Page 50 of Fake It For Love (Faux Love)
“You weren’t tempted to kick his ass?” I asked.
He grinned. “I was so tempted. I held back because I knew I would win. I always win.”
I rolled my eyes. “So humble.”
“I’m only stating the facts. It’s always the drunkest, cockiest dude that starts shit.”
“I believe we call it Toxic Man Syndrome,” I said.
“You’re not wrong,” he groaned. “It’s annoying. I assumed it would get better as I got older.”
“I think it’s admirable that you don’t fight,” I said. “It says a lot about your character.”
“Thanks. I don’t enjoy hurting people. There is no joy in that.”
That was good to know. It was just another piece of the puzzle that was Ryan Jones. I was really regretting not getting to know him better when we were younger. I wondered if we could have been together. In a real way. Not pretend. What would our lives have been if I gave him thirty minutes of my time back then? If I wouldn’t have turned my nose up to the guy because he was a little different, I might have had a very different life.
The cab pulled to a stop in front of the resort. We climbed out and walked inside without touching. The kiss on the dance floor had left me wanting more. I knew I couldn’t have more, but I still wanted it. I craved the taste of him. “My room is down this way,” I said.
“I’ll walk you.”
We got to the door of my room. I didn’t immediately unlock it. I didn’t want to go in. The night was still young. “Tonight was fun,” I said.
“It was. I didn’t think I would have a good time, but I did. That’s got to be a first.”
“Dancing wasn’t so bad, huh?” I teased.
His eyes dropped to my mouth. “Not bad at all.”
I stared at him and waited for him to look at me. When he did, I silently asked him for what I’d been craving since we stopped on the dance floor. His eyes dropped again, and I knew he was going to kiss me. I found myself holding my breath. The moment his lips touched mine, I released the breath and sighed into his mouth.
One hand slid up the back of my neck and held me in place while he kissed me. I gripped his strong arms and tried to pull myself closer to him. His tongue lashed against mine. The kiss on the dance floor had been sultry and dangerous. This kiss was full of heat and need. It wasn’t to show off for anyone. No one was watching. We weren’t selling a story. This was just us.
His hand slid up my side with his thumb brushing over my breast. I groaned and pushed myself against him. He deepened the kiss. I took advantage of the moment and reached out to touch his chest. I’d wanted to touch him since I first saw him. His muscles flexed under my touch. I dug my fingertips into his chest before sliding down over his hard abs.
“Let me open the door,” I murmured.
His mouth dropped to my neck. I leaned my head back to give him better access. His tongue slid over my jaw and back to my neck. His teeth teased at my flesh before sucking it into his mouth. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the key. “Wait, wait, wait,” I whispered.
I managed to turn around and face the door. He stepped behind me and pushed himself against me. His body was hard and hot. He lifted and moved my hair to the side before kissing the back of my neck. My fingers fumbled with the key card. “You smell so good,” he breathed against my ear.
The whispered words sent shivers racing down my spine. I leaned my head back against his shoulder. His hands slid up my front and cupped my breasts. I had to get the door opened or we were going to end up fucking in the hall of a very busy resort. I got the card key in and, on my third try, managed to get the door open.
He followed me in with his body still pressed against mine. I turned around to face him. He grabbed my face with his hands and kissed me with a hunger I had never experienced before. My hands ran over his body. I wanted him naked. I wanted me naked. His hands were everywhere at once. His tongue was wild and hungry as it plunged deep into my mouth. I grabbed at his shirt and tried to pull it away. His hand slipped under my shirt and tugged at my breasts. A cry escaped my lips.
“Oh shit,” he said and stepped back.
My eyes opened. I stared at him with confusion. And hurt. And finally embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? Why are you sorry?”
“We can’t do this,” he said.
I very much disagreed. It seemed like we could do it just fine. But I understood what he was saying. We couldn’t do this. We were very different. He was the rich, hot guy and I was me. I didn’t get hot guys like him.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to.”
