Page 88 of That Fake Feeling
Hedid slip into my bed onThursdaynight, though.Thatwas definitely a pleasant surprise.
Ireach behind and grab his backside. “Doyou come out here a lot?”
Heplants butterfly kisses up my neck and around the rim of my ear, sending goosebumps shivering down my side. “FirsttimeI’vebeen here since the weekend after renovations were finished.”
Itip my head back against his shoulder and press my fingers into his firm butt cheeks. “Yougot it only recently?”
“Nope.”Hisbreath tickles my skin. “Hadit two years.”
Ipull away and turn around to face him.
“Youhaven’t been here for two years?”Iwrap my arms around his neck. “What’swrong with you?”Iask with a laugh. “Ifthis were mine,I’dbe here every chanceIhad.”
Helooks over my head at the view, as if it’s the first time he’s seen it.
“Ibought it just as an investment.Itwas a bit of a wreck.Hadn’tbeen touched since the seventies.Thekitchen was all orange and brown.Andthe bathrooms were avocado.”
Icast my eyes over the open-plan room with its pale wood floors, cream rugs, and sage-colored low sofas, toward the long dining table, and across to the sparkly white kitchen at the other end.
“Youare quite the renovator, eh?Whatwith your house, your parents’ place, and now this.”
Heshrugs and kisses my forehead. “Iliked the creativity of taking something old and tired and turning it into something fresh and new.Butwhen it was finished, all the fun was gone.Ithrew a big party and haven’t been back since.”
“You’recrazy.”
“I’venever feltIcould come out here and enjoy it.Orwanted to.”Hepresses his lips lightly against mine. “Untilnow.”
Hehooks his hands under my butt, lifts me off the ground, carries me back across the room, and drops me on the sofa.
Ibounce on my back with a half giggle, half squeal. “Whatthe hell are you doing?!”
Heclimbs over me, a knee either side of my waist. “Maybewe should christen the place.”
Hepushes open the neck of my shirt, and leans down to plant gentle kisses along my collarbone.
Thisis all such a fantasy.
Anamazing, sensitive, beautiful man brushing his tantalizing lips over my skin asIdrag my hands up his arms, over his shoulders, and rake my fingers through his hair.
Mybody hums with desire for him.
Butfor a nanosecond, my brain shouts over it and gets my attention.
Thisisfast.
Afteryears without being intimate with anyone, years of refusing to let anyone close,I’vespent the last few days wanting nothing more than to be naked withConnor.
AndhereIam as he unbuttons my top, on the verge of having sex with him again.
Inless than a week,I’vegone from not being sure about him and not wanting a man in my life anyway to wanting him more thanI’veever wanted anything and coming away to his palatial beach house for a romantic weekend.
There’ssomething about him that makes me lose my mind.Andmy focus.It’sjust like in college whenIgave myself to someone completely and flushed my grades down the toilet.
I’velearned this lesson.Ican not let history repeat itself.
Thisis too fast.
Idon’t do things like this.
