Page 57 of Just (Fake) Married
My hand was still on her knee. God. She was soft.
“If the kiss doesn’t make your breath catch and your toes curl, then he’s not worth it,” she said. That blush had real sustaining power. I carefully reached from her knee to her wrist, taking note of her pulse. Elevated, but not dangerous. “Why were you talking to my sisters about kissing?”
“I wasn’t,” I answered. “I was talking to them about…”
I stopped myself. I was talking to them about the closet incident in high school. Now it was all starting to make sense. I pushed closer towards her.
“I asked them if they knew why you punched me in that pantry.”
She looked right at me. The firelight reflected in her eyes made her seem powerful. Like she had secrets. Secrets I was suddenly dying to know.
“Harmony, you have to tell me,” I said, leaning forward. I was smiling, but I felt like I was dangerously close to seeing if she’d let me kiss her again. “We’re married.”
“Fake married.”
“Still.”
“Fine. I didn’t punch you in that pantry,” she said. “You kissed me.”
I blinked. Pulled my hand back from her wrist. “What?”
“Your brother got in a fight and you pulled me into the pantry and…you kissed me. Then you pulled away and I leaned in at the wrong time, and my head banged against yours.”
I could feel my eyes grow wide as the truth was finally revealed. “And that’s how I ended up with a black eye?”
“Yes. Because you kissed me,” she said.
“Why did you let me believe that you punched me?”
She shrugged. “Well, that Monday at school after the party, you just…forgot everything. Like it didn’t happen. And you were so convinced I hit you, I just let you believe it.”
I’d pulled her into a closet, kissed her, and didn’t remember it at all the next day. Yeah, I can see why she might have been hurt about that. Now it all made sense. Her animosity towards me every day after that.
“We kissed?” I asked again, and she nodded. “And I gave you this…curl and catch?”
“Catch and Curl,” she corrected me. “It’s important to get your Cs in the right order. And I didn’t say that. My sisters merely suspected.”
“Hmm,” I said, dismissing that. A girl doesn’t remove the spark plug from my car on prom night if the kiss didn’t mean something to her. “Did it happen again today when I kissed you at the courtroom?”
“Well, no, but that wasn’t a real kiss.”
I wouldn’t take that as an insult because it had felt pretty real to me. Still, the gauntlet was thrown. “Maybe I should give you a real kiss so we can test this theory?”
She was shaking her head, but she also wasn’t getting off the couch. “But that’s against the rules.”
My lips curled into a smile. “You said no kissing on the mouth, but it was okay to kiss you…other places.”
I put my hand under her knee and pulled her towards me. Her leg stretched out and slid over my lap as her body lay flat onthe couch. Her sweatshirt rode up, revealing the tiny, bright pink panties she was wearing.
“Jesus,” I breathed. “Harmony.”
I was fascinated by those panties. The way the elastic dug into the flesh at her hip. The way I could see the puffy edges of her pussy through the pink cotton. The dampness there. Was it the talk of kissing that made her wet? Was it sitting on the couch with me?
I was hard in a heartbeat, and all I wanted in the world, more than having my job back, was to brush my thumb over the damp cotton hiding her sweet spot.
She pulled down the sweatshirt, covering herself back up, but the damage was done. The image burned into my brain. Her leg shifted on my lap, the muscle of her calf brushing over my erection. I hissed in a breath and put my hand down on her leg, holding her against me. My cock trapped between her leg and my body. She gasped, and I realized what I was doing and let her go.
I turned, rising up on a knee, her legs parting so I could get between them. I put one hand on the arm of the couch over her head, bracing myself there, staring down at her face.
