Page 107 of Fake Game

“It’s not your fault,” she whispers, peering up at me through her lashes.

“Doesn’t matter.” I kiss the third mark.

“Really, it’s not something you need to take responsibility for.”

“It is.” I kiss the fourth mark.

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is. You’re my responsibility, Deer.”

“Oh? And how is that?”

“Because you’re my fake girlfriend.”

She gives me a pitying smile, pulling her hand free from me. “I’m just your fake girlfriend when your family is around.”

“And what if I said I wanted you to be my fake girlfriend all the time?”

I need more than just a temporary fix. Ever since she moved out of the penthouse, the apartment has felt empty. Her presence is one that I’ve come to crave, and I don’t care what I have to do to keep her near—even if it’s taking this ruse one step further than necessary. I need an excuse to keep her close without scaring her off.

“Why?”

“It would keep the creeps off you for one. So shit like this doesn’t happen again.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know. That sounds messy.”

“It got messy the moment you licked your pussy juices off my fingers.”

“Oh Gods, do you have to say it like that?” She covers her face with her hands. “Juices is so, ugh.”

“Don’t get shy on me now.” I lean forward and nip at her fingers. “Would it be that bad to spend a little extra time with me?”

Those honey-brown eyes peek back at me through the gaps.

“We’re playing a dangerous game here, Jackson.”

“Yeah, but it’s our fake game. I won’t let you get hurt.”

“Promise?”

I reach out and hold her hand in mine, kissing her fingers. “Promise.”

TWENTY-NINE

DEER

I’m a goner.

Deep, sultry onyx eyes. A gruff yet sexy smile. Smooth skin corded with thick muscles. Strong hands and wicked fingers. Gods, fingers that touch and tease and taunt as they curl inside me.

A hand traces lightly up my thighs, and I arch into the feeling, inhaling the delicious scent of sage and cedarwood floating around me. Four strong fingers grip my ass as the thumb swirls lazily around my hipbone. I swing my leg up, bringing the body closer to me. My pussy brushes against something hard, and I rock into it. The friction between that and the material covering me hits a spot of aching tension that’s been present for days now.

More. I need more.

My hips continue to move, grinding for release. That grip begins to tighten, kneading into my ass. A deep groan reverberates against my chest, and it sends a shiver through my psyche.

“Dreaming about me?”

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