Page 122 of Faking Forever
His words startled a repulsed little laugh from her.
“Ew. No, I wasn’t going to answer any of their calls or texts right now. I was going to put my phone on silent, but thanks for the visual I didn’t want or need.”
He abraded his stubbled jaw against the delicate skin of her neck and she squealed.
“You’re welcome.” His words were smothered against the underside of her jaw where he pressed a kiss.
He suddenly went still and lifted his head, eyes gleaming with suspicion.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed.
He shook his head and reached for his phone on the other nightstand.
“I just had an awful thought,” he murmured, face and voice terrifyingly serious.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “What?”
He shook his head and swiped through his phone.
“I was thinking…” He paused. Peered at his screen. Then nodded and tapped on his phone again. “That if your brothers are dummies, and your father is Darth Vader, what am I?”
Oh.Shit.
And then, before she could a single thing to stop him, pushedSendon whatever he’d been typing on his screen.
There was a second’s delay before a strident siren blared. Followed by a man’s voice portentously announcing,“Warning! This is an Asshole Alert!”
Smith’s eyes widened for a second before he absolutely lost it, howling in hearty laughter.
“Oh Jesus,” he managed between gasps. “That’s so much better—wait,worse?—than I was expecting.”
Kenny grinned and lifted her phone to read the text that he’d just sent her.
Smith: Oh, sweetheart, you’re so fucking busted!
She laughed and he snagged her around the waist and dragged her down on top of him. They playfully kissed for a couple of minutes before he tucked his lips into the hollow of her neck and licked.
“Hmm. I’m starving.”
“For food?” she asked, then yelped when he nipped the cord of her neck playfully.
“Yes, for food,” he clarified, after he’d kissed her stinging skin.
“I had to ask,” she pouted, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. The damned man was suddenly all arms, and shecouldn’t quite find her way out of his embrace. “Because Littler Smittler seems to have a different opinion.”
“Christ,” he complained, dropping his arms and watching as she scrambled off the bed. “I think my cock and balls have just shriveled up and retreated all the way back up into my groin in protest. What the fuck was that you just called it?”
She repeated the silly phrase and the look of abject horror on his face was hilarious.
“You are absolutely not to call it that.Everagain,” he decreed.
“What do you want me to call it?”
“I don’t know…” He shrugged helplessly, getting up and dragging on a pair of boxers, while she shrugged into his discarded T-shirt. She gave him her most innocent smile when he darted her a warning look as she lovingly smoothed his Archie and the Gangvintage shirt down over her slim thighs.
Choosing to ignore the potential theft for now, he returned to the subject at hand. “Anything, but that. Cumsalot? Sexcalibur? Sir Lanceacock?”
“I’m sensing a trend,” she noted mildly, fighting back her laughter.
