features. “I think you’re hot, Ems. Trust me, the things I’ve thought about you are not soft and cuddly.”

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