Page 63 of The Last Kiss

Deep down I know one day he will come to London and I will no longer live here. Tears prickle my eyes and I pull upright into sitting so he can’t see.

It seems so unfair.

“And if I fall in love with you?”

He reaches for my cheek and my whole chest empties: no air, no heartbeat, nothing.

“Don’t,” I whisper, but then plaster on a wide smile. “Right, let’s get some food. I’m famished.”

From the corner of my eye, I catch his critical glance over me. “You look like you haven’t eaten.”

“I have.”

“What did you last eat?”

“A Pot Noodle.”

“What is that?”

I explain and groaning, he throws back the covers and stretches his legs over the side of the bed. Have I mentioned his legs and just how mighty fine they are?

“It’s just as well I didn’t get on that train.”

“Is that so?”

He catches me up in his arms and tosses me over his shoulder, bare naked ass to the ceiling.

“It is very much so. Now what food do you have in the fridge?” He strides for the kitchen and I could stop him and tell him I don’t have any food in, but his beautiful dick is bouncing just in my line of sight and after all I am only human.

15

Lover

Liv: I’m expecting a teddy bear explanation. You know they couldn’t get it in the house right?

I giggle and show Henri my phone. Breakfast is brunch at a small Italian café he found five minutes away from my flat that I didn’t even know existed. He has a paper laid out, sipping an espresso.

I don’t need a paper because I’m staring at a masterpiece.

“I think the bear is going to put me in your sister’s bad books before we’ve even met.” He smirks a little sexy lip hitch. I want to tell him that if he just does that in her direction I’m pretty sure all will be forgiven.

“Don’t worry. I shall distract her by introducing you as my part-time continental fuck buddy and all will be fine.”

He shakes his head and refocuses on his paper and I refocus on him. There’s a slight smattering of dark hair that traces from his hands up to where his jumper is pushed up his forearm. It’s major arm porn.

Arm. Porn.

He’s here. Like really here.

In an orgasm giving, non-boyfriend capacity.

I smirk to myself as I catch sight of us both in an old-fashioned Peroni beer mirror. Yep, some girls get all the luck. My reflection shines back at me. There’s an almost forgotten pink stain on my cheeks, my dark hair is down, a shadow against my scarlet cardigan I have on. Henri found it most amusing when I’d put on my weekend Converse and only came up to his nipples. Those heels do serve a purpose after all. Considering he’d only seen me in my black work attire until now he seemed oddly satisfied with the change.

“So, tell me about this party.” He folds his paper carefully reminding me of the first time we met.

“Paige, she’s going to be four.” I wince. “I should warn you, she’s a little on the wild side.”

“How so?”