Page 23 of Fumbled Into Love

Somehow, I’ve got to turn this nightmare around, and fast.

“Mhm…” Nathalie slams back her wine and rises, smoothing the fabrics of her dress, hands sliding over the curves and slopes of her hips.

I choke when she clutches my hand and yanks me from my seat. The heat of her palm sears into mine as she interlaces our fingers.

Fuck. Holding hands is nice.

I scramble to drop a hundred-dollar bill on the table before she drags me out of the stuffy restaurant and into the crisp October air.

“Where are we going?” I ask as Nathalie struts to the valet and the young worker works to retrieve the car. A pit in my stomach forms while we wait. “Did I do something wrong?”

Nathalie spins, a pinched expression on her face.

“No, not at all. If this is going to be ourfirstdate we’re going to do somethingfun, not sit in a stuffy room full of snobby people and leave hungry because the serving sizes are for mice.”

I bark out a laugh and her brown eyes dart behind my head, wide and full of panic.

“Kiss me.”

The words are a demanding whisper and my stomach knots.

“What?”

My brain scrambles as she steps closer. Muscles seize as her hand glides up my chest to cradle the back of my neck. Her fingers press against my skin, dragging me into her bubble, so close that I can pick out the small flecks of gold in her irises.

“The guy to your left has a camera aimed at us. Kiss. Me.” Her breath dances along my skin.

She demands it again, and everything in my body short circuits. My eyes quickly dart left to the phone camera aimed at us, slightly hidden behind shrubbery. Nathalie steps forward, nailsdigging into my skin as she presses onto her toes. Reflexively, I dip my head to meet her.

I gulp as her eyes flick to my lips before her palm softly lands on my cheek, thumb swiping against my cheekbone. The heat of her hand sears where she makes contact and I sink into the touch. As I inhale a shaky breath, her lips press against mine in a hesitant kiss. It’s gentle and questioning and the shock of intimacy in it unlocks something deep in my chest.

My hands move of their own volition, cradling her face and demanding entry as my tongue sweeps across the seam of her lips. The kiss morphs into something hungrier, something so far fromfakeas she stumbles into my chest, breasts grazing my torso as bolts of electricity zap through my veins.

My mind screams.

More, more, more.

Something is unleashed inside me, something I’ve buried deep, tried to hide from. Something that Nathalie threatens to bring alive.

Nathalie releases a small moan and my dick twitches. I chase that sound, desperate to hear it again—to be the cause of that sound, again—when she pulls away, chest heaving and cheeks flushed a tomato hue.

“Uh…” She touches her lips and blinks. “I-I think they’re gone.”

My eyes are locked on her, the world fading to nothing but background noise as my axis tilts. A foreign feeling swirls in my gut as she shuffles on her feet.

“Who?” I gravitate toward her, skin scorching from the heat of the kiss.

“The guy with the camera?” Her brows crunch but I’m overwhelmed by the euphoria of her lips on mine, how her skin feltbeneath my calloused palms, and the way her body melted into mine, like the last two pieces of a puzzle. “You’re not half bad at that, you know.”

I—what?

I flounder for a response when the valet worker drives up with my car.

“You’re all set, Mr. Adams,” the kid says, dropping the keys into my hands before Nathalie snatches them away.

“I’m driving,” she declares, spinning the keys around her finger and kicking off her heels. My brain is full of fog and all my blood has rushed straight to my dick so I don’t argue when she pauses and whispers, “Tip the poor kid.”

I spin around, limbs flying toward my wallet. “Shit—yeah, right.” I slap a hundred-dollar bill in the kid's hand before bolting to the car.

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