The Player and the Pixie
Page 90

“I’m tasting you.”
Lucy sighed a nervous sounding laugh. “Why are you doing that?”
“I don’t know,” I responded honestly. “Because I want to and I can.”
“Are you trying to distract me?”
“From what?”
“From that fact that I just spilled my guts to you and you’ve said nothing about it. Not even a measly, ‘Thanks, Lucy. Thanks for being in love with my snobby arse.’”
I started to laugh but then had to stop, wincing. It hurt my ribs. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“It would serve you right if I tickled you.”
My one eye flew open. “Don’t you dare.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Well, I won’t. Because I love you. And I don’t want to see you hurt.”
I slid my hand up her arm, over her shoulder, threading my fingers in her hair. “I wish I had a picture of us together.”
She grinned at me, almost shyly. “I have one, if you want it.”
“You have one?” I tried to remember when we’d taken a picture together, or at least one she hadn’t deleted.
Lucy reached for the nightstand and handed me my phone. “Type in your passcode.”
I did as instructed then returned it to her. She concentrated on my screen as she said, “I’m just going to log into my email. I sent it to myself. You’re not allowed to tease me about it, but I made it the desktop image for my laptop.”
Finished with her task, she showed me the phone again and my mouth parted in surprise. It was the picture I’d taken that first night, when I’d forced her into having dinner with me, unable to help myself.
She’d ordered the tuna.
“I thought you deleted it.”
She shrugged, her smile wry. “I told you that because I didn’t want you to know that I fancied you.”
“So you kept it.”
“Yes.” She nodded once.
“And you looked at it every night.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Not every night.”
I wanted to smile at that, in fact I wanted to shout my discovery from the rooftops, but my cheek and ribs protested. I loved that she fancied me, the way I looked, enough to keep the image and risk discovery.
Did that make me vain? Probably. Oh well.
“I have something for you, too. Go look in the closet.” I held fast to my phone while she walked hesitantly to the bedroom closet. I heard her gasp as she pulled open the door, allowing my eyes to stray from the picture on my mobile so I could see the happy expression on her face.
“This is the coolest dress! Look how sparkly.” She held up the rainbow frock I’d purchased while out with Eilish. “But Sean, it’s really short. Is it a dress or a tunic?”
“A dress. The kind you should wear for me with no knickers.”
“I’d be arrested for indecency.” She grinned, hanging it back in the closet, her hands lingering on the sequin of the skirt. “I love it, but you didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. It reminded me of you. Will you wear it?”
“What? Now?” She glanced back at the dress.
“Now, later, soon.”
“Yes. Of course. But if I go out in it, I’ll be wearing knickers.”
I made a show of frowning, then motioned to her. “Come here. Please.”
She came immediately and leaned over me, looking concerned. “What? Why? Are you okay?”
My attention dropped to her lips. “I want to kiss the woman I love.”
They parted with surprise then curved into a huge smile. “You love me?”
I nodded, certain my grin mirrored hers. “I do.”
“You’re in love with me.” She leaned closer, her eyes wide, and happier than I’d ever seen her. I vowed to put that look in her eyes every day.
“I’m so in love with you.” I pulled her closer, curling my fingers around the long strands of her hair as she lowered.
She brushed a soft kiss over my mouth, giggling and grinning at me. “I can’t believe you’re in love with me.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” she said with wonder. “I just, I don’t know. It feels funny to say or think about. Like, Sean Cassidy, bubble-butted brute is head over heels in love with flaky Lucy Fitzpatrick. The most mismatched couple in the world.”
“We’re perfect together.” I smoothed a hand down her side and lifted her fancy dress, searching for the edge of her knickers and finding the sweet spot between her thighs.
She stiffened, her smile falling away. “What are you doing?”
“I want to taste you. Sit on my face, let me—”
She tried to back away, but I had a hold on her hair.
“No, no, no. You’re all bruised ribs and cuts. I’m taking care of you.”
“Then take care of me,” I whispered, releasing her hair and bringing her hand to my cock.
Her mouth fell open. “Are you ever not horny?”
“Only when I’m not with you. And even then I’m semi-hard, because I’m thinking of you.”
Lucy threw her head back and laughed. I allowed myself to chuckle, enjoying her free and easy smiles. As her laughter tapered off, her hand closed over my erection and stroked once.
“Rest now. More lessons later.”
As best I could, I lifted an eyebrow at this news. “You mean there’s more? More lessons?”