Manwhore +1
Page 100
“Oh god, don’t. I won’t last if you do that.”
“Why . . .”
I inhale sharply, then hold my breath as he slides his lips across mine and to the other corner of my mouth. My lungs strain as I hold my breath, savoring the ghost kiss until he eases back.
Our eyes connect. My lips tingle from his kiss. I exhale shakily, reaching out to cup his jaw. And I do exactly what he did. I brush my lips to the corner of his mouth. I hear him inhale too, deep and hard. Exhale when I ease back. Green eyes shimmer with desire and need and things he hasn’t said to me but maybe I don’t need him to. I don’t need him to at all. I lean forward and press my lips to the other edge of his mouth. But he cheats. He cups the back of my head to hold me still and turns a fraction of an inch so he can capture my kiss with his lips.
I try to edge back, very aware that the waiter will soon be returning and I need to go back to my seat.
“Did you mess up my lipstick?”
“What lipstick?”
I laugh, and Saint chuckles and holds my hand over the table as I return to my seat.
“I like this laugh,” he says, his thumb stroking over the back of mine. “I like this laugh very much.”
He wants me to spend the weekend with him, so we stop by my place. We’ll be hitting The Toy and doing lunch somewhere he wants to take me to, by the lake.
Gina is panicking when she sees me come home one minute and come out to the living room the next. “You have a bag? A big bag?” she asks, wide-eyed as she stares at the bag slung over my shoulder.
“It’s only one comfortable pair of shoes, Gina, for the gym in his building. One for going out. And one for the office. And my toothbrush, and just a few more things. I’m not moving in, I’m simply being practical. He . . . he asked me to spend the weekend.”
“Rachel . . .” she says.
“It’s only the weekend, Gina! Maybe one or two nights a week. I’ll find a good balance,” I promise.
“Dude, you’re making me want to get a dog. Someone who gives a shit about when I get home.”
“I DO!” I cry, hugging her as my heart squishes a little bit. How could I not have thought of this? I’ve been so happy and I didn’t think twice about saying yes right now. “I love you, G.”
She hugs me back in mopey silence, but then slaps my bum. “He’s out there?”
“Yes.”
“You know . . .” She pauses, her expression apologetic. “He’s no Paul, Rache.”
“I know, Gina.”
We stare at each other. We’ve never really been separated in a way that feels so . . . real for years.
“Okay. I’ll see you Monday,” I finally tell her, heading to the door as she drops back to the couch and glares at the TV.
“Monday is Monday, Rachel, not Tuesday or Thursday,” she threatens.
“I know what Monday is.” I groan and laugh, as I hold the doorknob in my hands, still somehow waiting for a bigger reassurance.
“Don’t look sad on my behalf, I’m having an orgy while you’re away. Shit is really going to go down here now that the responsible one is gone,” she promises, but all too soon, she drops the big bad-girl act and grows serious, her expression softening. “Rache, I’m so happy for you. I love how happy he makes you. I want you to know I’m on board with this, one hundred percent.”
My best friend. Unlike Wynn, not a lot of people like Gina. Not a lot of people get her. But I love her all the same. I come back, give her another kiss on the cheek, and leave quietly.
“Monday,” I say.
“Have enough sex for the both of us!” she calls.
I come out into the evening breeze, swinging the bag with my things behind my shoulder.
And there he is, leaning against his car, arms crossed, wearing this most perfect smile.
I start forward and I’m truly breathless. I walk up to him and he meets me halfway. His smile, when he sees me, is the kind that stops traffic. And now it stops my heart. This man renders women stupid and I’m officially the most affected, because I’ve been seeing a lot of his smiles today. And I’ve been smiling a lot too.
I’m smiling now, a smile that receives a kiss from his smiling mouth as he helps me into his car.
The elevator doors close behind us seconds after we reach his penthouse. The city lights twinkle outside, and it looks so perfectly peaceful and happy as he lifts me in his arms.
Locking my legs around his hips, I grab his shirt collar and let my lips wander up his jaw in search of his. “I’m hungry,” I breathe.
“Why . . .”
I inhale sharply, then hold my breath as he slides his lips across mine and to the other corner of my mouth. My lungs strain as I hold my breath, savoring the ghost kiss until he eases back.
Our eyes connect. My lips tingle from his kiss. I exhale shakily, reaching out to cup his jaw. And I do exactly what he did. I brush my lips to the corner of his mouth. I hear him inhale too, deep and hard. Exhale when I ease back. Green eyes shimmer with desire and need and things he hasn’t said to me but maybe I don’t need him to. I don’t need him to at all. I lean forward and press my lips to the other edge of his mouth. But he cheats. He cups the back of my head to hold me still and turns a fraction of an inch so he can capture my kiss with his lips.
I try to edge back, very aware that the waiter will soon be returning and I need to go back to my seat.
“Did you mess up my lipstick?”
“What lipstick?”
I laugh, and Saint chuckles and holds my hand over the table as I return to my seat.
“I like this laugh,” he says, his thumb stroking over the back of mine. “I like this laugh very much.”
He wants me to spend the weekend with him, so we stop by my place. We’ll be hitting The Toy and doing lunch somewhere he wants to take me to, by the lake.
Gina is panicking when she sees me come home one minute and come out to the living room the next. “You have a bag? A big bag?” she asks, wide-eyed as she stares at the bag slung over my shoulder.
“It’s only one comfortable pair of shoes, Gina, for the gym in his building. One for going out. And one for the office. And my toothbrush, and just a few more things. I’m not moving in, I’m simply being practical. He . . . he asked me to spend the weekend.”
“Rachel . . .” she says.
“It’s only the weekend, Gina! Maybe one or two nights a week. I’ll find a good balance,” I promise.
“Dude, you’re making me want to get a dog. Someone who gives a shit about when I get home.”
“I DO!” I cry, hugging her as my heart squishes a little bit. How could I not have thought of this? I’ve been so happy and I didn’t think twice about saying yes right now. “I love you, G.”
She hugs me back in mopey silence, but then slaps my bum. “He’s out there?”
“Yes.”
“You know . . .” She pauses, her expression apologetic. “He’s no Paul, Rache.”
“I know, Gina.”
We stare at each other. We’ve never really been separated in a way that feels so . . . real for years.
“Okay. I’ll see you Monday,” I finally tell her, heading to the door as she drops back to the couch and glares at the TV.
“Monday is Monday, Rachel, not Tuesday or Thursday,” she threatens.
“I know what Monday is.” I groan and laugh, as I hold the doorknob in my hands, still somehow waiting for a bigger reassurance.
“Don’t look sad on my behalf, I’m having an orgy while you’re away. Shit is really going to go down here now that the responsible one is gone,” she promises, but all too soon, she drops the big bad-girl act and grows serious, her expression softening. “Rache, I’m so happy for you. I love how happy he makes you. I want you to know I’m on board with this, one hundred percent.”
My best friend. Unlike Wynn, not a lot of people like Gina. Not a lot of people get her. But I love her all the same. I come back, give her another kiss on the cheek, and leave quietly.
“Monday,” I say.
“Have enough sex for the both of us!” she calls.
I come out into the evening breeze, swinging the bag with my things behind my shoulder.
And there he is, leaning against his car, arms crossed, wearing this most perfect smile.
I start forward and I’m truly breathless. I walk up to him and he meets me halfway. His smile, when he sees me, is the kind that stops traffic. And now it stops my heart. This man renders women stupid and I’m officially the most affected, because I’ve been seeing a lot of his smiles today. And I’ve been smiling a lot too.
I’m smiling now, a smile that receives a kiss from his smiling mouth as he helps me into his car.
The elevator doors close behind us seconds after we reach his penthouse. The city lights twinkle outside, and it looks so perfectly peaceful and happy as he lifts me in his arms.
Locking my legs around his hips, I grab his shirt collar and let my lips wander up his jaw in search of his. “I’m hungry,” I breathe.
