Page 94 of Faking the Pass
She yanked up her sundress top, her cheeks flaming red.
“I know, but we have to stop before it goes farther. And we can’t do it again.”
And here I’d been thinking this wasallI wanted to do—again and again and again.
“Why not? Iwantyou.”
I gestured toward the front of my shorts, which were tented like a big-top circus. “I’ve been walking around with a near-permanent hard-on these past few days.”
Her breathing intensified, growing audible.
“And I’m pretty sure you want me, too,” I said. “Unless you’re trying to make me believe what just happened there was one-sided.”
“It… it isn’t in the contract,” she wheezed.
“Actually,” I said, “there’s no mention in the contract of kissing.”
“It says, ‘No Sex.’”
“Kissing isn’t sex.”
“Sometimes it is,” she argued. “The way you do it, it is.”
That made me smile and dip my head again, aiming for her mouth.
If she thought thekissingwas like sex, then the actual sex was gonna blow her mind.
Night after night I had lain awake, imagining all the ways I planned to make Rosie come.
She pushed hard against my abdomen.
“Move, Presley. I’m serious.”
Blowing out a breath, I followed her order, stepping back to allow her escape.
I expected her to run for the bedroom door and lock it, leaving me to spend the night on one of those pool deck chairs after all.
Instead she made a beeline for her carry-on bag hanging near the front door.
“Going somewhere?”
She darted a glance over at me as she dug through the bag. “I’m getting my notebook.”
My hand passed over my face, and I let out an exasperated laugh. I watched as Rosie carried the notebook to the counter, clicked her pen open, and began to write.
Stealing up behind her, I read over her shoulder.
-No kissing.
“Rosie.”
She jumped at hearing my voice so near and slid off the stool, skittering a few feet away from me.
“Don’t you think it’s time to tear up that ‘contract?’” I asked in a reasonable tone.
She looked wary. “Why would we do that?”
“Look at us,” I said. “We’ve been running around this place practically tied up in knots to keep from touching each other. It’s worse than being in high school again. The pheromones flying around are strong enough to strip the paint off the walls. Admit it—you want me as much as I want you.”
