Page 52 of Making It While Faking It
“I’ll see you Monday?” he whispers. Then before I can answer, he kisses me one more time. His lips are still soft, and his tongue tenderly strokes mine.
“Um, okay.” Hayley’s voice comes through faintly as my head continues to spin from experiencing the best kiss of my entire life.
Top Rag Mag
BREAKING NEWS
We told you we’d keep you updated with any new news about Achilles Lord and Treasure Grove’s union. Well, sources say that the eldest—and, according to aTRMstaff table poll, the hottest—Lord brother spent all day at his fiancée’s restaurant. He even came out in the middle of a superstorm to personally board up the windows of her restaurant. Sources say that the two are definitely in love.
And we have photos!
See below.
The Engine Roars
TREASURE GROVE
I’ve been lying in bed, watchingTRM’s video of Achilles and Danny drilling nails into wood boards. I’m reading the comments section, which continues to expand every second.
A billionaire who will do backbreaking work for his woman has to be breaking backs in bed. Umm… he’s sexy.
From loser to winner. Buh-bye, Simon LAME!
You go girl!
A friend who has a friend, who has a friend, told me that they had sex in her office.
My jaw drops as I yank myself out of a bad posture. Holy shit, do we have a mole in our midst? I release a longing, lengthy sigh. Hayley knocked on my office door earlier today. Her pauses were seasoned with assumption. Is she the source of the leak? I think about Hayley, thin, barely five feet tall, with her dark hair unfashionably gathered into a ponytail at the back of her neck. She rarely smiles and is always ready to accept and carry out marching orders. There’s no way in the world the leak came from her. But to think that something that happened in my place of business should get back toTRM? That comment by someone named BetBeeDoll is quite troubling. I’ll have to look into it.
I relax against the headboard. I feel… I don’t know, lonely maybe. It’s only the first night, and I already miss Achilles’s presence.
Not good, Treasure.
He hasn’t even called to wish me a good night, which is a further sign that he’s not interested in carrying on a bona fide relationship with me. And why should he be? He’s a smart man. No matter what’s going on between us, I’m still connected to him by way of a contract. He has to keep his wits about him, and so do I.
I darken the screen of my phone and then close my eyes to search inwardly until I find the memory of that haunting kiss in my office. I see us. I feel it. His mouth on mine. His sensual way of tonguing.
“Damn it.” I open my eyes.
That little exercise didn’t work.
Realizing it’s best to just go to sleep and sort out my feelings for Achilles tomorrow, I stretch my arm to sit my cell phone on top of the nightstand, and that’s when it chimes. I quickly pull the device back to me to read the screen. With a gasp, I slap a hand over my chest. It’s a text message from Achilles.
Good night, TG
I laugh, knowing he’s referring to me as TG because Hercules sometimes calls Paisley PG. My fingers get to work fast, typing.
Good night, Mr. Lord
Not even five seconds pass before my phone chimes that it’s pregnant with a beautiful new message from Achilles.
Sleep well. I’ll call you tomorrow.
Shit. My eyes grow wide as I wonder how cool I should play it. I type.
Great. I’ll be counting the minutes.
I sit still, staring at my reply for a few beats. No… I shouldn’t say that. I sound too eager—too thirsty. Although, I am thirsty for him. When I returned home for work, I dug my old friend out of my drawer, fell on my bed, drew from memories of our time together, and made myself come over and over and over again.
