Page 77 of Faker
“I think I’d rather stay and watch you.” My knees wobble when I say it.
He winks at me. “Last night you were all about listening. Today you want to watch. We’re developing quite a kink early on.”
“Call it date number four if that makes you feel better.” I keep my voice low enough so no one else can hear.
His face twists. “It might have to be. I’ve got plans tonight. I really want to see you, but maybe tomorrow?”
Disappointment hits, but I say it’s fine.
“Trust me, I’d rather spend time with you. I just can’t get out of it.”
Lynn returns with the family, who tell us thank you once more. Each of the kids dons the tiny hard hat included in their gift bags.
We wave good-bye to them as Kip from Purchasing walks up to Tate. “You’re a champion, man. Tiring out three kiddos isimpressive. I should have you over to entertain my crew. What’s your secret?”
Tate mumbles something about weekly rugby matches at Memorial Park, rock climbing, and weight lifting. Kip’s impressed whistle follows.
Lynn jogs up to me. “I think that went wonderfully, don’t you? The family is so excited about their home. And Tate! Who knew he’s so good with kids?”
I sneak another glance at him. I have to plant my feet on the ground to keep from lunging over and licking him.
“He’s been in a great mood lately, don’t you think?” Lynn says. “Such a positive influence on this project.”
She steps away before asking the volunteers to gather around for a progress update. As she runs down the worksite to-do list, I’m left alone to bask in my bliss bubble. Tate is happy, and it shows. And I’m the reason.
He trots up to me. “Did you get any photos from the far end of the worksite?”
I shake my head.
“Come on.”
He leads me to the back of the unfinished house, behind a pile of lumber. Someone’s truck is parked right next to it. It and the pile of wood create a tiny secluded spot in the middle of a bustling worksite. With everyone else gathered at the front of the house, all we hear are soft muffled voices. If I close my eyes, the hollow sound reminds me of the lava tubes I explored as a kid on the Big Island.
Tate turns me so my back is to the wall. He grips my waist; I press my hands against his shoulders.
“I needed a moment in private. With my girlfriend.” His lips shift into a half smile. “Hope you don’t mind.”
A rush of warmth floods my cheeks, and he inches closer to my face. When his lips hit mine, it’s an electric shock. His mouth parts, opening my lips, his tongue slides in, and I can’t breathe. His trademark clean taste fills my mouth, and I moan. I try to keep up with his heavy and urgent rhythm, but I can’t. His hands are a soft clamp over mine, pulling my body against his. Thankfully, no one can see us, because this kiss is pure pornographic lust.
He pulls away after what feels like a solid minute, though I can’t be sure. I’m so dizzy after that soul-shaking kiss that I sway a bit. He steadies me with his hands, which are now circling my rib cage.
“I thought about you all last night,” he whispers. “In the bathtub, wet, naked.”
The low hum radiating from the base of his throat makes me grin like the Cheshire cat. I nibble his bottom lip. “You should have come over. It would have been a nice surprise.”
“I am not a smart man.”
Again he captures me in a kiss that leaves me breathless. When I come up for air, he’s gasping as well.
“Did you make yourself come again after we hung up?”
I shake my head, too dizzy to speak.
“Why not?” He studies me with pleasure-drunk eyes, his lids halfway closed.
I lean into the hard bulge at the front of his pants. With my hand over his chest, I steady myself. If I weren’t holding on to him, I’d be a puddle on the ground. The truth dances on the tip of my tongue, waiting for me to be brave enough to say it.
“I wanted you instead.”
