Page 72 of Faking Forever 1
“No…” she murmurs.
“Open those pretty brown eyes for me.” I mock the volume of her voice.
Her eyes flutter open, slow and shyly. She covers her face in the process. As a few seconds pass, she opens them entirely, gracing me with her huge, brown, soulful swirls.
“Josh—I have an ugly morning face.” she covers herself more.
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FAKING FOREVER
“You look gorgeous, don’t. Please?” I grab the cover, pulling it back down past her chest.
What is with this sudden care about her appearance? I’d take her anyway, anytime, even if she was covered in filth.
“What are you even doing here, hm?” she takes a hand to her eyes, rubbing them as she sits up.
When did she trade the teddy bear pajamas for slip dresses?
Lacy ones at that. That’s all I needed to ensure that I really shouldn’t have worn these fucking sweatpants. Rushing to sit up with her, I throw myself forward to grab the flowers and bag of food.
“I wanted to bring you something—and I needed to see you.”
“You needed to? ”
Her eyes glistened at the sight of the flowers, just like I’d hoped.
“I needed to. I needed my regular dose of you. I was feeling deprived,” I chuckle.
She takes the bouquet, smelling it and poking at different petals. The straps of her nightgown were hanging off her shoulders, allowing me to see her different hidden tan lines.
“These are beautiful, really.” she gushes, laying them on her lap as she looks at me, reddening up in the cheeks.
I open the bag and dig inside, grabbing one of the cakes.
“Here,” I hold it up to her mouth, cupping my other hand underneath it, “they’re still warm, too.”
Humming, she takes my hand with both of hers, taking a full bite and chewing like a chipmunk.
“Good?” I snicker.
She bobs her head, soon gulping down her mouthful.
“Perfection.” she makes a chef’s kiss, letting go of my hand.
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The covers lift from her body and expose the most invitingly sensual lacy fabric dropped upon her body. Sheer enough to see the shadows of the parts of her that still remain a mystery to me. Her arm slips around her breasts, covering them.
“It’s so cold in here.” she shuffles to her computer desk, grabbing an old sweatshirt that was lying on the chair.Mysweatshirt, I’d like to add.
When her arms lift to pull it over her head, so does the slip, gifting my eyes with the sweetest sight of a satin thong that might as well have not even been there. It was so fucking thin.
But her skin looked soft to the touch, and the way her hips curved in the perfect places made it so hard not to wonder what she tasted like. Sweet like candy, I’m sure.
“You know, I’m glad you came,” she says, trailing over to me, “cause I think we should talk about something.” her body sits right next to mine on the end of the bed.
