Page 15 of Pretty Desperate (Pine Village #6)

JILLIAN

“ I hate this,” I say the moment we step inside the privacy of his office.

Kameron exhales. “Me too. I’m sorry to be putting you in this position.”

I can tell by the look in his eyes he means it. He doesn’t like this any more than I do, but now we’re stuck. Sure, we could probably call the whole thing off, but I doubt he would. Especially not after verbally agreeing to the terms set at the end of our dinner meeting.

Mrs. Krokus is excited. She’s ready to see new life breathed into her old building, and after they discussed the terms of the sale, she told us all about the history of the building over tiramisu.

The sparkle in her eyes and the joy in her voice was evident, and I think that’s the only reason I didn’t run screaming from the room.

The weight of this lie is heavy.

Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I say, “Closing in a month, huh?”

He nods and the faintest smile stretches across his lips. “I’ve been wanting this for so long, it’s hard to believe it might actually be coming true.”

“So, what are you thinking? A month until you close, and then we break up…in a few weeks? Another month?” Not that Kameron isn’t a great fake boyfriend, but knowing my luck Mr. Right really will appear out of nowhere, and I’ll miss him because I’m fake dating my friend for business.

“I’d say a month? Four weeks feels like a good timeline, though I’ve never actually had a fake girlfriend, so I have no idea what’s deemed the appropriate length of time for this.”

“I’ll agree to four weeks,” I tell him, shifting my weight from side to side as my brain spins.

“Why do you do that?” he asks, stepping toward me.

“What?” I ask, noticing how very close he’s standing.

“That. You shift, like you’re nervous.” He’s directly in front of me now, and I have to look up to keep eye contact. “Are you nervous?”

Clearing my throat over the instant dryness, I reply, “I’m nervous about the situation.”

“But not about me?” he confirms, reaching out and resting his hand on my hip. It’s warm and big and very much wanted right now.

“No, not about you.”

His eyes drop to my lips, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about. Is he going to kiss me? Do I want him to kiss me? Ummm, hell to the yeah I want him to kiss me again, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to. “Good. I’d hate if I were the cause of your nervousness.”

I lick my lips. “You’re not.”

He’s still staring at my mouth, neither of us moving. “Jillian?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you thinking about the kiss?” He finally looks up and meets my eyes. “Because I am.”

“Me too,” I murmur.

He clears his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Okay.” My answer is quick and honest and probably comes out way too eager.

His mouth descends, his lips pressing firmly against mine.

I feel his hand tighten around my hip as he gently draws me into his body.

My arms wrap around his shoulders as I lean my body into his.

As his tongue dances across the seam of my lips, coaxing them open, his other hand shifts to my lower back before angling down.

I feel his fingers flex against the globe of my ass. My entire body is alive, craving more.

Going up on my tiptoes, I practically glue my chest to his.

He’s tall enough I have to work to get up to his height, but I don’t mind.

Not when we’re pressed together the way we are.

His other hand joins the one on my ass, and with one swift action, I’m spun around, being lifted into the air at the same time.

My legs wrap around his waist as I’m crowded against the back of his office door.

His tongue delves deeper, his hands flexing against my backside, and all I can do is hang on and enjoy the ride.

Now this is a kiss…

My hips rock, completely on their own, as I take notice of his erection between my legs for the first time. I gasp, sucking in a greedy gulp of oxygen as pleasure races through my veins. It’s too much, and not enough, all at the same time.

“Jesus,” Kameron mutters against my lips, breathing hard.

He meets my gaze, his eyes dark with desire and wicked intent, and even though there are probably a dozen reasons why this is a bad idea, I can’t seem to think of a single one. Not when he kisses like a dream, all possessive and raw, and I am here for it.

Here. For. It.

“Chemistry,” he murmurs, leaning forward and running his nose along my jaw.

I hear him lightly inhale, as if he’s committing the scent of my hair or skin to memory.

Hell, he can probably smell my pheromones.

They’re pouring from my body, practically holding up signs, directing him to the place I ache for him most.

“Chemistry,” I confirm, recalling how he used that word on Sunday night after we shared our first kiss.

There’s no doubt, Kameron and I have it in spades.

“I’m sorry for mauling you,” he adds, but I notice he doesn’t release his hold. He’s still very much there, pressing me into the door, his body between my legs.

“Don’t be.” I’m ready to beg but somehow keep my clit and incredibly wet core from making all my decisions.

Kameron sighs, his warm breath tickling my cheek. “I should apologize,” he starts, looking up and holding my eyes, “but I won’t. No, I can’t. If I should apologize, I will, but dammit, I’m not sorry for kissing you like this, Jilly.”

My heart beats wildly, both in desperation and happiness. “I’m not sorry either, Kam.”

The corner of his lips curls up into a small smile, and as handsome as I thought he was before, that slight gesture seems to add a thousand percent to his hotness scale. Something as simple as a little grin transforms his entire face, brightening his dark eyes.

Carefully, he slowly helps me down. “Well, I’m glad we have that settled.”

I nod, even though I’m not sure what he means.

Yes, it’s settled in the regard we have chemistry and both enjoyed the kiss.

But then what? I don’t know about him, but I’m sexually charged right now, and that’s most definitely not settled.

The only thing that is certain is I’ll be busting out my trusty vibrator again when I get home, just to take the edge off.

Even then, I’m not sure it’ll help much.

“What are your plans for the rest of this Sunday evening?” he asks, stepping back so he’s not overcrowding me.

“Umm, probably just go home and get ready for bed. Maybe stop by Molly’s Ice Cream Parlor and grab a caramel crunch dish on my way.” I’m hoping it’ll help cool me off.

“Mmm,” he practically purrs, causing a fresh wave of wetness to flood my panties. “I’m a cherry chip guy myself.”

Saliva gathers in my mouth as I picture Kameron licking ice cream off a spoon. Of course, then I start thinking about him licking other things…

Clearing my throat again, I give my head a gentle shake, trying to dislodge all the dirty thoughts that seem to be front and center. “That’s a good one too,” I reply lamely.

He gives me a panty-melting smile. “Maybe we’ll share a bowl soon.”

“Sure,” I reply, standing up straight. “Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.” I can’t help but notice how close he still is. “I enjoy sharing my love for food with people, especially when they appreciate it.”

“I understand that. That’s why I bake.”

“Food is about an experience,” he murmurs, the room starting to close in on me.

“I agree,” I whisper, my lips suddenly feeling too dry, the room too hot.

He gives me a slow nod. “I like sharing meals with you, Jillian. Let’s do it again soon.”

“Okay,” I agree easily.

“I have tomorrow night off. How about I cook for you at my place?”

His offer surprises me a bit, and I find myself adjusting my foot a bit and tapping it. “What can I bring?”

Kameron finally moves, stepping back and sitting on the corner of his desk. He crosses his arms, his crisp button-down with the restaurant logo embroidered over his left pec stretched tightly across his chest. “Just yourself.”

“How about I bring dessert?” I suggest.

His eyes drop, taking a slow perusal of my body, and I swear I can feel the dirty thoughts parading through his mind. “Perfect.”

I nod. “What time?”

“How about six?” he suggests.

“All right.”

“You know where I live?” he asks.

It’s a small town. I know where Kameron lives, even though I’ve never physically been to his address. “I do.”

“See you tomorrow, Jilly,” he replies, standing up and walking to the door. Since I’m standing directly in front of it, he brushes against me as he reaches for the knob and gives it a turn.

“Good night, Kameron,” I whisper, stepping out of the small room and into the hallway.

With my head held high, I exit the restaurant, refusing to glance around to see who’s in the dining room.

I can feel their eyes on me and know people are speculating about what I was doing there.

I was seen having dinner with Kameron—twice now—and just exiting the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. But just past that, the office of the owner.

I push out of the restaurant, offering Veronica a pleasant goodnight as I pass. She does the same, and I don’t miss the knowing smile stretched across her pink lips.

It’s a beautiful night as I head home, having walked to the restaurant for our dinner meeting.

There’s a light breeze that holds a hint of the cooler temperatures on the horizon.

It won’t be long, and I won’t be able to walk as much as I do during the summer months.

The snow will be flying and winter coats, gloves, hats, and boots will be necessary to step outside.

But that’s not for me to think about tonight. I let the breeze cool my flushed skin as I walk, a little extra spring in my step, accompanied by the memories of more amazing kisses. Not to mention the feel of his erection pressed very firmly against my body.

I have plans with him again tomorrow evening.

Dinner.

At his house.

I can’t help but wonder what might be on the menu.

Is it wrong to hope it’s me?