Page 154 of Champagne Fizz

“It’s all true,” I say, hooking her by the neck and reeling her in. My hands thread through her hair, and I kiss her deeply, tasting the hot tang of me on her lips.

When she pulls back there’s an inquisitive and teasing gleam in her eye. “It’s all true, huh?” she asks. “Does that include before? You know, when you said the L-word before I dropped to my knees and made you praise the lord?”

“Geez, Kendall,” I squirm, half-joking and half trying to figure out if she’s serious. But what can I do—I want to be all in with this girl. “Yes,” I admit. “Yes, I dropped the L-word. And yes, after that display,” I point to where she knelt, “I definitelylovethe way your mouth feels around my—”

“Oh my gosh!” Kendall squirms, pinching me playfully. I wrap my arms around her, and I don’t let her go. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”

“Oh, okay,” I play. “Let me clarify. Ilovethe way your skin turns hot pink when you orgasm.”

“Liar!”

“That’s one-hundred-percent the truth.” I squeeze her tighter. “And Ilovethe crinkle in your forehead when you’re pissed at me.”

“I’m pissed at you a lot.”

“Mmmmm.” I nod in agreement, kissing between her eyebrows where that crease likes to show up. “And Ilovethat you wear bright yellow like you’ve got a personal competition with the sun.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Oh no, Sunshine,” I protest, clamping her tight with one arm and using the other to catch her chin and tilt her face up to me. “Don’t you understand, that’s exactly what dropping the L-word means. It means Iloveeverything about you.” Her face gets serious, and suddenly I’m the one smiling. “I even love your cheesy business name, and your obsession with Sue Blade, and—”

“Why does it sound like you’re insulting me?” She frowns, that crinkle showing up between her eyebrows.

“There’s that adorable crinkle,” I point out, before kissing her on the lips. “By the way,” I say against her mouth, “it’s not easy to tell someone you love them, so cut a guy a little slack. Insulting Sue Blade is my defense mechanism, okay? It’s my way of saying I feel vulnerable and terrified of how you’re going to react.”

“I think you already know how I’m going to react,” she says with a blush coloring her cheeks. I narrow my eyes as she gives me a sexy once-over like she’s mentally undressing me.

I mock gasp. “Are you saying you reward male vulnerability with blow jobs? Kendall!” I fan my face. “You realize I’m going to tell you I love you all the time if you’re serious about that.”

“No …” she teases, playing coy. “It’s the sexy accountant glasses that do me in.” She runs a finger against my frames. “I can’t resist them.”

“You’ve got a hard-core Clark Kent fetish, Hart,” I chide.

“Are you complaining?”

“Well, I was considering laser-eye surgery,” I shrug, “but if my bad eye-sight is going to get me laid all the time …”

“Blow jobs,” Kendall corrects.

“Semantics,” I reply. “And eventually, wearegoing to get to the real thing.”

“Does this make me your girlfriend?”

“If girlfriend means I get blow jobs all the time, then yes, we can put a label on this.”

“And if it doesn’t mean blow jobs all the time?” she teases.

“Don’t try to pin a guy down,” I sass. “I need to be a free bird.”

“A free bird wholovesme,” she says, smiling like this is a game she’s going to win.

“I mean, yes,” I say, pretending to be annoyed, and pulling her close again. “If you want to wave my heart around like that. I guess, I’d actually like you to be my girlfriend for more than just blow jobs.”

“How chivalrous.”

“Well, I also like watching you orgasm.”

She rolls her eyes and tries to push away, but I won’t let her go.