Free Dirty Trick by Christine Bell

sentence. She just buried her face into his neck and laughed.
    He tried to catch his breath and respond, but then something tickled his nose. He reached up a hand to find the right side of his mask hanging limply against his skin. He froze, his already hammering heart speeding up to triple time. Between the steam and the sweat, they’d managed to screw the mask right off his face.
    She shifted, starting to pull back, but he held her close, panic making his throat constrict. “Grace, listen. I know when I tell you this—” he could barely choke the words out “—you’re going to think it’s a blow off. But I’m asking you to trust me that it’s not, all right?”
    She stiffened in his arms, and he almost swore out loud. Already she was steeling herself, slipping away from him, but what choice did he have? If he told her the truth now, she would never forgive him. He just needed to buy a little time. Time to figure out what to do next. Time for her to miss good old Catman. Time for her to get used to the idea that she wasn’t just ready for a new relationship, she wanted one. With him.
    “Say it, whatever it is.” Her voice was grim, and he wanted to howl in frustration. He’d needed maybe ten more minutes out of that glue. Ten. Minutes.
    He took a breath and said what he had to say. “I have to go. I was supposed to meet a buddy half an hour ago, but I was so distracted with you, I lost track of time.”
    He expected a way different reaction than the one he got, like a dirty look and a verbal smackdown. Maybe even a slap on the face for the apparent wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. But leave it to Gracie to take his words at face value.
    “Oh. Well, that’s okay. I wasn’t expecting a proposal or anything.” She struggled against him in earnest now, and he released her, cupping his hand to his face to hold the mask in place. “But did you think it was…good? Like, what we did?” She was aiming for casual, but her eyes were filled with uncertainty.
    God, he was an asshole. And she trusted him. “It wasn’t good. It was excellent.” He wished he didn’t have the stupid contacts in so she could at least see the truth of that in his eyes.
    She must have believed him, though, because a smile lit her whole face. “Do you think you maybe want to do it again sometime?”
    “Definitely. Absolutely. In fact, if I had my way, we’d be doing it again right now.” He flexed his hips to emphasize his point.
    “You can call me,” she said, before hurriedly adding, “if you want.”
    “I want. There is no question of that.” Already, this whole thing was spiraling out of control. The plan—what little of it there was—had been to get close to her for the night, romance her some, and then tell her the truth and how he’d felt about her. But he needed a little more time with her. Time to show her how good it could be between them so she could see that it was worth it to take a chance on him. One night wasn’t going to cut it. He had no idea how he was going to make it happen, but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it.
    He took care of the condom while she dressed and then got dressed himself, turning his back so she couldn’t see his drooping mask. When he turned around again and asked for her phone number, she rattled it off while he pretended to add it to his contact list with his free hand.
    “Got it,” he said and slipped the mercifully non-descript mobile back into his pocket.
    He had to get out of there, but he found he couldn’t stop looking at her with her sexy pink cheeks and swollen mouth. A fine sheen of sweat shone on her skin and her hair was a tumbled mess. She was the stuff wet dreams were made of, and if he’d had a garage, there’d be a calendar of her hanging on the wall.
    She shifted beneath his intense gaze. “Since you’re going, I guess I’ll go back to the party now and see how Serena’s making out.”
    “I’ll walk you back to your friend so you’re not alone.” He