Pretending She's His: A Hard Feelings Novella (7 page)

“Do I really need to tell you to bend over again, Red? I’ll gladly kiss that ass of yours anytime.”

She rolled her eyes. Not much else to do to smooth out that comment.

“Should we give them a little show?” he asked, a slight hint of excitement in his voice, like he was at the shooting range, about to pull the trigger on a brand new Glock for the first time. Yes, gun metaphors—she was a soldier—it would be the same thing that would give her that slight hint of excitement too.

Raising an eyebrow, skeptically, she questioned, “Give them a show?

“We’ve got an audience.”

Eva didn’t need to look to the side to know that everyone who was still sitting at that table was watching them. But before she could even respond to him, he kissed her.

Damn, did he kiss her . . .

His finger rested beneath her chin, lifting it slightly so her head was angled toward his. His lips brushed over hers, and then lingered there—barely touching. It was agonizing. She wanted so bad to crush her lips to his—hard. She wanted so bad to lift her hands to the back of his neck and pull him to her so she could feel the full weight of his lips on hers.

But she didn’t.

His hand dropped from hers, leaving it still resting on his chest, and he placed it on the middle of her back. Although his mouth was gentle, soft, and light, his hands were firm, hard, and eager. She liked feeling that from him. And she hated that she liked it.

His lips parted, pushing hers open along with his, then he easily pulled her bottom lip into his mouth. Just a little. He didn’t suck hard, he didn’t nibble, he just pulled it into his mouth, like he was trying to taste her, like he was trying to savor a little more of their kiss.

She melted against him and his arms held her tightly. She thought she felt a small tug to the corners of his lips as if he was smiling, but she couldn’t be sure. She was a sopping puddle. She was a swooning, sappy, gushy mess at the moment. And none of those things were Eva. She didn’t melt, she didn’t swoon or gush. But apparently she did now.

His tongue never entered her mouth as he moved his lips over hers. Damn, this man knew what the hell he was doing. She wanted to slip her tongue inside and taste him, she wanted to feel the warmth of his mouth coat hers, she wanted to deepen this little teasing kiss and expand the flutter that had formed in her stomach.

Just as she was about to break her own rule, he pulled away. Moving his mouth to the side of her neck, he kissed her beneath her ear. This time she felt his tongue. It snaked out and sampled a small patch of her skin, just barely and all too quickly. Then he moved to her ear and whispered, “See, I told you it wouldn’t be so bad pretending to be mine.”

If she wasn’t still reeling and lightheaded from the most PG-rated kiss she had ever had, she would tell him to fuck off. She hated that he knew the effect he just had on her. Eva was a proud woman, and Trevor was a cocky ass. He could think whatever the hell he wanted to think. There was no way she would admit what that kiss did to her.

Chapter Five

Trevor watched as Eva pulled her dress over her head, standing in nothing but her flesh-colored strapless bra and thong. Had he mentioned how fucking nice that ass of hers was?

“I think we pulled it off pretty well, don’t you?” he asked, stepping out of his trousers and hanging them up.

Eva laughed, her mood from the remainder of the evening seeping into the enclosed space of the bedroom, making him smile. He’d held on to her, and as the night went on, Eva started holding on to him as well. She would lean her head against his chest as she laughed. She would pull him against her as she danced, allowing him to feel the way her hips would dip and sway to the fast beat against him or the way her chest felt as it rose and fell against him to the rhythm of a slow song. She would smile at him between her conversations. And she would climb onto his lap when they were all sitting down having a drink together. Seeing Meagan so happy and witnessing Eva’s joy and ease at her best friend’s wedding gave him a satisfaction that ran deep. He loved these women, and he’d do anything to see those smiles across their faces. And he’d admit that it felt damn good to finally get his hands on that redhead.

“Yep,” she replied, turning her back to him as she unsnapped her bra. But he wasn’t going to complain, because now he got to peer at that perky little ass of hers.

Pulling a t-shirt over her head that hit the middle of her thigh, she turned back around and raised her brows at him when she noticed his not so subtle staring.

“What?” he asked innocently. “Don’t flash me your ass if you don’t want me to look.”

Rolling her eyes, she slipped the thong down her legs and pulled on a pair of skimpy shorts. Yanking down the sheet and comforter, she eyed Trevor while he peeled out of his shirt, enjoying her view just as he had moments ago. But he liked that she looked at him. He would stand there butt-ass naked if she wanted him to, all she had to do was ask.

“Was it everything you thought it would be?” she teased as she climbed into bed. That was a bit of a loaded question. He didn’t know how to answer that. Fuck no, it wasn’t everything he thought it would be because every time he’d thought about touching her or kissing her, it was a hell of a lot more than the pathetic attempt at a kiss he gave her out by the tent. But at the same time—at the risk of sounding like a complete sap—it was more than he thought it would be. He about fucking came undone when her small body fell against his like she was too weak from his touch to support herself. The way she shivered under his fingers sent a pulse to his dick that gave him images of making her shiver beneath his mouth. They way her skin tasted on his tongue . . .
fuck.

He turned from her and tried to subtly shift his now hard dick in his tight boxers. Unsuccessful, he walked to the light switch next to the door and flipped the ceiling light off in attempt to hide his erection. Was he embarrassed about his dick rising at the thought of her? No. But he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

Pulling his side of the covers down, he crawled in bed next to Eva. He could smell the scent of her shampoo lingering on her hair as it spilled out on her pillow, cascading over to his side of the bed. He wanted to reach out and run his fingers through the smooth strands. Her hair was usually in its natural curly state, wild and wiry—like her. But the soft, flowy locks of hair that splayed out around her now were calm and soft—kind of like the way she felt in his arms earlier.

Stretching out on his back, he raised his hands above his head.

“Think he bought it?” Eva asked.

He shifted his head toward her. She had turned on her side, her check pressed against the pillow and her hands tucked up under her chin. She looked meek and vulnerable, and the sight of her curled sweetly next to him was downright torture.

“Do I think Luke bought it?” He laughed and lowered his voice. “Whether he bought it or not doesn’t matter. He saw me touch you,”—he watched as a rosy heat fanned across Eva’s face, the dim florescent light from the bedside lamp aiding his eyes. He smiled, loving the idea of her blushing at the memory of his touch—“and kiss you. As far as he’s concerned, you’re mine. Pretending or not.”

She sighed, relieved.

“But he’s pissed,” Trevor acknowledged. “If you didn’t want to hurt him, you’re failing. I’m pretty sure you sent a kick to his balls when you kissed me
back
.”

“I . . . I” she stammered. “Well . . . No, I didn’t want to hurt him—but he got cocky, acting like he was happy for me, then when you told everyone we were together he looked at me as if he thought I was full of shit. Don’t give me a challenge unless you want me to accept it.”

“Down, girl,” he said in the midst of a laugh.

“Well, I’m just saying,” she said defensively.

Reaching over Eva, Trevor switched off the lamp on the nightstand. He rolled back onto his back and starred up at the black ceiling, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. “I’m sure we could’ve been a bit more convincing.” His voice was low and deliberate. Rolling to his side, he lifted his hand to her face and trailed his thumb across her bottom lip. It was plump, and felt soft under the rough pad of his thumb.

He felt her breath stagger as he moved his body closer to her. He wanted to kiss her, really kiss her. Not that fucking excuse for a kiss he gave her earlier, or all the chaste kisses they shared afterward. He wanted to crush his lips to her and still all the air from her lungs until she was begging him to stop, until she couldn’t possibly continue.

“Trev,” she whispered.

His thumb skimmed across her lip one last time before he moved it over her jaw and down the side of her neck. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Just do it. Just kiss me.”

Her breathless order was shocking in the best possible way.

So he did. He kissed her. And when his lips fell to hers, she melted beneath him.

And it drove him fucking crazy.

Her response to him was like nothing he ever expected from her. Here was this woman who was tough as nails, ballsy as hell, bossy and confident—strong—and she was a soft, sweet mess beneath him. Her breath was cool, as he parted her lips with his and sucked the breath from her mouth into his own. Without releasing his tongue into her mouth, he tasted her. He pulled her lip between his and savored the taste of mint and wine that lingered on her mouth.

She writhed under him, pushing herself against him, as if she was trying to form an impression of her shape along the contour of his body.

His hands wandered along her sides, clutching her against him. “God, you feel fucking perfect,” he confessed, but the moment the words bounced along the thin slice of air between their mouths, she froze.

He had lost a bit of his control. He had crossed the line. It was just so goddamned easy to forget this whole thing wasn’t real when he could feel her softening against his hard body . . .

He released a silent, defeated sigh. “Roll over,” he ordered, not expecting her to comply. But she did.

His hand wound around her stomach and he pulled her back against his chest. “Lift up your head.” She did and he slipped his arm underneath her neck.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he curved his body around hers. She was stiff against him. Fuck. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable near him. But he didn’t think he could sleep next to her without touching her.

Not now. Not anymore.

“Spooning you,” he replied. This was magic. It was the one thing every man should know if he didn’t already. Women were suckers for this position—romantically or not. He was almost positive it was in their genetic makeup. It was a cure-all for almost any situation a man found himself in. Tell her to roll over and hold her so tightly against you, and she will more than likely forgive whatever the hell you did in the first place.

“I know all you women love this shit,” he said, subtlety breathing in the scent of her skin—light and sweet.

She didn’t say anything, more than likely too stubborn to admit that she in fact loved being spooned, but she sighed and relaxed, then wedged herself in tighter to him—and that said plenty.

***

Eva stretched her legs, groaning, as she rolled onto her back. Turning her head to the side she looked over at Trevor who was sound asleep flat on his back. The soft puffs of breath that flowed from his slightly parted mouth breathed warm air between them. His lips were tempting and she never realized it until she felt them against hers. He teased her with those lips, and she knew he did it on purpose. Sure, she’d put the “no tongue” rule into effect, but there was no way he couldn’t tell how eager she was last night for him to kiss her harder, deeper. She was practically foaming at the mouth to slip her tongue inside his.

But this was Trevor.

Having these feelings and thoughts about him was insane. After four years, she had never once wanted to kiss him. Never once wanted to scoot her body in close to his and curl up next to him as he slept.
Fuck.
What was wrong with her?

But then again, she had never seen this side of Trevor either. The sexy side. Okay, she had seen the sexy side, but she had never had that sexy side directed at her. Yes he flirted, he was the definition of a flirt. But the way he regarded her yesterday, and the way he moved his fingers, his hands, his lips, on her was different. It was sensual. It was sexy. It was sweet.

She would never have thought that the lovable man-whore she called a friend had a sexy side that ran deeper than his playboy persona . . .

Fighting the desire to reach out and touch the muscles that rippled under his bare stomach, she slid from the bed and quietly crept toward the door, closing it on her way out.

It was early, but it seemed that everyone was already up. Becky was playing with her daughter in the living room while a few of Reed’s friends watched TV, and Luke was sitting with Meagan, Reed, and his parents at the kitchen table.

Ambling into the kitchen, she pulled a coffee cup from the cabinet and filled it.

“How’d ya sleep last night, babe?” Meagan asked when Eva pulled a bar stool over to the table and sat down.

She narrowed her eyes and said, “Fine. How was your wedding night? And why the hell are you already up? Reed, I’m disappointed in you. I would have hoped you’d worn my girl out.”

Meagan blushed and shifted her eyes to Reed’s parents, embarrassed.

“Don’t be disappointed,” Reed said, sending Meagan a look that almost gave Eva the warm fuzzies. “I’m not.” He winked.

Again, Eva had to hand it to Meagan. Reed was sex on a stick and head over heels for Meagan. She had a good one.

A bare chest pressed against her back and she felt a firm kiss on the back of her head as two hands fell to her shoulders. “You snuck out on me this morning, baby.” Trevor said, diving right back in to his role as boyfriend of the year.

She smiled and peered over her shoulder at him. “That’s because you looked so good sleeping. I’m surprised you’re up already.”

He leaned his head down to her ear and nipped it quickly with his teeth, but the sensation it left behind sent a flutter between her legs. “I’d be happy to go back to bed if you come with me,” he said softly.