Page 23 of Faking It with the Enforcer

Everyone’s still watching us as I turn to Emily, her eyes wide, her lips parted. She’s clutching her glass of water so tightly that her knuckles are white. I take it from her and set it down gently on the bar.

“You okay?” I ask, searching her face. She’s gone so pale that her freckles stand out in stark relief, little constellations dotting her forehead, her nose, her cheeks.

She nods, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I—I’m fine. Thank you. I’m fine.”

I lead her away from the bar, into a quiet corner so that she can catch her breath.

“You’re welcome. Just take a couple of breaths. You’re okay. I’m here, and you’re okay.”

She nods shakily, taking a breath, then another. She reaches out for me but then stops herself.

I don’t think. I just act on what my body needs, on what I know her body needs. I step closer, wrap an arm around her waist and lift her off her feet. She’s so tiny, so light. I pull her tight against me, feeling her press into my body, as though she desperately needs this closeness right now, too. Her breath stutters, and her arms wind around my neck as I cage her in against the wall.

“Wolf,” she whispers. “This isn’t fake, is it?”

I shake my head slowly. “Never was for me.”

“Me neither.”

Our gazes lock. Hold. A current passes between us, fusing us together in a way I’ve never experienced.

“Kiss me,” she whispers, her voice shaking.

So I do. Right in the middle of the fucking bar. I claim her mouth the way I’ve fantasized about doing dozens of times, maybe even hundreds, even though I’ve only known her for a couple of days. My lips press firmly against hers, and electricity shoots through me at the contact, forever changing me. She melts into me instantly, her body going soft, her lips parting. I slide my tongue into her mouth, tasting her for the first time, and she’s even sweeter and hotter than I imagined.

It’s perfection.

Her tongue slides against mine hesitantly, almost shyly, and the world fades away. It’s just me and Emily, our bodies pressed together, our mouths fused.

She moans softly, and the kiss turns dirty. Intense. Her fingers tug at my hair as I fuck her mouth with my tongue. She moans again, opening for me so I can take more. So I can kiss her deeper. Taste every inch of her sweet mouth. I groan, pulling her tight against me and grinding slightly. She gasps into my mouth when she feels how hard I am.

“You see what you do to me, little one? Never been so fucking hard in my life.”

She moans and wraps her legs around my waist. Even through our layers of clothing, I can feel the heat of her pussy, and it drives me wild. I feel like a man possessed as I suck on her tongue, bite at her kiss-swollen lips. She whimpers, writhing against me, her body begging for more.

I could devour her, right here, right now. All that matters is Emily. Her sweet mouth, the feel of her against me, her sunshine scent, her soft moans.

“Let’s go home,” she whispers against my mouth, fingers scratching over my cheeks.

I’ve never heard a better idea in my life.

Ten

Emily

Wolf pays our bill and we both ignore the highly amused stares of Lilah, Kincaid, Sadie, and Shane. I’m sure they saw everything, but I’m too achy and fizzy from my first kiss to care about anything but Wolf and this pulsing connection between us.

Once our tab is paid, we rush out into the cold and get into the waiting car, where Wolf practically barks his address at the driver and then orders him to put the partition up. That earns us yet another amused smirk.

The car is still sitting curbside when Wolf kisses me again, pulling me tight against him. His mouth is hot and hungry, his lips firm but soft. His beard prickles my skin, contrasting beautifully with the soft warmth of his mouth. I gasp into the kiss, and his tongue sweeps into my mouth, stroking against mine in a way that has me rubbing my thighs together. I can taste the whiskey on his tongue, and I suck at it tentatively. The groan he lets out makes me feel like I’m glowing from the insideout. I want to know what I else I can do to make him groan like that.

His huge hands cradle my face, his fingers brushing with a surprising gentleness over my jaw, and I shiver at the rough texture of his skin against mine. By the time he pulls away, the bar is long behind us and our ragged breaths fill the space between us. “Emily.” He says my name like a prayer, like a wish, like a hope, and I lean into him.

“Was that…okay? I don’t really know what I’m doing here,” I say, blood rushing to my already overheated face.

He pulls back slightly, frowning. “What do you mean?”

I shrug, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “At the bar…that was my first kiss.”

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