Page 19 of Fake Out Forever

“No.” He flashes his pearly whites. “It looks much better on you.”

I shudder under his gaze. I step back, and that’s when it registers. He’s naked underneath that towel. I take the sight of him in. The dark wet hair. A broad bare chest that is… I lick my lips… magnificent. Everywhere my eyes roam I see bright colored ink decorating his skin. He’s chiseled. He’s muscular. But most of all, he’s beautiful. When my eyes dip down to the V holding up his towel, heat blazes across my cheeks. I don’t dare to look into his eyes.

“I need water.”

I make a dash for the stairs and don’t stop moving until I hit the kitchen.

My heart is pounding. My mouth is dry. And I have to hold onto the counter to keep my knees from buckling. Desperate to snuff out the fire erupting inside of my body, I turn on the water, put my mouth under the faucet, and guzzle.

“We have plenty of glasses, duchess.”

I jump up, smacking the top of my head against the stainless steel. “Ow!” I yelp.

“Are you all right? Do you need some ice?”

“I’m fine.” I rub my scalp. “Why did you sneak up on me like that?”

“I live here, remember.” He chuckles.

I turn around, grateful he’s put on a pair of sweatpants. “I know, smart aleck.”

He moves in close. “I need to do something.”

“What is that?” I tug the hem of the T-shirt down.

“I want to kiss you.”

“What?” I tip my head back and blink.

“I need to kiss you.”

He tucked a loose curl behind my ear. “You need to kiss me? Why?” Which is a stupid, stupid question.

I don’t care why. I want him to kiss me.

He strokes the side of my face, slips his hand around the back of my neck, and pulls me to his bare chest.

I puff out a breath. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He’s so close I can’t think straight. It must be why I asked such a dumb question.

“Nope.” He smiles innocently. “Ready?”

Gazing down at me with hooded eyes, he takes my chin in his hand. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

“You have?” I squeak out.

“I have.”

Looking into my eyes, he asks, “May I kiss you, duchess?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, you may.”

He takes my mouth, soft at first until he’s drinking from me like dying of thirst. I arch into him, my breasts pressed against the hard plane of his chest. Heat smolders across my skin until it settles low in my belly. I’m burning up. He smells of pine and soap. My two new favorite scents.

“Thank you, duchess.” He whispers against my lips. “Now I can sleep. Good night.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Sweet dreams.”

I’m panting as he walks away.

---