Page 54 of Fake it With Me

I leaned in, giving her one last chance to pull away, but she met me halfway. Our lips touched, soft and tentative at first. It was like we were testing to see if we were going to be struck by lightning. When nothing happened, we both leaned in. She made a small sound in the back of her throat and everything changed.

19

LIZA

Darek’s lips were supple but eager at the same time. He tilted his head to get better access to my mouth. The gentle pressure turned harder and more demanding. I opened for him instinctively. I had wanted the kiss from the first moment I laid eyes on him at the coffee shop.

One of his hands slid from my cheek to my neck, fingers threading in my hair. The other came to rest at the small of my back, pulling our bodies flush. When my tongue brushed his, he groaned low. The sound rumbled straight through me until my knees actually buckled. I grabbed two fistfuls of his T-shirt to stay upright.

“Liza,” he whispered against my mouth.

He was asking me to tell him to stop. There was no way in hell I was going to do that. In for a penny, in for a pound. I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to. I was all in.

I tugged him harder, kissed him deeper, letting my need answer instead. There was a warm feeling that had spread through me. The man could kiss. Like really kiss. I was already wet and he had done nothing more than kiss me.

“I can’t stop,” he murmured against my lips.

“Good.”

And then we were moving. He was half-dragging, half-carrying me across the deck with our mouths never breaking.

We stumbled through a doorway into what had to be the master stateroom. I had a vague impression of luxury. Dark wood, soft lighting and a massive bed. I wasn’t paying attention to the décor. I was too busy trying to get closer to Darek, trying to eliminate every millimeter of space between us. I needed him naked. I had to feel his skin against my own.

He kicked the door shut behind us and spun me around, pressing my back against it. His mouth found mine again, hungry and urgent. I felt his hands slide down my sides, over my hips, gripping me like he was afraid I might disappear.

“Tell me you want this,” he said against my lips.

“I want this. God, I want this so much.”

That seemed to unleash something in him. His hands moved to the hem of my dress, bunching the fabric as he pulled it up and over my head in one smooth motion. I stood there in just my bra and underwear, suddenly aware of how exposed I was. I wasn’t even a little self-conscious. The desire pumping through my veins pushed all of that aside. And the way he was looking at me was intense.

“You’re perfect,” he breathed.

“Your turn.” I grabbed his shirt and yanked it over his head, finally getting to see what I’d been fantasizing about. And holy hell, the reality was even better than my imagination. Broad shoulders, defined chest, those corded forearms I’d admired extended up into biceps that made my mouth water. There was a light dusting of hair across his chest that trailed down to disappear beneath his waistband.

I ran my hands over his chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the rapid beat of his heart. He groaned and captured my mouth again, walking me backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed.

We fell onto it together, a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses. His weight pressed me into the mattress. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing more contact, more friction, more of everything.

His hand slid up my side to cup my breast through the lace of my bra. I arched into his touch. He took advantage of my open mouth to deepen the kiss, his tongue tangling with mine. Heat flooded my system. I felt warm and gooey and so fucking hot for the man.

“This has been driving me insane,” he murmured against my neck, his lips trailing down to my collarbone. “Watching you in my house, at dinner, in that fucking bathing suit—I’ve been losing my mind.”

“Good,” I managed to say. “I’ve been losing mine too.”

He reached behind me and unhooked my bra with a quick flick of his fingers. He tossed it aside. Then his mouth was on my breast, his tongue circling my nipple. I forgot how to form coherent thoughts. I tangled my fingers in his hair, holding him to me, drowning in sensation.

His other hand slid down my stomach to the waistband of my underwear. He paused, looking up at me with those storm-blue eyes.

“Yes,” I said before he could ask. “Please, yes.”

He hooked his fingers in the fabric and pulled them down my legs, leaving me completely bare beneath him. I should have felt vulnerable. Instead, I felt powerful. Wanted. Desired in a way I had never experienced before.

I reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in my eagerness. He helped me, unfastening it and shoving his pants and boxers down in one motion. Then there was nothing between us, just skin on skin, heat and need and this overwhelming sense of rightness.

And holy shit.

How was it possible for one man to be so gorgeous? Hard body. Large dick. How was the man single?