Page 81 of The Jerk in Apartment 1B

“You can use my stove. I don’t mind.”

“I’d share. Whatever I make, you could take half. Or maybe we could have dinner together.”

What’s going on with her? She invites herself over? Invites me to have dinner with her? Is she wanting this fake date to turn into something more? But she knows I don’t want that. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.

“So how do you feel after our fake date?” I ask. “Do you think you’re ready to get out there again?”

“No.” She laughs a little. “If I’d been out with someone else tonight, I would’ve been really nervous and stumbling on my words.”

“You should give yourself more credit. I think you’d do great.”

“Maybe. I’d probably do okay at dinner, but then the end of the date would come and I’d get really nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t kissed a guy in over four years. Well, a guy who wasn’t Asher.”

I set my water down. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just a kiss.”

“Yeah, but it’s different with someone new. You have to worry if you’re doing it right, or what they’re thinking and where it’s going to lead.”

“Or you could just relax and focus on how it feels.”

She walks up to me, gazing at me with those big brown eyes. “You know, if this was a date, we’d probably kiss.”

We’d do a lot more than kiss, but I’m trying not to think about that.

“We would,” I say as she steps closer. “But tonight wasn’t real.”

“You don’t think we should pretend that it is?” She puts her hand on my chest, her face tilted up, her beautiful lips right there, waiting for me.

I want to do it, but I shouldn’t. Not when I’m this worked up after being with her all night, seeing her in that dress.

What if we can’t stop at just a kiss? What if it leads to her dress coming off? And us going to the bedroom?

“Scott,” she says, gazing up at me. “This has been such a great night. Better than I ever expected. I know the date part wasn’t real, but could we maybe pretend that it is? Just for a little longer?”

She’s asking—begging—me to do this, and I can’t tell her no. I’m a strong guy, but every guy has a weakness, and Trina is mine. But we’re stopping after the kiss.

I wrap my arms around her tiny waist and tug her closer. Her lips part just slightly as her eyes soften, then gently close. I lean down and kiss her, my lips barely brushing hers. I feel her warm breath. I hear it speeding up. I kiss her again, a real kiss this time, my tongue slipping past her lips. She grabs the front of my shirt, gripping it in her hand like she has no intention of letting go.

So much for a simple kiss. I knew we couldn’t do it. We’ve been wanting to do this all night. There’s no way we were stopping after one kiss.

My hand goes to her shoulder, feeling those tiny straps on her dress, wanting to yank them loose. But instead, my hand slides down the silky fabric, stopping when I reach her breast. Her body stiffens at first, then relaxes as I touch her.

I slow down the kiss, my tongue moving lazily over hers as I cup her breast, my thumb circling over her nipple. Her knees weaken and I tighten my hold on her waist. My hand wanders lower, over the curve of her hip, then her backside. She sinks into me, her body molded against mine. I’m sure she can feel my cock—rock hard and pressing against her—but I don’t care. She shouldn’t be surprised. She saw how I looked at her tonight. I didn’t hide the fact that I was checking her out.

I reach the slit in her dress and slip my hand under it, sliding it up and down the outside of her thigh, then inward, until my hand is between her legs, stroking over the fabric of her panties. She breaks from the kiss, gasping for breath.

“Oh, God,” she whispers. “So good.”

Why did she have to say that? It only encourages me. And I should not be encouraged to keep doing this, knowing where it could lead.

Just a few more minutes. A few more, and then I’ll put an end to this. I’m not having sex with her. I don’t want her thinking that’s what tonight was about. She thinks I’m a guy who sleeps around, and while that might be somewhat true, I never intended to end this night with her in my bed. I wasn’t even going to kiss her.

“What are you doing?” she asks as I bunch her dress up to her waist.

“I don’t want to rip it.”

---