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Piece of My Heart (Fostering Love 4)

Page 22

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“It’ll be over before you know it,” I said, reaching out to rest my hands on her hips. “And then the world is your oyster.”

“I’ve never understood that saying,” she replied, stretching her arms above her head before gracefully dropping to her knees in front of me. “Why the hell would I want an oyster?”

“It’s a Shakespeare quote,” I said, grabbing the blanket she’d dropped and wrapping it around her shoulders.

“You’ve read Shakespeare?” she asked in surprise, laughing as I towed her toward me with the blanket.

“My sister, Kate, went through a phase when she was about fourteen,” I admitted. “She went around quoting the Bard for weeks.”

“Is she older or younger?” Sarai asked, resting her hands on my chest.

We were finally face-to-face, so close that I could feel her breath. Her eyes were bright with happiness and her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and I was so busy wondering if I should just lean forward and kiss her that it took me a minute to realize she’d asked me a question.

“She’s younger,” I replied distractedly.

“Is it hard living so far away?”

She was staring at my mouth.

Screw it.

Instead of answering her, I leaned forward and caught her bottom lip between mine, biting down just enough to make her gasp. I groaned as her hands slid up to my neck and she leaned into the kiss. My fingers were still tangled in the blanket as the kiss grew hotter and wetter, and I groaned again as I tried to use it to pull her closer.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t paying attention to the way she was kneeling in front of me, because when I gave the blanket a tug, she lost her balance. Everything came to a screeching halt when one of her knees collided with my balls. The sound that came out of my mouth was something between a yelp and a squeal.

“Oh God,” she said as I gasped for air and tried not to curse a blue streak. “I’m so sorry!”

“Not your fault,” I wheezed as she scrambled backward.

I reached for her, pulling her back to me, slowly this time.

“Are you okay?” she whispered, her hands cradling my face.

“A little nauseous, but yeah,” I replied half-jokingly, making her laugh.

“Poor baby,” she said, leaning in for another kiss. The brush of her lips was so light that I barely felt it.

“My own fault,” I muttered, frozen in place as she pulled my top lip, then the bottom one between hers. Holy hell, why did it feel so good? I was more of a full-contact kisser, tongue and teeth and lips working together, but hell if this wasn’t more intense.

“Thank you for bringing me out here,” she said, pulling slightly away so our eyes met. “I needed it.”

“I’m glad you got a little time to relax.”

“Me too,” she said with a sigh. She turned in my lap and rested against me, her head pressed against my shoulder.

I pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and leaned my head against the cab of the truck. Even with my balls throbbing with every beat of my heart, it was still the best night I’d had in a long time.

* * *

After our picnic Sarai and I struggled to find time to see each other. I swear to God, I never had anything to do, and now suddenly it seemed like I was just as busy as she was. Sarai had classes Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays right after work and didn’t get home until nine o’clock. I had softball practice Tuesdays and Fridays after work for the stupid league I’d signed up for before we met. I was seriously regretting the day I’d thought it was a good idea to spend two nights a week playing softball with a bunch of guys I worked with all day, but if I was honest, my schedule probably didn’t matter much. When Sarai wasn’t busy at work or school, she was studying.

I had no idea how she kept up with it all. She seemed exhausted whenever we talked on the phone, but she never complained.

“You know if this woman really wanted to hang with you, she would, right?” Ani said conspiratorially through the phone. It was Tuesday night, and I was currently lying on my couch, icing my knee. I’d twisted it at practice, and it had swelled up like a balloon almost instantly. I’d been elevating and icing it for the last hour, and it didn’t seem to be making much of a difference.

“I’m not taking your advice,” I replied, shifting carefully. “You said breakfast wasn’t a date, and you were clearly wrong.”

“I wasn’t wrong,” she shot back.

“She’s into me,” I replied stubbornly.

“She’s not that into you.”

“She’s busy.”

“No one is that busy.”

“She’s got a full-time job and is working toward her MBA,” I argued. “She’s crazy busy.”

“Fine,” Ani said with a sigh, making me grin. “But, dude, seriously. Is this even a thing if you never actually see her?”



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