Page 50 of Misadventures With My Fake Fiancé

“So are you going to open the box?” Mike asked once more, coming closer.

“Hell, no. Like I said, once the box is open, there's no going back.”

I tried to back up further away from him, but I bumped into the bed. My knees folded and I dropped onto the springy mattress. Mike bent down and placed his hands on either side of my body. Once again, he was so close our mouths almost brushed. Our breaths mingled.

“You're not talking about the box anymore, are you? You're talking about sex. Between us. Once we have it, there won't be any going back. I told you this before, Vi. You're mine. You can hold off all you want because you're afraid. But it's going to happen. You don't have to open the package. I don't need a box from Goldie to get kinky.”

He closed the miniscule gap between us and kissed me. Softly, tenderly. I lifted my hands to his head, running my fingers through his silky red hair. He tasted just as I remembered, minty and male, and something all Mike I would never forget. It was like time dissolved and we were eighteen again.

I sighed, settling into the kiss, but Mike pulled back. With one hand on my sternum, he pushed me backward onto the bed none-too-gently so I bounced up a little on contact. He loomed tall above me. Placing one knee on the bed, he positioned himself on his forearms. His gaze, directly above mine, was clear and focused. On me. “We've done sweet before. I want more this time. Let me know when you're ready.”

“For sex?”Right now!

“For not going back in the box.”

Did I want to sleep with Mike?Yes.Would it be mind blowing?Yes.Could I survive the fallout if he left?Undecided.Did I want to spend the rest of my life wondering 'what if?' Could I live with myself knowing I had this opportunity to be with him, to do things with him I'd fantasized about foryears? I was already in too deep. If he left, it would hurt, regardless of sex. I might have heartache later, but I could have an orgasm now.

He started to push up, to move away, by flexing his sinewy biceps. I hooked my hand behind his neck, held him in place. “I'm ready,” I said breathlessly. The words felt right. I could protect my heart only so much. But I couldn't live with myself if I let him get up. He was all I ever wanted and he wasright here.Right on top of me. All the wishy-washiness of the past few days were gone. I wanted this. I wantedhim.

Mike searched my face as if looking to see if I was telling the truth. I was. Oh, I so was. I was ready for him. I'd been ready for him since graduation.

18

“Really, Mike.” I lifted my head so our mouths met. I put my all into the kiss, and that included lots of tongue.

Within moments, he pulled back, pushed off the bed and stood tall, breathing hard.

“What?” I asked, confused. I checked out his tapered waist, his broad shoulders, and his lusty gaze.

“Let me go and make sure we really are alone.” He backed up and went to the bedroom door. “And, babe? Don't open Goldie's box. The first time we do it without any toys. Just you and me.”

I could only nod. Once he left, I contemplated my underwear. What did I have on underneath my clothes? Was it the fishing underwear of sports bra and cotton briefs or the fuck-me now panties I'd packed as a possibility? I patted my chest, feeling my bra. Underwire, lacy. I remembered in relief it was definitelynotthe sports bra. I inwardly grinned.

Minutes later, Mike returned, a predatory gleam in his eye, a wicked, bad boy smile on his face. He crooked a finger at me and I climbed off the bed, moved to stand in front of him. In my bare feet, I had to tilt my head back and look up at him. His eyes were hooded, his body tall, looming and commanding.

“Take off your shirt,” he told me. Commanding, all right.

I gulped, but did as he said, lifting the bottom and pulling it up over my head. I felt my hair come loose from the collar to swing and brush softly against my back.

Mike's gaze dropped to my breasts and I watched as his jaw clamped tight and a muscle ticked in his cheek.

“Now, the jeans.” His voice was darker, deeper than even a moment ago.

Could he hear my heartbeat slamming into my chest? Slowly, I undid the zipper, shimmied the denim down over my hips and lower, and then kicked my feet out of the pant legs.

I stood before him in only my matching pale blue lacy bra and panties. They were skimpy enough that he probably couldn't miss the hard little points of my nipples through the delicate fabric.

He just looked his fill, and then some more. I felt exposed, vulnerable. “I'm not eighteen anymore,” I told him, nervously.

Brushing his fingers in a soft caress over the swell of one breast, he murmured, “No. You're definitely not eighteen anymore.”

One minute I was standing in front of him, the next I was lifted and dropped onto the bed, my head on the pillows. Pressing one knee into the mattress, he crawled up the bed, stalking me like a lion would his meal, finally joining me. His full body pressed alongside mine, one arm thrown over my body to brace himself up on his elbow. His hand brushed loose strands of hair off my face. “God, you're beautiful.”

I smiled from the inside out at his praise, but he kissed me and that was the end of that. And all other thoughts.

From hearing Goldie talk about Mike being a dominant man in life—although she was specifically referring to ‘in bed’—I expected him to take the lead. I'd never had a man do that before, not even Mike our first time. I'd craved this forcefulness,almost bossiness of a man in bed. I'd written about it in my book. But to have it happen for real, to be beneath a man who took what he wanted, all the while giving me exactly what I needed, was a complete and total turn-on.

It lit some fire in me that never had an ignition source before. Mike's alpha attitude, his body pressing into mine, his kiss that all but tore away any defenses, had me burning for him.

---