Page 64 of Fault Line

“Speaking of, you finally feeling better?”

“Yeah.” She hesitates for a long moment, clears her throat, glances to a blank spot on the wall behind me, then, “Thank you again for all your help.”

“I know it must’ve hurt you to say that.”

She chuckles, something soft and sweet. “It really did.”

“You know, I wouldn’t have been so tied up if it weren’t for Harper keeping me late again. She’s been doing it all season.”

“Ah.”

I narrow my eyes in suspicion. “Do you happen to know anything about that?”

She winces, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. “What makes you ask?”

“Kaia,” I say, my voice stern. “I need to know.”

“Okay, okay,” she says, holding up her hands in surrender. “It was Elio. He may have asked Harper to go hard on you.”

“I fucking knew it.”

“She’s such a sweet person, though. I’m sure she was just exaggerating the sessions the tiniest little bit. Don’t blame it all on her.”

Honestly, it’s not the biggest deal in the world. She gave me the help I needed and caused me a minor annoyance along the way. I’ll survive, but I still want to make Kaia squirm a little.

“No, I don’t,” I say, voice dropping low. “I blame it on you.”

“But it wasn’t even my idea. If you’re gonna blame anyone, blame Elio.”

“He was acting on your behalf, I’m sure.” I squeeze her knee again, slowly working my way up her thigh. “You love to sabotage me.”

Her eyes narrow. “Didn’t we just agree that was an accident?”

“Today, maybe, but what about all the times before that?”

“Statute of limitations.”

“I don’t think so.” The corner of my mouth curls. “I think you still deserve to be punished.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, gulping low in her throat.

Without another word, she pushes up from the couch, bolting down the hallway. It’s difficult not to smile as I watch her run, her poorly concealed laughter echoing around the apartment.

I easily catch up to her in the bedroom, tackling her onto the bed and pinning her to the mattress, shoving both hands above her head. “You’re not getting away that easily,” I say, grinning down at her.

“Please, no,” she says, still laughing. This time, it’s full, unbridled, a small symphony of giggles that escape her until she’s pink in the face. “I’m too fragile for your punishment.”

“You asked for it.” I lean down to kiss her neck, nuzzling my nose into the crook and nipping at her soft skin.

She arches into me, and I release her hands. She tangles them into my hair as I kiss my way across her face. The taste of her is like honey on my lips, sweet and addictive. Heat radiates off her in waves, and it only ignites the flames burning within me.

I need her, need this, need us.

I tug at her shirt, desperate to feel her bare skin against mine, and she eagerly complies, shedding it off in one swift movement. She’s beautiful, always has been, with curves in all my favorite places.

I kiss my way down her chest, reveling in the softness of her skin, the scent of her lavender bodywash. My hands wander down to her hips, pulling her closer to me. She moans softly, fingers digging into my shoulders as we slowly work the rest of our clothing off.

I take my time exploring her body this time, trailing kisses down the curve of her waist, over the swell of her hips, and back up again. She arches into me, a sweet sound escaping her as my tongue flicks against her nipple.

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