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One Week Girlfriend(22)

By:Monica Murphy


But am I gutsy enough to ask for it?



Drew



She’s hesitant and I don’t know why. Anticipation pours through my veins as I wait for her reply. I’m not sure what’s gotten into me, but it seems to have gotten into her too, and we’re flirting with each other. For real and not because we have to, but because we want to.

It helps to ease the tension that’s emanating from the front seat. I have no idea what those two are fighting about, but I’m not going to let them get me down. I have a gorgeous girl sitting next to me in the dark, in the back seat of a car, wearing the sexiest dress I’ve ever seen. It covers practically her entire front but molds to her curves and the skirt is so damn short, it wouldn’t take much for me to sneak my hand under there and touch her.

But it’s the back of the dress that gets me, makes me want to peel her out of it and see Fable in all her naked glory. That low cut vee and how it dips to the middle of her back, the way it exposes all of that smooth, silky skin, the delicate lace laying against her flesh. Shit, I’m a goner every time I look at her. My fingers literally itch to touch her there.

Touch her everywhere.

“I want you to kiss me,” she finally says, her voice so soft, I almost can’t hear her. In fact, I’m wondering for the craziest moment if I’m hallucinating because no way in hell did she just ask me to kiss her.

Shooting a glance toward the front seat, I notice they’re not paying us any mind. The satellite radio is going, playing some smooth jazz shit and they’re talking to each other in low, dark murmurs. They both sound pissed with each other and I wonder if any of this involves me.

Right now, I don’t care. I should never care. What they fight about isn’t my problem.

“Drew.” Her soft voice draws me back and I look at Fable, find myself lost in her green eyes. “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, swallowing hard. Fuck, my parents are right there. Adele only has to turn her head about two inches and she’s looking right at us. She won’t like it if I kiss Fable in front of her. She might even flip out. I don’t know if I want to take that risk.

Don’t be a pussy, man. Kiss her, asshole. KISS HER!

Leaning over the center console, I reach out, drift my fingers across Fable’s cheek. Her skin is so soft and she closes her eyes, her lips parting. Her tongue sneaks out and she licks her upper lip. Just like that, I’m sporting a hard on and without thought I settle my mouth on hers. Once. Softly, as light as a butterfly’s wings, my lips lingering for a few, stolen seconds before I break the connection.

Her lids flutter open and she’s watching me with that attentive gaze. The one that makes me feel like she can see everything I hide inside me. The good and the bad. The beautiful and the ugly. “That’s all you got?”

She’s teasing me. I can see it in the light of her eyes, the slight quirk of her lips. Damn, I want to kiss her again, so I do.

This time, she slips her hand around the back of my head and keeps me there so I can’t escape. And I don’t want to. Her fingers thread through my hair, stroking me as our lips connect again and again. Her touch feels so good. A little moan escapes me and I swipe at her upper lip with my tongue, savoring her sticky sweet taste. She parts her lips, opening herself to me and I take full advantage.

I search her mouth with my tongue slowly. Thoroughly. She tastes fucking amazing and my skin is suddenly too tight, I’m burning up inside. I’m so hard, I ache with it, and I can’t remember ever becoming as turned on as this and so fast, too. Our fun little make out session is getting out of control quick, and I’m worried my parents are going to lose it when they see us all over each other in the backseat like a bunch of teenagers.

Within two seconds I don’t care if my parents see us or not. I’m lost in her touch, lost in the way her body molds to mine, how she tastes, the sound of her breathing.

My hand is resting on her waist, my fingers massaging the silky fabric of her dress. The road that takes us to Pebble Beach is curvy and my dad is driving kind of fast, so we’re swaying against each other in the back seat. I take advantage again, pulling her closer, loving how easily she comes to me. She wraps her arms around my neck and devours my mouth, her little tongue twisting and tangling with mine.

Our kissing isn’t for show. This isn’t to make an impression on others. We’re kissing each other because we want to. And we’re not stopping ourselves either.

We’re only two days in to this fake relationship crap and this is where we’re at, wrapped around each other like pretzels and hoping like hell we don’t have to let go of each other any time soon.