Fat Cat Liar

I lean to the side so I can see his face clearly. “No, I like it,” I admit softly.

“Good, because I have no plans to stop.” He kisses along my jaw until he reaches right below my ear. “Why do y’all need to plan a menu for next weekend?”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Next weekend is our annual camping trip.”

“I thought you had the baby shower next weekend.”

“We’re leaving afterwards.”

“The three of you are going camping alone in October?”

“Actually, it’s the five of us.”

He jerks back. “Enrique and Jonas are going?”

“Yes, it’s been a tradition for years. We have this private little place we go close to the beach. It’s our little getaway from civilization.”

His eyes turn darker and his body goes solid, the mood in the room changing. “Do you have separate tents?”

Without him saying anything, I can tell what he’s thinking. The possessive glare gives him away.

“We do have separate tents, but I could probably be persuaded to share with you if you’d like to join us.”

He relaxes, the glare vanishing. “I think that can be arranged.”

“Good, because Enrique and Jonas have informed me that having you around evens out the numbers.”

“Glad I can add an extra man to the group.”

“It’s more than that. They like you.”

“It’s about time. Jonas was easy, but Enrique was a tough case. I understand it, though. It’s nice to know you had someone watching out for you until I came along.”

I want to tell him it’s more than that. Enrique’s protective nature goes a lot deeper because of who I am. But now’s not the time. This weekend, I’ll share.

“It means a lot to me that you made the effort to get to know my friends because they are a part of my family. Hopefully, when I meet some of your friends, they’ll like me, too.”

I hope that was subtle enough, because I’m curious about the guys he calls friends. Especially since he ditched them last night and showed up at my apartment acting like he did.

His eyes melt into the molten bronze look I’ve learned well over the last few weeks. “I think breakfast time is over.” He twists my barstool and slides his hands under my butt, lifting me easily and taking us to his couch.

“I can’t wait for spring and summer, baby,” he says against my mouth, nibbling on my bottom lip.

“Why?”

“Because then, we can implement naked morning breakfast.”

“We could do that now.”

“Greer, you were shivering like a puppy when you rolled out of bed.”

I glance down at his NYU sweatshirt I confiscated from his closet this morning. I was shivering but not because of the cold air.

“I think it was more of a shudder from the fact you’d just fucked me like a starving man.”

“Starving is an understatement.”

His hand grazes up my thigh, stopping between my legs where he caresses tenderly. My stomach flips in anticipation, ready for his fingers to slide inside.