Page 35 of Fake Wife
She laughs quietly. Barely a whisper of a sound and she shakes her head. The movement makes her hair fall, hiding her face from me, and that won’t do. She wears her emotions clear as day all over her face.
I brush her silky hair back, tucking a thick chunk behind her ear. A deeper blush darkens her cheeks and I run my knuckles over it, her skin hot and flush. Warm and tempting.
I’m asking her about another man and all I want to do is kiss her.
I am so screwed.
“I wasn’t thinking about him,” she whispers. Her words are starting to slur, but she continues. “Was thinking about you.”
My hand falls to her chin and I tilt her so she’s looking at me. So drunk, lids half open, that if she drinks any more tequila she’s going to be swimming in it. “I was thinking about our kiss in the car and how much I wanted more of it.”
My brain shoutsdanger danger danger!My dick hardens, pushes against my zipper. He’s giving me the go sign, and as smart as I am, following my dick will be a mistake.
Doesn’t matter.
“Corbin,” she whispers.
I take it as a plea. I pull her to her feet, catching her as she sways.
I want to kiss her. Take care of her. Her bodyandher heart. Show her that I’m not the asshole I’ve been so far. Prove to her exactly how much she deserves better than Drake. I want to erase his memory from her so she never feels another stab of pain from anyone.
“I’m going to kiss you,” I whisper. My hand slides to the side of her throat. Her pulse is wild, fluttering against my palm.
Her lips part.
Acceptance.
I lean closer, tequila wafting off her breath like the most delicious distillery.
Then she jolts.
Her eyes flicker and she turns as green as her dress.
Oh crap.
“I think I’m going to throw up.”
And she does, all over the floor and my feet.
Chapter 13
Teagan
My eyes fly open into a completely dark room. There’s a wall of heat behind me, and something cool in my arm in front of me.
I blink rapidly, looking around, and the bright lights on the clock tell me it’s three o’clock exactly.
My head is pounding, a consequence of way too much tequila, too little food, too much rotten emotion.
My body is shouting for water.
I shift my arm and smile. I’ve been hugging a plastic bowl while I slept, and behind me, the hot wall of heat shifts and groans.
“You okay?” Corbin’s voice is quiet and gruff. I turn to him and his eyes are still closed.
“Yeah.” I sound like a frog. “Need water.”
“There’s some on the table.”
