Page 24 of Faking the Play

“More foreplay next time,” I promised before I realized what it meant.

She nodded. “That’ll be good too.”

She took a slow, deep breath, and then, as she let it out, she took the rest of me into her. As she settled on my lap, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her still while I tried to keep from coming right then. She pressed her face against the side of my neck, her body shaking.

Her pussy was the best thing I’d ever felt, but I knew things felt more intense because she wasn’t just some random hookup. This was Amelia. My Lia. And being with her like this not only felt amazing, it felt natural.

But we didn’t have the time to drag it out, no matter how much I would’ve liked to. As soon as she started to rock back and forth, I grabbed onto her ass and took charge. She clung to my shoulders as I drove up into her, going so deep and so hard that I worried I’d hurt her, but her whimper turned into a plea.

“More. Please, Ryan. More.”

“Move with me, Lia,” I said. “Just like dancing.”

She nodded without turning her face away from my throat. I lifted her a bit and then thrust into her, grinding her down on me for a moment before repeating it. She matched my rhythm quickly and added a roll of her hips, a clenching of her pussy around my cock. Her breath was hot on my skin as we moved together, our pace getting more and more frantic as we raced toward release. Pressure built inside me until I could barely hold back the explosion.

“Close,” Amelia gasped.

“Thank fuck.” I grabbed the back of her neck and held her in place as I slammed into her. “Come for me, Lia. Let me feel you come on my cock. Want that hot cunt of yours to squeeze me until I pop.”

If I shocked her with the dirty talk, she didn’t show it. If anything, it seemed to turn her on more because she started to writhe on me, desperate, greedy sounds falling from her mouth even as she began to lick and bite at my neck.

“Now, Lia! Dammit! Come!”

She let out a cry that sounded a lot like my name and that was all I needed. I lost myself in a wave of pleasure and sensation that hit all of my senses at once. The scent of apples and cinnamon from her shampoo. The sight of her slender bodyshuddering in my arms. The taste of her kiss lingering on my tongue. The sounds she made. And the feel of her. Fuck. The feel of her.

I was so completely screwed.

Chapter thirteen

Amelia

Iwasn’t sure which was worse, how sore I was from yesterday, or how awkward it was to come over to the guys’ apartment after Ryan and I slept together. I’d gotten myself worked up to the point where I was almost nauseous, and it was all for nothing because when Ethan opened the door, I found out that Ryan and Logan were both out at some extra class thing that would keep them away from the apartment for a while.

Perfect for helping Ethan with his presentation because we wouldn’t have to worry about being interrupted. And it should’ve been perfect to calm me down, but now that I wasn’t freaking out about seeing Ryan again, I started freaking out about whether or not Ethan knew what Ryan and I had done and if he did, how he felt about it and then if Logan—

“Earth to Amelia.”

Ethan’s voice jolted me out of my head. “What?”

He laughed. “You were staring off into space for like, a full minute. I know this isn’t the most exciting thing. Do you need to take a break?”

I shook my head to clear it and smiled even as I had to force my shoulders to relax. “Sorry. I’m just tired. I’ll focus better.”

“I think we need to take a break,” Ethan said, standing up and stretching.

His T-shirt rode up, exposing a very nice set of washboard abs that I would love to trace with my tongue…and I was a horrible person. I’d literally had sex with one of Ethan’s best friends less than twenty-four hours ago and now I was ogling his abs.

“Behave yourself,” I muttered.

“Did you say something?”

“No.” Heat flooded my face. I’d gotten so much better at thinking before I spoke, but being around the guys again turned me right back into that awkward little girl who spent her whole childhood hearing that she talked too much and said things that should’ve been kept inside her head.

“Here.” He handed me a beer. “I know you don’t drink beer that often, but something tells me you need it. I just hope it’s not because I’m that bad.”

“No,” I said quickly. “No, of course not.”

“Do you want to talk about something random?” he asked. “We could talk about going on a date.”

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