Page 32 of My Fearless Fake Fling

Nine:

I swallowed. Hard. What else could I do? Len’s gorgeous stare enraptured the strongest of women on the best of days. So when he caught you with that next-levellook, all heated and lustful—no can defend.

And what he pinned me with right now definitely constitutedthe lookif ever I saw it.

“Your,um, food’s going to get cold.” As lame as it sounded, that was the best I could come up with. Hey, I challenge anybody to speak beautiful, thought-provoking prose in the face of Len’slook.

“Put your plate down, Kam.”

Uh… what?

When I didn’t react, he repeated himself. “Put the plate down, Kam.”

No. I could not put the plate down. The plate remained my only barrier between Len and deliciously bad decisions.

He rose to his knees, his empty plate spilling onto the blanket, and crawled over to me, placing my full plate on top of the pizza box. Then with his arms wrapped around me, he lowered my back to the blanket, his lips hitting mine at the same time my back hit the ground.

Those angels singing in chorus and trumpets sounding from this morning were joined by Satan’s low country, Cajun jazz band out here in the wide open. Even if he—Len, not Satan—hadn’t started removing any pieces of clothing yet.

I swore my possessed legs opened to allow his hips to fall between them completely of their own accord. Or Satan’s. I was not the get-it-on-in-public type of girl.

Len pulled his lips away. “No one can see you from here, not with the dark descending. The tree, shadows, and the way the light hits the back building, we’re covered.” He bent in to kiss me again. “But I won’t ask you to go further than you’re comfortable with.”

With my rational mind visiting the Grand Canyon or maybe the Baja Peninsula of Mexico, I found right then, being in Len’s arms, that I was comfortable with a whole lot I wouldn’t normally have been.

It’s safe to say things got a little heated, and Len was more than happy to remove some of my clothing to help cool me off. Though, through the magic of his lips, the opposite occurred and I got even hotter.Heactually stopped us before it went too, too far. And once I regained my senses, I was actually pretty glad of it.

As he’d removed a bit more clothing from me than I had him, while I put myself back together, he loaded up his plate with Napoli’s wonderful dinner. Then, sitting by the pond on a beautiful summer night, I ate the best cold pizza, no-longer-soft breadsticks, and soggy salad of my life.

When the breeze started blowing in, chilling my arms faster than I was able to rub the cool away, we packed up our trash and rolled up the blanket. Then, with my head resting on his shoulder, Len and I strolled back to his condo.

He let us inside, dumping the boxes in the trashcan by the back door. “Why don’t you get ready for bed while I close things down? Just wear the T-shirt you wore last night.”

It was only a few minutes later that he walked into the bedroom, pulled a clean pair of sleep pants from a dresser drawer, dropped trou to pull them on, and belly-flopped onto the bed, causing us both to bounce. Then he got silly, handsy-touchy as he situated himself under the covers next to me.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re so much better than a body pillow?” he asked as he draped a leg over my leg and an arm over my arm, essentially trapping me underneath him. And I had to admit, even if only to myself, thathewas the better pillow.

He pecked my cheek, then whispered, “Night, baby.”

I might have possibly sighed and closed my eyes to try and sleep. Ah, Lennon… jumper out of airplanes, maker-upper of lyrics to Bon Jovi music crooner, and best fake boyfriend possibly ever.

The next morning my eyes blinked open to see Len staring at me, big, cheesy smile smiling down on me.

“What’s with the grin?” I asked instead of granting him agood morning.

“Nothing… well, no, it’s something. I think we should take the day off. Go out, have some fun.”

“Haven’t we been having fun?”

“Yes, but our fun had a purpose. And everyone knows too much fun with a purpose quickly turns to fun-work. We’re shooting for fun-fun today.”

I pushed up to sitting. “Everyone knows, eh?”

“Everyone,” he agreed.

But we had a problem. I lacked the proper leaving the house attire. As in, I’d been wearing the same pants for a few days now. “I need clean clothes. Those jeans could get up and walk on their own. No legs required.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I asked your boss, Dion, to stop by your place and pack a bag, while you were in the back finding the box to pack your stuff in. The idea hit when he said he’d water your plants. I figured he had a spare key.”

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