Page 46 of Fake Dating My Billionaire Boss

“Not without… There’s something I want to—” He steps out of the shadow of his car and walks toward me. “...And if I don’t, I’ll go inside and lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling and kick myself for not…”

“What are you talking about?” I ask as he walks right up to me.

The toes of his expensive loafers almost touch the pointy tips of my high heels. I catch a subtle whiff of his cologne. When he breathes in, his chest rises.

I feel my breath hitch. “What are you doing?” I whisper.

He reaches out and gently touches my elbow. Then his hand moves up the bare flesh of my arm. His fingertips are warm and delightfully soft.

“This,” he says, as his hand reaches my chin. His thumb grazes my jawline, and a shiver of pleasure courses through me.

His voice is a deep, resonant whisper that makes my knees go wobbly. “If I don’t do this, I’ll never forgive myself.”

His fingertips rest just below my ear. His hand is warm and strong. With his thumb, he tilts my chin up, so that I can’t help but look into his eyes.

I’m consumed by those dark, chocolate-brown irises. He searches my eyes before delving down and fusing his lips to mine.

As we kiss, I’m aware of two things.

One: This is not pretend.

Two: I don’t want this night to end.

Before I know it, my arms are wrapped around his neck. Our kiss is hungry and deep and needy. We’re both breathless when we part.

His tie is crooked. His chest rises and falls erratically.

I’m sure mine’s doing the same. My heart’s doing a tap dance number in my chest.

If I could just catch my breath, I could maybe process what just happened.

Figure out what it means.

Then again, I’ve done a lot of thinking this evening. Scheming, plotting, and processing. I’m not sure I can handle more of it.

And besides, it won’t lead me to any pleasant conclusions. I’m sure of that. I’d only remember that Damian is off-limits. I’d have to think about my very not-abstract painting in the works, and that’d be a real downer.

I don’t want to feel down.

I want to enjoy the warm afterglow of that kiss.

I want to catch my breath so that I can wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again.

I want to relax, let my guard down, and let go of the need to brace against a future that will surely include a crash-and-burn ending to whateverthisis.

Somewhere behind us, inside the house, Bo barks. It’s easy to decipher the muffled sound. He heard the car pull up, and he’s yipping out his greeting.

“I better take him out,” I say.

Damian’s shoulders fall. “Right. Of course.”

“He likes the woods, but it’s so dark out. Any chance you want to come for night-outs with us? We don’t go far. Only until Bo does his business… Then maybe we could rummage up a snack and hang out for a while. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” His posture perks up.

He chuckles, runs a hand through his hair, and then looks at me like I’ve uttered something brilliant and charming, and not at all related to doggy do-do. “I’d like that. I really would.”

“How about this: I’ll meet you out here in a few minutes. If you could bring a flashlight that’d be sweet. I never needed one in the city. Streetlights did the trick.”

“I think I can manage that.”

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