Page 35 of His Fake Fiancé

“What? This?” He did it again, making sure to pull down on her hips so the contact was deep and complete.

She sucked in a quick breath. “I’m serious, Jake.” It would have been a whole lot more convincing if there hadn’t been an underlying need threaded through the words. And maybe if she’d made an effort to actually get off of him. But she’d spent far too many nights dreaming about a moment like this to let it go quite so easily.

“What are you afraid of?” He stared up at her, seeming to see right through her excuses.

“I’m not afraid.” Again, it would have been more convincing if it hadn’t been a croaky mess. She was really going to have to work on her poker face.

“Then why do you want to stop?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she didn’t want to stop, but she swallowed the confession back. Because this wasn’t really about what she wanted or didn’t want. It was about practicality. About being smart. About protecting herself.

And she was definitely not telling him that.

She needed to keep it to the facts. “One, because you’re drunk—”

“I’m not drunk.”

”—and two, because this is a monumentally bad idea.”

“But how can something that feels so good be bad?” As if to prove his point, he rubbed against her again, lifting his head to press a kiss to her chest, right where the v-neck of her shirt left the skin exposed.

Her eyes fluttered closed, his lips on her sensitive skin overwhelming all her common sense. Hell, everything about him overwhelmed her completely. And always had. But she needed to remember that most big decisions came with consequences.

As if right on cue, a wail sounded from Olivia.

It was like an ice cube sliding down her spine. She pushed herself up and off of Jake. What the hell had she been thinking? Making out with Jake like a horny teenager?

He sat up at a more leisurely pace, holding onto his side. His gaze traveled from the top of her head down to her feet and back again. He was all disheveled and sexy. Bastard.

“What happened? Why are you holding your side like that?” Her voice came out somewhat normal, so that was good.

“I took a wallop while sparring.” He ran his hand though his hair, but it did nothing but make him look even more deliciously disheveled.

“Sparring?”

“Yeah, I was kickboxing at the gym tonight, and I caught one in the side.”

“Kickboxing?” Why was she repeating what he said as a question every time? And why was the picture of a shirtless Jake kickboxing, his sweaty muscles bunching and flexing while he moved through a routine, now branded in her brain?

“Yeah, I do it sometimes to blow off steam. There’s a place in town. You should come with me sometime. It’s fun.” He pulled the side of his shirt up to look at his side.

Claire’s mouth dried at the sight of all that sculpted skin on display. Jake had always been fit, but clearly since last summer—when she’d last seen him shirtless in the pool—he’d been working out. A lot.

His six pack was keel-over-in-a-swoon beautiful. All taut muscle and tight lines. Her fingers tingled with the need to reach out and trace those lines. She curled her hands into fists to stop from giving in.

There was a shadow of a bruise just under his ribcage. Her side ached just looking at it. He was probably not going to be able to move tomorrow. She couldn’t stop staring.

“Claire?”

She tore her gaze away from his abs and glanced up at his face. He was watching her, an eyebrow cocked, his lips tilted up in a cheeky grin. She ran her tongue along her lower lip. He watched the swipe of her tongue and his eyelids drooped. Before she could blink, he pushed to his feet and whisked the shirt off over his head.

Holy hotness, Batman.

He stepped toward her, and even though her brain was flashing danger, she couldn’t move. He stopped in front of her, not touching, but close enough she could feel the heat from his body. She wanted to lean forward and soak it in. Forget her annoyance and her reservations and her reasons why it was a bad idea, and finally be selfish, take something for herself.

Olivia gave another yell and he glanced over her shoulder, toward the hallway.

The distraction snapped her back to her senses. What was she thinking? This was such treacherous ground it should come with a Keep Out sign. So that’s exactly what she was going to do. She took a step back. “Good night, Jake.” She was disappointed at how breathy her voice sounded, but there was nothing to be done about it. She turned around and headed toward her bedroom.