Insta-Hate, Hijinks & Happy Endings
Page 88
“I knew something was off!”
And I guess, after learning Jaz is also one of Tina’s fosters, I should have known he got family priority. I’m not mad anymore, but I am considering pushing him into the pool. I walk him backward, aligning him with the water, but Gio spins away and out of reach at the last second.
“Say you’re sorry.” I jump to flick his ear.
“I’m not sorry.”
He crouches away from my assault, but then our tussle flips and he wrangles me, winning the upper hand. Now I’m caged within his arms, my back against his front. He squeezes me so I can’t move.
Out of breath, I ask him over my shoulder, “If you’re not sorry, how can we be friends?”
“If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here with you now. Here’s another secret,” he whispers near my ear. “I like it.”
I try to hide my beaming smile.
“One day, hell kitten, I’ll make you fall for me. I promise you.” He spins me and catches the surprise on my face. “Now . . .” He plucks a leaf from my hair. “It’s your turn to confess. Time to tell me one of your precious secrets. Friend.”
33/
giovanni
Sinful Sophia
“I have a lot of lies, and I’m going to keep them.” Sophia makes a zipping motion across her sumptuous lips.
“You’re kidding.” I prop my hands on my hips.
“I had to steal your house somehow.” She dusts off my T-shirt.
“And you have nothing else to share?” I ask.
She pinches her lips and narrows her gaze as if she’s thinking very hard. “I changed my mind.” She steps back a few paces, but now she’s smiling. In fact, her good mood seems firmly back in place.
“That’s convenient. You weasel a big secret out of me, but you won’t budge? You don’t play fair.”
“Maybe I’m not ready to be friends,” she says.
Maybe I don’t want to be friends either. Maybe I want more.
“So, enemies, it is,” she says with a cheerful clap of her hands.
And goddamn, if her trickster smile doesn’t make every inch of my body vibrate. I’m headed down a rocky road with this woman. Right now, I’m praying there’s not a landslide or dead-end street.
How could I not try for more? Look at her.
She’s perfection, from her pretty glittery toenails to her sundress, from her beauty mark to her aggravatingly adorable yet stabby personality. And don’t get me started on her body. It’s lush and tempting, and I’m desperate to enjoy every piece of her, especially the spot where her ass cups her thigh. If she bends over, I might never leave her table because she is feeding me in every way.
“You’re going down, Sparkles,” I say, playing my part.
“You know what they say. Ladies first.” She winks, spins, and struts away, her ass swaying beneath the fabric of her dress.
As she does, the innuendo of her words hit me. She wants me to go down. First?
I hoot. This woman.
My hand cups the back of my neck, and I rub the tiny hairs standing on end. The offer to make her come stands. But now we’ve slipped from audio to tactile.
I shift where I stand, trying not to think too hard about the way she scrambles my brain, or how I want to strangle her and love her all at once.