An evil plan forms in my mind, and I wonder how far I can push him by suggesting the wildest, sexiest books I can think of. "How about this one?" I stop in front of a section of alien romance, ripping the romance band-aid right off. "You will love what the main male lead can do with his tail."
“Hmm," he takes the book out of my hand. His eyes scan the cover. "It's perfect," he winks, causing my knees to weaken from the pure sex appeal radiating off of him.
We spend the next two hours looking for the perfect books for him to read. Our arms are full of books by the time we get to the checkout line.
"Oh my God! You're Milo Harris!" a woman who appears to be in her mid to late forties yells, pushing her way to stand next to Milo as the cashier grabs her phone from under the counter. But before the woman can lunge at him, he easily sidesteps her, pulling me close to his side while the cashier snaps a picture of us.
"Nice to meet you, ma'am." Milo smiles at the woman, still trying to push her way closer to him. "Can you ring us up?" Milo nods to the cashier, handing her his credit card. "My fiancée and I are in a hurry."
Both women stop what they are doing to glare at me. But I've been around enough mean girls to know how to handle myself. "Yes, Milo and I have a special evening plan, and it isn't even his birthday, if you know what I mean."
The cashier finishes bagging our books, slides Milo's credit card for payment, then hands him the bags. "Have a nice night." Her monotone sharply contrasts with her cheerful words.
We step through the door as the second woman yells for Milo one last time. "Here." she says, throwing something at Milo thatsuspiciously looks like underwear. Thankfully, Milo dodges the panties as we make our escape to his car.
The drive home is filled with so much sexual energy that I'm regretting not stopping for new batteries for my vibrator. I wasn't lying when I told Milo I need new ones. I guess I'll have to take care of myself the old-fashioned way, with my fingers.
He parks in my driveway, and I take a deep breath. Exhale. Moment of truth. Do I invite him in, or do we say our goodbyes and part ways here?
I'm about to ask him if he wants to come inside when he reaches over and takes my hand—lacing his fingers through mine. "I had a really good time tonight. I'm sorry some of the female fans can get a little crazy."
“It's okay. I've never had a woman throw her panties at any of my dates before. It was definitely a first.” I laugh, recalling the horror on Milo's face when a pair of black lace panties flew through the air, almost hitting him in the face. If he weren't such a world-class athlete, the underwear definitely would have hit its mark. I'm not even sure how she managed to get her panties off that quickly — it was impressive, to say the least.
"Yeah, well, for me it's a hazard of the job."
"Maybe if you weren't so irresistible, you wouldn't have strange women throwing their undergarments at you." I tease, enjoying the lighter side of Milo's humor.
"Oh, you think that's funny, do you?" Milo unclicks his seatbelt, then mine. His motive is still unclear.
A heartbeat passes before he pounces. His fingers find my underarms, and he starts to tickle me.
"No fair," I say between giggles, my body squirming to escape his touch. Little does he know that growing up with two sisters has taught me exactly how to fight back against a tickle attack.
He shifts his body, his hands breaking contact, giving me the opening I've been waiting for. I don't think, I react, diving across the seat and straddling him in record time, catching him off guard.
"My turn." I lurch forward, placing my hands under his arms and giving him a taste of his own medicine. But I miscalculated. Having a tickle fight with your sisters as a kid is a lot different than having a tickle fight with a grown man who can melt your panties with one look.
My hands freeze on his body as our eyes meet. The lust in his gaze is pure and simple—he wants me, and he wants me now. He captures my mouth with his, and it's nothing like I thought our first kiss would be.
This is a fake relationship. The kiss should be dull, not earth-shattering.
His hands slide over my hips as he grabs my ass in his firm grip, pressing me against his hard length. I rock my hips back and forth, the sensation of his touch sending heatwaves straight tomy pussy. "Do you want to come inside?" I break the kiss long enough to ask. But before he can answer, headlights appear in the rearview mirror, causing us to break apart like a couple of teenagers getting caught having sex.
My knee hits the dashboard as I scramble back into my seat on the passenger side. I glance out the side window just in time to see Brooke briskly walking to the house, not even giving us a second look, still wearing that trench coat.
“Um, I'll walk you to the door," Milo says, completely breaking the spell surrounding us that I had hoped to salvage when Brooke made a dent in.
“That's okay. I can make it to my front door by myself," I sigh, already planning Brooke's demise at ruining what would have been an epic night by the feel of Milo's huge cock against my pussy.
“Nonsense. It's dark outside. Something could happen to you, and I'd feel bad if I let that happen.” My heart races faster. He really cares about me. "Besides, the press might be lurking in the bushes, and how would that look if I let my fiancée walk to the door alone?"
And there it is, my hope crashing and burning as it lands in a heap at my feet. "Right. We wouldn't want it to get back to your sponsors that you're not a loving fiancée."
The sarcasm in my tone is lost behind the closing of the car door as Milo jogs around the front of his SUV to help me out.
He opens the door, extending one hand to me while his other hand keeps it from slamming shut. I take his hand in mine, and the zap of electricity shooting up my arm feels unexpected but not unwelcome.
Sliding out of the car, I get a strange feeling that someone is watching us. But after a quick look around, I decide it's just my imagination.
