Page 33 of Crumbling Truth
Holy hell,I thought with an inward groan. I shifted subtly in my seat and dug into my cheesecake as a distraction.
“Holy hell,” I muttered aloud this time, shoving another hunk into my mouth. “Is there no end to your talent?”
She laughed. “I’m glad you like it. I wasn’t quite sure what to make.”
“This is phenomenal, so you picked a winner.”
The room settled into silence as we finished off the cheesecake, but I gestured for her to stay put while I put our plates in the sink. When I came back into the family room, Esther was just as I’d left her, aside from resting her head against the cushioned back of the couch. She smiled at me as I resumed my seat, but it faded quickly as her brow furrowed.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, grimacing. “I broke one of our only rules last night.”
“Actually, I wanted to ask you about something. An amendment to the rules. Or a couple of amendments, maybe.”
My eyes widened. “Anything. I feel like I owe you after last night.”
“You don’t owe me anything, so please don’t let that influence your answer. I need you to be honest.”
“Of course,” I agreed easily, leaning toward her.
“I think making our pasts off-limits might be a mistake. Not that I need you to spill all your secrets or anything, but I guess we probably shouldn’t tiptoe around the things that have affected us like that.”
I swallowed my immediate panicked reaction, forced myself to take a second, then nodded. “I think that’s fair.”
“Right, okay.”
“What else?”
She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I wondered if you might be interested in…not…fake dating.”
I blinked in confusion. “Meaning you don’t want to do this anymore?”
“No,” she protested quickly. “I mean I—I want more than just fake dates.”
Startled by a crashing wave of desire at her words, I stared for a moment before I could summon the powers of speech. “You want to actually date me?”
Though she flushed with embarrassment, she said, “No. I mean, sort of. We can keep up the fake dating, but I want more.”
There was that word again, stoking a fire in my chest. I studied her expression, traced the wash of pink coloring her cheeks as I wondered if she felt it too. “More?”
“I want you to sleep with me,” she said in a rush. “If you’re interested, I mean.”
“You…what?”
My brain tripped over a series of images—beautiful, glorious, tempting images of things I’d tried not to let myself think about. Esther in my bed, all bare skin and soft curves, that dark hair spilling across the pillows. Feeling her. Tasting her. Making her mine, even temporarily.
Every muscle of my body clenched in reaction.
“Nothing, forget it.” She jumped to her feet, but I caught her at the waist before she could run past me.
“No, it’s not nothing. Not even close to nothing. You want to add sex to the agenda, is that what you mean?” I searched her expression, afraid I’d find reluctance or trepidation, but she bit her lip against a shy, breathtaking smile.
“Yes,” she whispered.
My fingers flexed, pressing in against the softness of her hips. Every inch of my body perked up at the word, my pulse jumping into overdrive. It felt too good to be true, like there must be some hidden catch. The need to confirm what she wanted overwhelmed me.
“Esther.” Her name sounded like a prayer on my lips. “You want me to fuck you?”
The bald honesty of the words made her breath come faster, her pupils dilating until only a ring of silvery-green surrounded them. That tantalizing blush in her cheeks crept across her chest until it shadowed the neckline of her soft sweater.
