Page 62 of The Princess and the Paparazzi
“I’m totally serious,” Noah says. “This isn’t the time or the place. For one, we’re in public, on display for all the world to watch. Which means we can’t take our clothes off. And I’d want to take your clothes off. I’d want to rip them off. But not here.”
“I mean, there’s nobody watching. The houses are pretty spread out. We wouldn’t have to take everything off,” I cajole, running my fingers through his soft, fine hair.
“No,” Noah insists. “Someone might be driving by, and I’d have to rip the throat out of anyone else who dared to look at you naked.”
I swallow. Hard. This is doing nothing to cool me down.
“What’s the second reason?” I ask.
“My mom is stopping by in a bit for dinner.” He attempts to lift me off him, but I cling with my thighs. He gives me the stern teacher look again. “Come on, I don’t think she signed up for dinner and a show.”
“Comeon? You’re killing me, Noah.” I grab a fistful of his shirt and continue grinding against him.
“No means no!” Noah snatches a handful of my hair with one hand, and wraps his other arm around my backside. Then he stands up, bad leg and all.
“And I’m saying no, Kenna.”
Kenna.
He calls me Kenna, just before turning around and dropping me back on my ass on the swing.
His words hit me like a bucket of ice water. He means it. This is not happening. Not just because he doesn’t want to do it. I don’t want to anymore, either.
The ridiculousness of this folly kicks me in my overactive crotch. What the hell was I thinking? That I’d just sleep with this guy, and then what? That I’d swap back with the real Kenna and say,“Don’t mind the dude sliding into your DMs, Kenna. You’re welcome. I went out and caught a good one for you.”
The thought of it makes me pulsate with toxic jealousy. I feel it in every extremity. It’s pooling in my groin. If I can’t have him, nobody can! The hell with all of this.
I jump up, shoving the campaign document back into my bag. Then I take it out again and toss it onto the table.
If I leave it, I’ll never get to read how it ends. Shit. I shove it back in the bag.
“Well, thanks for the wine and cheese. I guess I’ll leave you to it now.”
“Hang on.” Noah takes a tentative step toward his chair, pulls it out, and sits back down again. He runs his hands through his hair and smooths the map he was just working on, weighing down a corner with his phone before looking up. “Don’t go yet? I just had an idea.”
“An idea?” I freeze, desperately wanting to stay, but also wanting to go before I humiliate myself further.
Noah drums his fingers, seems to consider something, then takes a deep breath. He holds my eyes with his magical, melty gaze.
“Okay, here goes,” he says. “It’s kind of last minute, but would you be interested in attending my nextDNDsession?”
“Possibly,” I say, thinking that he’ll tell me the session isn’t till the following week, by which time Kenna and I will have switched back.
“Do you have plans this Sunday?”
“No,” I say. I’m loving where this is going. And hating it.
“How would you like to be a part of my current adventure?”
“Really?”Oh shit. I would like that. I would like that a LOT.Like if there was only one thing I could wish for, this might be it.
“There’s just one catch, and it’s a really, really important one.”
“Okay,” I say. If he needs snacks, I’ll bring them. Fog machine? No problem. Hell, I’ll rent a venue if he needs it. “What is it?”
“You can’t tell anyone. You can’t blow my cover.”
“Pardon?” I ask.
