Page 48 of Beautiful Thing

“How should you be? How aboutnice?” she suggests tauntingly. “And playful? Oh, and I don't know…flirty, even?”

A deep frown pulls at my face. “I don’t like PDA.”

Layla shakes her head at me. “Do I need to remind you? This fake-dating thing wasyouridea. I’m just along for the ride.”

“Are you serious?” I grouse. “You announced to my entire family that you were my wedding date!”

“And afterwards, I was willing to come clean to your mom and apologize for the whole thing. It wasyouridea to keep the lie going.”

I shake my head. “I can’t believe you’re going to try and pin the blame on me. Like we didn’t make this mess together.”

Layla sighs. “Fine. You’re right. Finger-pointing solves nothing. The point is, we’re stuck in this thing now. We’ve got to see it through.”

“Right.” I mumble.

She smirks playfully while making a slow approach to where I’m standing at the side of my desk. I freeze, watching her glide closer.

She snatches the newspaper from my hand and tosses it onto the desk next to us. Then she reaches her hand out and lightly grazes her fingers down my chest.

I literally shiver at her touch.

“My, my, what big muscles you have, lover man,” she says, her voice lowering as she continues to run her hand over my chest.

Shit. Touching me like that—is she trying to kill me?

I can’t help but make a face. Layla dramatically rolls her eyes at my discomfort, giving my shoulder a little shove.

“Come on. A little flirting never hurt anybody. Why are you so uncomfortable?” she probes.

Her words light something within me. In a flash, I grab Layla’s soft waist, spin her around, and pin her to the side of the tall filing cabinet.She gasps.

Leaning closer, I bring my lips to her ear. “Is this playful enough for you, Layla?”

She doesn’t respond. She’s shocked speechless. Her breathing becomes louder. Harder.

“A little flirting never hurt anybody?” I repeat. “Really? Because I can assure you that I’mhurting, Belle. I’m hurting real bad.”

I press up fully against her body, so she can feel my throbbing erection. So she can feel the not-so-harmless effects her flirting has on me.

A quiet moan escapes Layla’s lips. She grips the front of my shirt, as if her hold on me is the only thing keeping her upright at the moment.

My eyes fall to her full mouth. To her heaving chest. I’ve never wanted to kiss someone as badly as I do at this very moment. But I have rules.

Layla makes me want to break them, though.

The front door jingles in the distance, and I’m too lost in Layla’s big brown eyes to care. But then I hear footsteps approaching my office and then a loud, surprised, “Oh!”

Fu-u-uck.It’s my parents.

Layla gasps loudly, and we guiltily jump apart.

Mom and Dad share a knowing look. Meanwhile I’m smoothing out the wrinkle in the front of my shirt, where Layla crumpled the fabric in her fist.

I can’t decide if my parents’s crappy timing is a blessing or a fucking curse.

My mother grins merrily. “Oh, sorry to interrupt, kids.” She doesn’t look sorry at all.

My dad raises an eyebrow. “Not like this is a place of business or anything, right?”

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