Page 92 of Faking the Pass
I gave her an evil grin. “Very.”
Her face grew redder with each turn, and at one point she crossed her legs and sort of shivered.
Which woke the eternal optimist in my pants.
Was she turned on? More below the belt optimism followed that thought.
When it was my turn to ask a question, I slowed and deepened my voice and hung onto the sexy words for an extra beat.
“I’m creamy and delicious, you lick me till I’m spent… and I might leave you a bit sticky when I’m done.”
Rosie’s breath quickened as she stared at me, and her nipples hardened, clearly visible through the stretchy mini-dress she was wearing.
I wanted nothing more than to rip that little garment off and press my tongue against those nipples and pull her onto my lap where there would be no more polite-erection-ignoring going on.
“You keep looking at me like that, Rosie, and ‘clean fun’ isn’t gonna cut it much longer,” I warned.
“I… uh…” She didn’t finish the sentence.
Instead, she got up and speed-walked away. I jumped up to follow her.
“Where are you going?”
She practically ran into the powder room and slammed the door behind her. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
I knew she was lying. She was just hiding in there.
And that was fine. I could wait—I’d waited this long.
She took a really long time in there, but when she came out, I was outside the door, ready to pounce.
“You haven’t answered the question yet.”
Rosie was breathing rapidly, darting her eyes from side to side like a mouse cornered by a cat, trying to decide which way to make a break for it.
“I’m tired of playing now,” she said. “Anyway, I don’t know the answer.”
“I think you do.”
I moved closer, backing her up against the wall and leaning forward with my hand propped over her head.
“Take a guess,” I urged in a warm whisper.
Rosie’s voice was quaking when she responded, keeping her gaze trained on my chin instead of my eyes.
“Fine. Is it ice cream?”
“Good guess, but no,” I said.
She tried again. “A fudgesicle?”
I lowered my head, leaning in closer and skimming her jawline with my fingertips.
“That’s one possible answer. I can think of something else that would be creamy and delicious to lick, and I’ll bet it’s even sweeter than ice cream.”
Rosie’s eyes flickered up to meet mine. Her pupils were large, turning her eyes an even richer brown than usual.
For a long moment, she just stared up at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
