Page 46 of The Fake Boyfriend Fiasco

She was going to murder Nik. Brutally.

He’d barely paid attention throughout his last game, but now that she was on the pitch he’d come over all David Beckham. Did David Beckham still play football? She wasn’t entirely sure. In fact, due to a tragic lack of oxygen, Aria wasn’t entirely sure about anything. Her brain had shrivelled up like a walnut in an effort to keep all of her muscles going.

“Come on, chrysí mou!” Nik jogged by and smacked her on the arse. “Keep moving!”

“Fuck off!” she managed. The words were more mangled gasps than bitten out insults, but she followed them up with a glare.

Nik slowed his pace, jogging backwards as he grinned at her. “You’re doing great. You’re a natural. You just have to go for it. Stop holding back.”

Stop holding back? What, did he want her to throw herself around like he was? “I am wearing a bikini!”

His gaze darkened as he swept a slow, hungry look over her body. “Yeah. I noticed.”

“Aria! Stop fraternising with the enemy!” Georgia snapped as she sprinted past, dribbling the ball as if it were glued to her feet. “Get in the box!”

Ugh. Rolling her eyes and girding her loins, Aria ran.

* * *

“You’re an absolute bastard.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

Aria scowled up at the ceiling as Nik sat beside her, his strong hands undoing the ties of her bikini. “Stop fucking humouring me. I mean it! You’re a bastard and I hate you.”

He released the last tie on her bikini bottoms and slid the fabric out from under her body, leaving her completely naked. “You already said that.”

“And I’m going to keep saying it until my muscles stop feeling like pulverised bloody meat!”

“Do what you must, agapi mou.” He was trying not to smile, but she could hear the barely contained amusement in his rich, low voice. A second later, she felt it, his curved lips gliding over her lower belly.

“Will you behave yourself? I’m absolutely dripping with sweat.”

He replaced his lips with his tongue, swiping it over the tan line just above her mound. “Clearly, I don’t mind.”

She snorted and propped herself up on her elbows, glaring at the top of his head. “I can’t believe you made me play and didn’t even let me win.”

“How could I let you win,” he murmured, his lips moving down to her pussy, “when it’s a team sport?”

“You’re supposed to find a way! You—ahhhh, fuck, Nik.” Her indignation was cut off as if a switch had been flicked. Which, if her clit counted as a switch, it had. Nik’s tongue parted her folds and found that tight little bud with unnerving accuracy, swirling a hot, wet circle around it. Aria’s breath caught as arousal burst to life inside her, forcing her tired legs to fall open.

At which point, Nik stopped licking her and sat up.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she demanded.

He laughed. “I thought you wanted a shower?”

“I did want a shower! Until you started stripping me—”

“I stripped you for the shower.” He gave her a wide-eyed, innocent look. “I’m just trying to make up for the match. I know you hate losing.” God, he was adorable, with that sweet, wicked mouth and those huge dark eyes. The prick.

“I hate losing? You’re the sore loser in this relationship, sugar.” Aria rolled her eyes and clambered off the bed. “Fine. In the shower I go, to masturbate all alone.”

“Woah, hold on a second.” Nik managed to sound alarmed, mildly offended, and turned on, all at once. “I didn’t say anything about alone.”

She shot him an arch look over her shoulder. “So? Maybe I want to be alone.”

“Aria,” he growled. God, he was too easy. Just as her feet left the bedroom carpet and landed on the bathroom’s cool tiles, his arm snaked its way around her waist. She looked up and found their reflection in the room’s huge mirror, Nik’s body bracketing hers, his gaze devouring her nakedness. “You don’t want to be alone.”

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