Page 68 of Text Appeal

He pauses to consider. “We wouldn’t let that happen, right?”

“Right. We’re both mature, capable adults,” I say, and it sounds good in theory. “Are you thinking this is a limited-time offer available while we’re fake dating sort of thing?”

“I don’t know. I guess so.”

“Okay. That’s a really ugly shirt.”

“What?”

“Your shirt. It’s repugnant.”

He raises his brows in confusion and looks down at the offending item of clothing. “It’s a plain black t-shirt. I only bought it a month ago.”

“Just unspeakably hideous in all the ways,” I say with my chin held high. “I feel bad for you, having to wear that.”

“You do, huh?”

“Yes. You should take it off. Now.”

He closes his mouth and stares at me like he’s reading my soul or something. Then at long last he says, “Okay.”

He sets his drink down on the table, strips off the shirt, and tosses it aside. Just throws it on the floor. The more of his skin I can see, the better I feel. Not a panic attack in sight. He flexes the muscles in his arms and shoulders as his chest rises on a deep breath. Like he feels better with less clothing too. Which just goes to show—I am a giver. He should thank me.

But instead, he says, “Any similarly strong feelings about my pants?”

“They disgust me.”

“Is that because she bought them?” he asks with his head cocked.

“Thought we weren’t talking about her.”

“Good point.”

“But no. They’re just yucky, you know?” I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t know how else to say it.”

“That’s a worry. Words are usually your thing.”

I shrug. How is my brain supposed to work when he’sshowing me so much skin. Impossible. “The pants need to go, Connor. Whenever you’re ready…”

Holding my gaze all the while, he undoes the button and lowers the zipper and down they go. Never has seeing a pair of pants hitting the floor given me such pleasure. Beneath are navy boxer briefs with a sizeable bulge. It’s a wonder I don’t swallow my tongue. His big strong body is a thing of beauty. I could stare for days at his flat stomach and the line of hair leading down. It’s obscene how badly I want to trace the thick vein leading into his boxers. With my fingers, with my tongue…

He stalks toward me. Not stopping until he’s towering over me. “What’s next, Blue? What are you thinking?”

I reach up to wind my arms around his neck. This he allows. But when I rise to kiss him, he moves his mouth out of reach. Which is both rude and wildly fucking unfair.

“You were in charge the last time and it was a disaster, remember?” he asks, tapping me on the tip of my nose with his finger. The man’s lucky I don’t try to bite it off.

“To be fair, that’s not exactly what I said.”

“It’s probably best if I take on the burden of leadership. Since you let the team down so badly and all.”

I open my mouth to call him on his bullshit. But it’s all part of his nefarious plan. In the blink of an eye, his hands are in my hair and his tongue is in my mouth. There’s no hesitation. He touches and takes like I belong to him already. Like I have for a long time.

This is what I want. Nothing else matters. I close my eyes to shut out the world. My breasts are crushed against his chest, and I’m holding onto him tight. He kisses me hot and wet anddeep, making my head spin. The familiar taste of him is heaven. Kissing him for hours would not be a chore.

One of his hands grips the nape of my neck while the other drags down the zipper on the back of my dress. I would offer to help get me undressed. It’s not as if I don’t have a vested interest in the outcome. But I’m pressed against him as hard as can be and doing my best to climb him like a tree. Nothing could be worth separating myself from him now. There’s no slow and easy. We’re all over each other and it’s perfect.

Sharp teeth nip at my bottom lip and the slight sting is sublime. His pupils are dilated, and his smile is pure wanton devilry. Seeing that smile on his poor bruised and battered face only adds to his whole roguish air. I press my thighs tightly together against the ache blooming inside.

---