Page 62 of The Risk

I moan. I can’t help it. He chuckles against my lips before pulling back. “You’re a good kisser,” he rasps.

“Not so bad yourself.” And then we’re devouring each other’s mouths again, making out hardcore in this booth, and I don’t even flinch when I register the sound of catcalls over the music. Let everyone around us watch. Give them popcorn for all I care.

That girl in the bathroom last week, the one who praised Jake’s tongue, was right on the money. His tongue is incredible. Feels likeheaven in my mouth. And his big, warm hand is now squeezing my thigh. I want to climb into his lap and maul him, but we’re at a bar, and we’re fully clothed. The fact that we’re in public is the only thing saving me from making a really stupid decision.

I pull away, breathing heavily. Jake’s gorgeous eyes peer back at me. A deep, dark green, like the jungle after a heavy rainfall. I can see why women go a little nutty for him.

I gulp down a hasty swig of cognac, then jerk when he takes the tumbler from my hand. Callused fingertips rub over my knuckles. I shiver.

“That was mine,” I accuse as he finishes my drink.

“We’ll order another round.”

“Probably not a good idea.” My voice sounds gravelly, so I clear my throat. Twice. “I should go.”

Jake nods. “Okay. Let me grab the check.”

I gesture to our empty glasses. “By the way, this counts as our date.”

He lets out a low, sexy laugh. “Dream on. This ain’t the date. This is still me being your fake boyfriend.”

“Oh really? Was that a fake make-out?”

“This isn’t the real date,” he says sternly. “But we should probably schedule that. When are you free?”

“Never.”

“How about tomorrow?”

Back-to-back nights? Is he nuts? I don’t even do that with the people I date for real. “Wow. You’re dying to see me again, huh?”

“Yes,” he admits, and my heart betrays me by skipping a beat. “So. Tomorrow?”

I cave like a house of cards. “Fine. But I’m not coming back to Boston. In one week I’ve spent enough time in this city to last me a lifetime.”

“I’ll pick somewhere closer to Hastings,” he assures me. “I’ll have Brooks’s car—should I come get you?”

“Absolutely not.” There’s no way I’m letting Jake show up on my father’s doorstep to pick me up for a date. “Unless you’re in the mood to get murdered.”

He chuckles knowingly. “I hoped you’d say no, but I’m a gentleman so I had to ask. I’ll pay your cab fare, though.”

“I don’t need your charity,” I mock.

“You just like being difficult, don’t ya?”

“Yup.” I rummage in my purse for my wallet.

“Want to make out some more before we go?” Jake’s tone is boyishly hopeful.

“Nope.”

His gaze turns devilish. “How about a blowjob?”

“Aw, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t have a penis.”

Jake’s laughter heats my blood. It’s deep and husky and I want to record it so I can hear it whenever I want. Which is beyond creepy and insanely unsettling. I’m starting to enjoy this guy’s company, and that worries me. A lot.

“You got in late last night.” My father’s disapproval greets me when I walk into the kitchen the next morning. “Out partying, I suppose?”

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