Faker - Sarah Smith Page 0,113
his nana’s. I tell him, and he groans.
“You will not be late to visit your grandma.”
He settles on his back. I cuddle into his chest.
Wet lips land on my forehead, then slide to my mouth. We kiss again for minutes, barely pausing to breathe. With my hands cupping his face, I break us apart. “If we keep this up, you’re going to be late.”
His hand on my chin, he guides my mouth to his. “Come with me.”
I pull back. “To meet your grandma? No way,” I chuckle.
“Why not? My parents will be there too. They’ll all love you. And they’ll love me more for snagging someone like you.”
My heart flutters at his eagerness to have me meet his family, but deep down I know the timing isn’t right. “I’d love to meet your family, but not during my walk of shame after our first night together.” I kiss the tip of his nose. “It’s been a whirlwind the past eighteen hours, don’t you think? Give me more than half an hour to prep.”
He squints, then smiles, seeming to understand. “All the time you need.”
“Maybe next weekend.”
His lips purse. “I don’t know. Don’t you think that’s a bit soon?”
I nudge his rock-hard stomach with my elbow, and he booms a throaty laugh, pinning me against his chest with both arms.
“Do you hear that?” Tate says.
It takes a few seconds, but I zero in on a faint beeping sound.
“That’s your phone,” he says. “It’s been beeping for the past few minutes.”
I was clearly caught up in the moment, because I didn’t hear a thing. “It’s my sister. I hung up on her earlier to answer the door. She’s going to blow up my phone till I call her back.”
He gathers my hair off my shoulder and brushes his lips against my bare flesh. Another phone beep. I close my eyes, wishing we could enjoy each other without any more interruptions.
“She probably wants to make sure you’re okay. You should talk to her. And you’re right, I need to get going.” He rolls away and sits up, pulling me up to stand with him.
I turn playful and pull him to face me. “One more kiss. Please?” My voice is a breathy whisper. There’s a flame in his eyes.
The heat between us reignites, and he grabs at my naked body with urgency. If I were wearing clothes, they’d be torn off in an instant. I reach for him, but he holds both of my wrists in a firm grip. Our foreheads press together while we take deep gulps of air, waiting for our breaths to steady. By the heat of this kiss, you’d never guess we’d just finished ravaging each other in his bed.
His grip moves to my waist. It’s firm yet soft, just like him. Our bodies work so well together whether we’re lying down or standing.
“Emmie, I . . .”
The low, gentle tone of his voice is a cloud floating between us. He runs his fingers through my hair again. I savor the sweet contact. A minute passes without him saying anything. Heavy panting is the only sound we make.
“What is it?” I say, opening my eyes.
His stare jolts me. He’s stripped a layer of himself and is letting me see through his eyes. I feel like I can peer miles inside of him. There’s affection, longing, and something else. Something deep and far off. I want him to tell me exactly what it is.
“Just say it,” I whisper. I’m shaking so hard on the inside, my fingertips twitch.
“You should get dressed and go home,” he says quietly. “Skype with your sister. She needs to see you.”
I nod, disappointed. He was about to say something important but chickened out. His take-it-slow nature wins out once more.
We dress in silence, our backs to each other. It’s probably better this way. If we made eye contact, we’d end up sidetracked in his bed or shower. I slip on my black dress and heels while he grabs the Oscar the Grouch T-shirt I dropped on the bathroom floor and pulls it on.
“You should wear something else,” I say while rifling in my purse for my keys. “I hadn’t showered when I wore that.”
“I like it though. It smells like you. This way I’ll have you with me the rest of the day.” His tender tone compels me to turn around.
Last night, he was the one to put himself on the line when he revealed his feelings to me. And now there’s something I can do