Rate a Date by Monica Murphy Page 0,40

him with me, our mouths connected, my hands in his hair, tugging him down with me. His arms are around my waist, I can tell when his body hits the edge of the pool table, and then the next thing I know, I’m sprawled on top of the table and he’s on top of me.

On top of the table.

I start to laugh. I can’t help it.

Mitch silences me with his lips, and all my laughter is forgotten.

At some point after some lengthy kissing, he rises up on his knees, staring down at me. There was only a couple of lamps lit within the living room, so it’s fairly dim in here, and the lights from the city outside catch in his hair, his eyes, making them glow. “What were you laughing at earlier?”

“Oh. Well, we’re both on this table,” I say, reaching for him, my fingers going for his tucked-in, button-down shirt. I start pulling it out of his jeans, desperate to touch actual skin. “And we haven’t broke it.”

“It’s high quality,” he says, batting my hands away so he can undo the buttons on his shirt himself.

I watch in breathless anticipation as he undoes every single button before the fabric parts. And holy fucking moly, what he reveals is just like, say whaaaat?

Is he even real?

Like, I feel inferior when I see all the muscle there. The shoulders and the pecs and the washboard abs and the flat stomach, and oh! That trail of golden brown hair leading from just below his navel and disappearing into his pants. I want to see where that path leads. I want to follow down the yellow brick road with my tongue.

I start to giggle. It’s obvious I am still a little drunk.

“I’m going to develop a complex,” he says.

“I giggle when I’m nervous. Remember how I told you I get super awkward around guys?” When he nods, I point at my chest with my thumb. “This is me. Being awkward. Laughing while you’re trying to kiss me.”

“Let’s see if you’ll still be laughing after I’m through with you,” he says, like I dared him.

I watch in breathless anticipation as he leans over me, his mouth hovering above mine, our gazes locked. I’ve gone completely still, the giggling is long gone, and I wait for him to kiss me.

I’m dying for him to kiss me.

At the last second, he swerves, his mouth landing on my throat. His lips are hot. Damp. Feather soft. I go completely limp beneath him, my lids fluttering closed as he blazes a trail down my neck. Along my exposed collarbone. Across the tops of my breasts.

Thank God, I wore this dress with its low-cut, square neckline. Such a good choice for tonight.

“You’re not laughing now,” he murmurs against my skin, making me shiver. “You want me to stop?”

“God no,” I say immediately, making him laugh instead.

“Your skin is so soft,” he says just as he rests his hand beneath my right breast, giving it the gentlest squeeze. “I shouldn’t do this.”

“Oh yes,” I tell him fiercely. “You should.”

“Your friends could walk into the suite at any minute,” he reminds me.

“I sort of don’t care.” Oh my God, I really don’t. I mean, here I am on top of a pool table in the middle of the suite we’re sharing, with a man I barely know, and I swear to God, I just want him to…

Do me on this table. They happen to walk in during the middle of it? I might ask him to stop.

Or I might not.

Mitch tugs on the front of my dress, sending the neckline lower, and my breasts pop out even more. “You got a bra on under here?”

I shake my head, my hair spread out across the bright purple felt. I must look a sight. “The bodice was too tight, so it kept the girls pretty much contained.” I probably shouldn’t have said that. “Didn’t think I needed one.”

And trust me, folks, that never happens.

“I guess it’s my lucky night.” His hand shifts upward, pushing my right breast up, his fingers curling beneath the abundant flesh. My boobs are my favorite feature, yet they are also the bane of my existence. They’re just so big. Sometimes, I think they’re too big.

I watch as his fingers work the neckline of my dress and my breast all at once, his gaze determined, his ministrations patient. He has good hands. They’re large, with long fingers, and I can’t wait to feel them all over my naked