Page 76 of The Great Dating Fake Off
I’m ready, all right.
We step into the night as rain pummels the ground. Maybe Mother Earth wanted to offer me a cold shower so I could think this through.
But I’m not interested in thinking. I want Sebastian’s commanding hands back on me, guiding my legs apart. Even if it’s just once, even if we know our days are numbered, I want one reckless night where tomorrow or goodbye just don’t matter.
The roof juts out just enough to shield us, but the path back to the main resort is uncovered.
Sebastian slaps his back, his voice a roar in the rain. “Hop on.”
“What? No, that’s okay. I’ll slow you down.”
“Would you rather get your boots wet in that giant puddle?” Without waiting for my answer, he guides my arms over his shoulder and squats, leaving me no choice. I launch myself onto his back and wrap my legs around his waist.
He takes off in a jog as I hug his warm body with all I’ve got.
The cold deluge slaps me in the face, and I can do nothing but bury my face in the cradle of his neck. I shriek into his skin as he picks up the pace, his steps quick and powerful as he tackles the incline past the courts, his shoes splashing water everywhere. I want to joke that my boots are still getting wet with the downpour, but instead I nibble his neck, because who cares about clothes or rain or anything else when Sebastian Rossi is the chauffeur of your mortal coil? Who cares when he’s so solid and alive in my arms?
He holds my legs to his stomach with one strong arm, but I tighten them to get a better hold. I am adrenaline and need funneled into a body, clinging to him like he might wash out with the storm if I loosen my grip.
The closer we get to the main resort, the more I feel him tense. He deposits me a ways off from the door.
“My room,” he yells. “You take the elevator. I’ll take the stairs.”
I let myself into the lobby as he disappears, presumably to use a side entrance. We can’t be too careful in this place.
My concern proves to be founded the minute I hit thelobby. There are people milling about; none I overtly recognize, but enough that I come back into my anxious brain with a rough landing.I dip into the bathroom just long enough to grab a paper towel to wipe off my glasses.
Dripping wet, I race for the elevator.
Please, no more people. I send up the silent plea as I press the button for our floor. My breathing regulates slightly when the doors shut, trapping me alone in the metal box.
When I step off on our floor, it is blissfully empty.
Sebastian blasts through the door at the other end of the hall, his shirt clinging to his body and his waterlogged jeans a shade darker than they were. My heart is a thunderous stampede in my ears as we move toward his door, each step on the carpet charging my body with electricity. I’m prepared to swerve if needed, to zigzag back to my room and hide away should anyone materialize, but I can’t fathom waiting any stretch of time to get my hands back on him.
He gets to his door first, eyes still on me as he lifts his key card to the reader.
With one last look over his shoulder, he guides me inside with a hand on my hip. The door latches shut behind us, cloaking us in darkness. We fumble for each other. The only light in the room comes from bursts of lightning outside his window and the lamp on his end table.
His hands cup my face as his mouth eviscerates mine in a brutally hot kiss.
Our tongues tangle as he struggles to get words out. “I’m glad you’re here.”
His words slide into my mouth, down my throat, lodging in my heart.It is so hard not to get ideas about what it could all mean.
Calm down, feelings monster.
My hands seek something to hold on to, settling on his arms. “I like these.”
“Yeah? I like these”—he tugs my lip with his teeth—“and these”—he cups my breast outside my clothes, sending a firebolt of need through my body—“these…” His thumb brushes the skin right next to the corner of my eye, where my smile lines will etch deeper if he keeps talking like this. “You have intoxicating eyes.”
My heart stutters. Mercy, he’s good. He’s so good it scares me.
“And these really do it for me, too.” He taps the rim of my glasses. “You have no fucking idea.”
The sweetness gives way to something headier as he pulls back and looks me up and down. A grunt of appreciation rumbles from the depths of his throat. “Let’s get out of these wet clothes.”
He slides the straps over my shoulders. The romper falls in a heap at my feet with very little coaxing, leaving me in my skimpiest red underwear set.I wrestle his wet shirt over his head.The air changes between us as I move to his jeans.
