One Week Girlfriend - By Monica Murphy Page 0,36

concentrating. I'd rather take her to bed, strip her naked and bury myself inside her so I can forget, for at least a little while. I want to map every inch of her skin with my mouth. I want to sit with her in my arms and kiss her for hours, until our lips are swollen and our jaws are tired. I want to know what she looks like when she comes. And I want to be the one who makes her come with my name falling from her lips.

I have never felt this way before about any girl. Ever. I sound like a complete pussy, but Fable overwhelms me - in a good way. And I've known her less than a week.

Sometimes, I guess that's all it takes.

"I love this restaurant." She looks around after the waitress brought us our plates, the smile on Fable's face the happiest I've seen her since I brought her to this town where I grew up. "It's so cute. And the food smells amazing."

Everything in downtown Carmel is what I'd label as cute. It's got a doll-like feel to it, lots of cottages everywhere and everything's tiny, all the narrow passages and secret hideaways. It's like a fairy tale.

"Dig in," I encourage because I'm starving and ready to take my own advice. I ordered a chicken club sandwich while Fable ordered some sort of Asian chicken salad. I take a couple of bites, so involved in stuffing my mouth full of food, I'm missing out on the look of pure bliss on Fable's face as she eats.

I set the sandwich on my plate, completely transfixed. It's ridiculous, my reaction to her. Doesn't help that I'm horny as hell and everything she does seems to turn me on.

But she's really enjoying that salad. Her eyes are half-closed and she's wearing this dreamy expression. She licks her lips, the sight of her pink tongue doing me in and I swallow hard, my appetite for food suddenly gone.

My appetite for Fable comes roaring to life instead.

"This is amazing. Like, the best dressing I've ever tasted." She looks at me, her delicate brows bunched. "Are you okay? I thought you were hungry?"

"Uhh..." Busted.

"You're not eating. You don't like it?" Her concern is sweet, but this has nothing to do with a freaking sandwich and everything to do with her. How much I want her.

And I want her pretty damn bad.

For once, I'm ready to just go with this and not worry about the consequences. We're attracted to each other. She won't have any expectations, and neither do I. My turbulent past can be pushed away and replaced - at least temporarily - with new memories I can make here with Fable.

"The sandwich's good." I take another bite to prove it and she smiles her approval before she starts back in on her salad.

It hits me then that we're on a lunch date. I'm the most pathetic twenty-one-year old guy alive. I play football, I get good grades in college, I have girls dying to go out with me, and I've never really taken a girl on a date. Have no idea how to be in a relationship. My past has turned me off of all that stuff and I've let it rule me for far too long.

"Tomorrow's Thanksgiving," Fable says after she takes a drink of her iced tea. "Does your family have a big get together or what?"

"Not really." Well, we haven't since my sister Vanessa died, but I'm not going there. Too heavy of a topic today. "The last few years we've gone on vacation during Thanksgiving."

"How fun." Her smile is sweet but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She's just saying that because she thinks I expect her to. She sees how fucked up we all are.

She's the first person who's figured that out.

"Besides, most of my dad's family is on the east coast. My dad is from New York originally," I continue.

"Really?" She wipes her mouth with a white cloth napkin, then drops it into her lap. My gaze settles on her lips. They're plump, a pretty shade of pink and I'm dying to taste them again.

It's like I woke up this morning with sex on the brain. Pretty accurate, considering the morning wood I was sporting. I'd dreamed of her, misty, out of focus images of the two of us tangled in the sheets. She's consuming me and I'm letting it happen. Reveling in it, really.

"Yeah. My mom was from there, too."