Page 95 of Worst Faking Idea

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“You want to watch me licking ice cream?”

An immediate wave of heat crashes into me. He was socareful with me the other day, sothorough. I’ll bet he’s a man who would give careful, thorough head. He’d make an art of it.

I clear my throat, then nod. “Yeah, I think I would.”

He surprises a laugh out of me when he steals the cone from my grasp and takes a lick.

“That was mine!”

“And now it’s ours.”

He hands it back, and I take a long lick, circling my tongue around it. I can feel the heat of his eyes on me and the tension coiling between us.

God, I want him. I’ve had lots of sleepless nights this week, thinking about him.

I hand it back, and he sets it down on the counter, so forcefully I hear the cone crack.

“There’s some on your lip,” he says, his voice hoarse.

I lean in closer, knowing I shouldn’t. “So help a girl out.”

He swears under his breath, then starts to remove his horn-rimmed glasses. I grasp his hand. “Leave them on. I like them.”

Surprise registers in his eyes. Seconds later, he’s leaning in and sucking on my bottom lip.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CORMAC

This is almost certainly a mistake.

I should be giving Nora the space and time to figure out what she wants.

But I don’t care about logic right now. All I care about is the sweet taste of her, and the way she moans into my mouth as I back her against the granite countertop, our mouths moving together. It’s only been a week since the first time we kissed, but it feels too long ago.

I lift her up onto the counter, my dick hard and throbbing. It’s been hard since the second I watched her lick that ice cream, her mischievous gaze locked on me like she was issuing a challenge.

She gasps but lets me guide her where I want her.

“Why don’t you eat your ice cream?” I get down on my knees in front of her. “I’ve decided there’s something else I’d rather lick.”

“You broke the cone,” she says with a sexy smile, already shimmying out of her silky underwear. Fuck.Fuck.It’s hard to believe she’s really here, that this is actually happening, but I want it so badly. I need it. I need her.

I skim my hands up her thighs, her skin smooth and inviting. “Would you like me to make you a new one?”

I spread her legs apart, and a gasp of pleasure escapes her. “Maybe later. You’re busy.”

“Not too busy for you.” Inspiration strikes, and I grab the cracked cone off the counter.

She watches me with parted lips. “What are you doing?”

“Would you mind if I try something?”

She angles her head. “I’ll agree to be your test subject for the night.”

For the night.

I’m disappointed it’s not an open-ended invitation, but it’ll have to do for now.