Chapter 287
**Sara**
I poked his arm. "Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment right now?"
His jaw tightened, but he kept staring at the TV.
"Oh my god, you are." I shifted closer. "What happened to the guy who was just teasing me about being homeless?"
"You seem pretty excited about me leaving," he finally said. "Planning parties, rearranging my wine collection. Maybe I should extend my stay in Australia."
I blinked. "Wait, what?"
"If you're so eager to have the place to yourself-"
"Tom." I grabbed his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. "I was joking. You know, that thing where people say things they don't mean to be funny?"
"Didn't sound like joking."
"Seriously?" I straddled his lap, blocking his view of the TV. "You think I want you to leave? The guy with the fancy coffee machine and the ridiculously comfortable bed?"
"So you're just using me for my amenities?" His hands found my hips despite his attempt to maintain his brooding expression.
"Obviously." I leaned closer, my lips brushing against his ear. "And maybe a few other things."
"Like what?" His fingers tightened on my hips.
I rolled my hips against his, feeling him respond immediately.
His breath hitched, and I felt satisfied at breaking through his brooding act.
"You're being very naughty," Tom growled against my neck. "Planning parties while I'm gone, threatening my wine collection..."
"What are you going to do about it?" I challenged, rolling my hips again.
His hands gripped my thighs. "I think someone needs to be punished for even thinking about rearranging my wines. And for being so eager to see me leave."
I pulled back, fixing him with a glare. "Excuse me? You're the one abandoning me to fly halfway across the world."
"It's work," he protested, but his hands were already sliding up under my skirt. "Important contracts-"
"Oh yes, very important." I mimicked his voice. "So important you have to leave your poor, homeless girlfriend all alone in your big, empty apartment."
His eyes darkened. "Girlfriend?"
Crap. The word had slipped out without permission. "I mean- your homeless charity case. Whatever."
"No, no." His fingers traced patterns on my thighs. "Let's go back to that girlfriend comment."
"Nothing to go back to." I tried to distract him by grinding against him again. "We were discussing your punishment, remember?"
"Were we?" His hands stilled my hips. "Because I distinctly remember someone calling herself my girlfriend."
"You're hearing things." I leaned in to kiss him, but he pulled back.
"Am I?" That infuriating smirk was back. "Because I'm pretty sure-"
I crashed my lips into his lips, cutting off whatever smug observation he was about to make. His hands tightened on my hips as he kissed me back, and I felt his smile against my lips.
We could deal with accidental girlfriend comments later. Much, much later.
His lips moved against mine, stealing my breath and any coherent thoughts about accidental relationship labels. The world narrowed down to the feeling of his hands on my body and the way he pulled me closer like he couldn't get enough.
When he finally broke the kiss, I was dizzy and breathless. His thumb traced my lower lip, those piercing eyes studying my face.
"Will you miss me when I'm gone tomorrow?"
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through my chest at his question. "Miss you? Please. I'll be too busy crushing it at work to even notice you're gone."
His fingers traced lazy circles on my thighs. "Is that so?"
"Absolutely. I've got reports to analyze, meetings to attend, spreadsheets to conquer." I ticked off each item on my fingers. "Oh, and on Sunday, I'm going to my parents' for dinner."
"Parents' dinner?" Tom's eyebrows shot up. "That sounds serious."
"Trust me, it's not by choice. Mom called earlier and basically issued a royal decree. I swear she missed her calling as a military commander."
His hands traced up my sides. "Will you tell her about staying at my place?"
I snorted. "Why would I? I'm just crashing here temporarily while you're gone. It's not like-"
"Not like what?" His eyes gleamed with that dangerous mix of amusement and challenge. "Not like you just called yourself my girlfriend two minutes ago?"
"I did not!" Heat crept up my neck. "That was a slip of the tongue."
"A Freudian slip, perhaps?"
"You're impossible." I tried to climb off his lap, but his hands held me firmly in place. "And anyway, what would I even say to my mom? 'Hey, by the way, I'm staying at this guy's place while he's in Australia because he has a fancy coffee machine'?"
"Don't forget the comfortable bed."
"Oh yes, how could I forget? 'Mom, he has Egyptian cotton sheets and memory foam pillows. It's totally innocent.'"
Tom chuckled. "You could just tell her the truth."
"The truth?" I raised an eyebrow. "That I'm sleeping with my professor, who happens to be a billionaire's son and has a marriage deadline hanging over his head? Yeah, that'll go over great at Sunday dinner."
Tom's fingers traced along my spine, making it hard to maintain my indignant expression. "Well, it is the truth, isn't it?"
"That's not the point." I shifted on his lap, trying to gather my thoughts. "The point is, my mom would have a heart attack. First, she'd freak out about the age difference—"
"Which is hardly scandalous."
"Then she'd google you and your family—"
"Already preparing for the background check?" His lips twitched.
"And then she'd start planning our wedding."
Tom's eyes sparkled with dangerous glint. "That's some interesting progress we're making here. First, you call yourself my girlfriend, and now you're thinking about weddings?"
"In your dreams." I smacked his chest. "The only progress happening here is my progress toward insanity from dealing with you."
"Really?" His hands slid up my back. "Because I distinctly remember someone getting very comfortable in my apartment. Moving in, rearranging my wine collection, planning wild parties..."
"That's called squatting, not progress." I tried to maintain my stern expression, but his wandering hands were making it difficult. "And anyway, you're the one with the marriage deadline, not me."
"But you're the one bringing up weddings."
"I was talking about my mom's reaction!" I huffed, trying to wiggle free from his grip, but his hands held me firmly in place.
"Sure you were." His thumbs traced circles on my hips. "Just like you were 'just talking' when you called yourself my girlfriend earlier. And let's not forget how enthusiastically you played the role of Mrs. Blackwood at that resort."
Heat crept up my neck. "That was different! We were just playing along because of the mix-up." I paused, then added with a smirk, "You did make quite the convincing husband. All those romantic gestures, the champagne, the way you carried me over the threshold..."
"If I recall correctly," Tom's fingers traced patterns on my thigh, "you weren't exactly complaining about playing the blushing bride either. Something about how comfortable that king-sized bed was?"
"The bed was nice." I tried to keep my voice casual, but memories of that weekend flooded back. "And maybe I enjoyed the room service. And the spa. And..." I bit my lip, remembering how his hands had felt on my skin that night.
"And?" His eyes darkened as he watched me squirm.
"And maybe I enjoyed other things too." I buried my face in his neck to hide my blush. "Happy now?"
"Almost." His hands slid up my back. "Now tell me the truth – will you miss me when I'm in Australia?"
I pulled back to look at him, ready with another sarcastic comment, but something in his expression made me pause. Behind that playful smirk was a hint of vulnerability that made my chest tight.
"I might miss you," I admitted reluctantly. "A tiny bit. Like, microscopic, really. Barely noticeable."
"A microscopic bit?" His eyebrows shot up.
"Okay, fine. Maybe slightly more than microscopic." I rolled my eyes. "But don't let it go to your head. I just got used to having you around, that's all."
Tom's face softened. "I'll miss you too." His thumb traced my bottom lip. "More than slightly."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He pulled me closer. "Who else is going to threaten my wine collection and plan wild parties in my absence?"
"I'm sure you could find someone." I wrapped my arms around his neck. "There must be plenty of homeless women out there dying to reorganize your precious wines."
"True, but none of them scrunch their nose quite as adorably as you do when they lie."
"I do not scrunch my nose!" I protested, definitely not scrunching my nose.
"You're doing it right now."
"I am not!" I covered my nose with my hand, which only made Tom laugh harder.
"Now you're just making it more obvious." His fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling my hand away. "Let me see that adorable scrunch."
"There is no scrunch!" I tried to turn my face away, but he caught my chin.
"Hmm." His thumb traced my jawline. "I think I need a closer look."
Before I could protest, his lips crashed into mine. The kiss was deep and hungry, making me forget all about nose scrunches and denials. My fingers tangled in his hair as he pulled me tighter against him.
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