Page 79 of Over & Out

But what if we can?

I refuse to let myself think about that. This is just what it is. A bad idea. A one-off. The best sex I’ve ever had, and he hasn’t even taken his pants off yet.

What if I did show him all of me?

“That’s just it, Hopper. I’m afraid if you see all of me and you don’t run for the hills…well.”

“Well what?” He brushes hair off my cheek.

“I’m afraid I’ll be done for,” I whisper, my heart fluttering. I can’t believe I just confessed that.

He gives me his million-dollar grin. Like, literally, that grin can probably be quantified, and I bet it’s worth is higher than that.

“You mean you’d be like me.”

“You’re done for?” I ask, my stomach flipping now. All my organs are in turmoil.

“You read my bad poetry. I…I’m very into you, Chris.”

I shake my head. “Impossible.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“Because. We’ve only known each other a month.”

Something comes over his face. Something pained, but not regretful. “Sometimes, I feel like I’ve known you a lot longer than that,” he says.

My heart swells, because… “Sometimes I get that feeling too,” I say. Then I feel immediately foolish, because of course I do. He’s famous. I knew him as the Duke. And I knew of him before. He’s kind of a household name. For a minute I have another one of those out-of-body moments where I can’t believe this is actually happening. Me, on a bed, on a private plane, with Hopper Donnach. Who’s just given me the biggest orgasms of my life. Who just alluded to a future with me.

I try not to panic.

Hopper drags a hand up my bare leg. But his eyes are on me. I can feel them.

“Cherry,” Hopper says under his breath.

I meet his gaze. “What is with you and your random words?”

“Your cheeks. I’ve been studying all your shades for a while.”

I clap my hands over my cheeks as I feel them grow hot. I’ve always been so embarrassed by the way my feelings show up on my face. “It’s not fair,” I say. “I’m so transparent.”

“It’s beautiful.” Hopper’s voice sounds almost reverent. “I mean it. I think my favorite is English rose. It’s the color you turn when you’re just a little bit pissed off at me but not enough to clap back. Actually, I like crimson too. That’s when you do clap back. Tomato’s when you’re really exerting yourself?—”

I shove him sideways. “You need to stop talking!”

Hopper flops onto his back, laughing.

“You know the best way to get me to stop talking?” he says.

“Dare I ask, Duke?”

He waggles his eyebrows. “Perhaps,” he says in theDuke’s lilting accent, “my lady would like to mount my mustache. It’s a fine steed.”

At that, I burst out laughing. “You didnotjust offer me a mustache ride.”

Hopper grips me by the hips and actually lifts me off the bed. I have no idea how, since he’s also lying horizontally. But one moment I’m beside him, and the next, I’m straddling his hips.

“I did,” Hopper says, beckoning me upward with his hands. He mocks doing mouth exercises, and I can hardly breathe, I’m laughing so hard.

---