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“Classy, John,” I cut in, flushing hot.
“And it was fucking perfect,” he lobs back. “The best feeling I’ve had in so long, I can’t remember anything better.”
My knees go weak, a breath leaving me in a soft, “Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh,’” he says dryly, his brows lowering over angry eyes. “And there I was thinking, finally. I finally got to taste and touch the girl I can’t stop thinking about, and then what happens? She and my well-meaning but pain-in-the-ass friends agree that she should be my fake girlfriend.”
He levels me with a look, and I realize this isn’t rage he’s been showing, it’s hurt. Instantly, I feel small and horrible. “Shit,” I whisper, staring up at him.
His mouth quirks bitterly, but he doesn’t say anything.
“John.” I swallow hard. “I’m sorry.”
I take a step toward him but he evades me, giving me his shoulder as he stares out at the city. “Forget it. It isn’t a big deal.”
“Yes, it fucking is.”
John whips around. “Yes, it fucking is,” he agrees, striding toward me.
Before I can move, he’s picking me up with shocking ease, his big hands cupping my butt. Automatically, my legs wrap around his waist, my hands grasping his shoulders. With two steps, he has me up against a wall, his long, firm body pressing against mine.
“Was it not real enough for you?” he says against my mouth, our lips barely brushing. My lids flutter. His breath is warm and scented with the wine he drank. “Did you not feel how much I wanted you?”
I feel it now, a hard, thick presence nudging my sex. My thighs clench, and he feels that too. A rough sound escapes him, and there’s no more talking. His kiss is swift, brutal, desperate, greedy. Our lips press against each other’s, shaping, nipping, sucking. His tongue is a smooth, slick glide over mine. A sweep and a plunge, deeper, stroking, taking. It ignites me, makes me groan and whimper, wanting more of it, of him.
John rocks against me as our mouths fuck, his hands gripping my ass tighter. And I’m light-headed yet too damn heavy with need that I feel weak. When he pulls away, my mouth chases his, my lips swollen and wet. But he ducks his head and sucks my neck, tugging at that sensitive skin.
“I don’t want fake, Stella.” His mouth touches the crest of my ear. “I don’t want to pay for it. I don’t want to pretend.”
My hands are in his silky, messy hair. My hips grind into that lovely hard cock of his. “You can have whatever you want.” I’m panting now, my nipples tight and sore. “Anything.”
John stills. The tip of his tongue flicks a spot on my neck that has me bucking. He presses a soft chaser kiss there before lifting his head. In the shadows, his eyes gleam. “Be with me. Let’s fall together, Button.”
Fall. Really fall. I can feel myself doing it, that swift plummet with nothing to hold onto. Nothing to save me. It’s scary as hell. From the look in John’s eyes, he knows it, fears it too. But he wants it anyway.
“You said you weren’t going to fall in love.”
His gaze moves over my face before meeting my eyes. “I walked out on you that night because I knew that if I could fall for anyone, it would be for you.” John rests his forehead against mine, and his lids lower. “I’ve never been in love. The idea of it scares the shit out of me, and I keep telling myself all the reasons we shouldn’t be together. But when I’m actually faced with walking away? After what we did on the couch? No.” He shakes his head. “Fuck no. I can’t do it. I want to try with you.”
I’m already over that ledge. “Okay.”
His body stiffens for a second, and then he smiles. It’s like the sun melting through ice, brilliant and hot and lighting me up. In that moment, he is incandescent, and I catch my breath. He steals it from me with a swift, deep kiss I feel in my toes. I whimper, opening my mouth for more.
John gives it to me, kissing and kissing like I’m his drug of choice. Then he pulls away with a pained groan. “Shit, you tempt me.”
“Good,” I pant against his neck, nuzzling there. “Take me to bed.”
He leans his cheek on mine, his body shuddering. “Can’t.”
My fingers drift down to his chest. God, he has a nice chest. Firm, defined. I want to lick it. “Tell your friends to go home and you can.”
John chuckles, and the vibrations tickle my oversensitive skin. “No, babe.” With a sigh, he takes a step back and carefully sets me on my feet. I’m wobbly and weak-kneed. But he holds onto my arms, giving me a smile that is part pure, satisfied male heat, and part pained regret. “We’re going to do this right. I’m going to woo you.”
