Page 51 of Fairy Tale Lies
She gave a hesitant nod.
What the hell?
Trying to swallow back his anger and hurt, he said, “I get we’ve only been dating a short while, but we’ve spent a shit ton of time together. How could he not know?”
Fidgeting and not meeting his gaze, she sighed. “I don’t know. We don’t talk much.”
Fuck this!“Are you embarrassed of me?”
He liked Greta. A lot. However, she wasn’t going to make him feel like shit because of his zip code.
Her gaze finally met his. The corners of her mouth were pulled into a frown. “No. I’m not. I avoided the topic of us dating because Father doesn’t approve of work flings. It’s easier not to mention us.”
There it was again. That word.Fling.
It wounded him to know his growing feelings were one-sided. The hurt stoked his irritability. “I’m nothing more than an itch you needed to scratch before going back to men born with silver spoons up their asses?”
“Didn’t you tell me you wanted to keep things simple?” She sounded both annoyed and apologetic. “My father knowing would be the opposite of simple.”
She was right. And he was being an asshole.
He ran a thumb along a split in the picnic table’s bench, working to release his anger. Once under control, he focused on her. “I’m sorry. I’m being a shit.”
He had no right to blame her because he was starting to feel more than lust, and she clearly didn’t. It stung, but he had to accept it.
Greta nodded, seeming to accept his apology. She scooted forward, pressing her soft lips against his. The sensation sent a buzz through his blood and burned away most of his frustration.
“I’ve missed you,” she said between kisses.
Her taste made him forget he was hungry. His body shifted to another sort of craving. “Mmm, this is what I wanted for lunch.” He deepened the kiss.
His stomach growled, sounding like a trapped bear.
Greta laughed and scooted back. “Your lips might be hungry for me. Your stomach would rather have a sandwich.”
“You taste better.”
She touched her pink cheeks with her palms. “You love making me blush, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
He took her hand, placing her fingertips in his mouth and biting gently. He ran his tongue along the tops of them. She stilled, sucking in a quick gasp of air and studied his lips. He reluctantly let go.
He loved heating her up. The Catch-22 was her arousal stoked his own, making his control slip. His arms itched to pull her onto his lap, have her flush against him and ply her with kisses and caresses. Even thinking about it made him hard, but Greta wanted to keep work and play separate.
“One of these days I’m going to find what makes you blush and use it without mercy,” she said.
“Good luck. Without a sense of modesty, what could make me blush?” he asked with complete confidence.
“Everyone has something. I’ll find it.” Her smile was full of challenge.
He loved this side of her.
Hell, what didn’t he like when it came to her?
He wolfed down the rest of his sandwich in a couple of bites. After wiping his mouth, he drew her closer, glancing at the office windows. The blinds were closed.
Good.
