Page 121 of Surprisingly Us

She extends her left hand out to me, fingers spread so I can place the ring on her finger.

“Yes, Rhys,” she sighs, “I accept your fake engagement proposal.”

I wait for the relief. The moment that the weight lifts off my shoulders knowing I’ve patched things up with Lettie and she’s agreed to continue our fake engagement.

It doesn’t come.

The car ride to Lettie’s apartment is quiet, and all too soon we’re pulling up to the curb outside. I hold the car door for her, then walk her up the stairs.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” I ask, trying to find a way back to the easy companionship we’d shared before I blew everything up last night. “Do you want to hang out? I can bring over Mo or we can go out on the boat?”

She gives me a tight smile. “I’m busy.”

She doesn’t elaborate. I’m desperate to ask what she’s doing, but unfortunately, even the title of fake fiancé doesn’t give me the right.

Even though our arrangement is continuing, and she’s accepted the ring back, everything between us is different now and I fucking hate it.

“Have a good night.” She gives me a quick wave before slipping inside her front door.

With Lettie gone, I glance at my watch. It’s three in the afternoon, what the fuck am I supposed to do with myself for the rest of the day, and tomorrow for that matter?

Those thoughts alone have me groaning inwardly. This is why I’ve avoided relationships and kept things casual. Before Lettie, I would never be so wrapped up in a woman that I needed to be with her constantly. Somehow in the last two weeks, I’ve become reliant on our friendship, and seeing Lettie every day. Lettie and I are friends, nothing more, so why does the fact that she’s pulling away bother me so much?

CHAPTER 35

Rhys

A curtain of raven hair surrounds me. Soft lips press against the shell of my ear.

“Show me, Rhys,” Lettie whispers as she sinks down onto my cock. “Please make me come.”

She leans back and I take in the sight of her straddling me. Her small tits with tight rosy nipples bounce as she lifts herself up and down. I watch where my cock splits her slick pussy. She’s drenched, and each drag coats me in her wetness. So wet. So tight. So fucking perfect.

My hands grip her hips. My fingers digging into her toned ass, shifting her forward so her clit rubs against the base of my cock.

“Oh, fuck. Yes, Rhys.”

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out.

“I’m coming,” she moans.

Like a clenched fist, her pussy clamps down around my cock. The pulse of her orgasm has me spilling inside her.

I reach for her, but she climbs off me and starts collecting her clothes.

“Thanks for that.” She pecks me on the cheek before getting dressed. “I knew you’d be the perfect man for the job.”

Then she’s gone.

My eyes fly open on a strained pant. My hard cock is in my hand, my cum in a puddle on my stomach. Lettie’s image is gone, vanished into the depths of my mind.

That’s how I wake up now.

Every. Fucking. Day.

I grab a t-shirt off the floor and wipe myself up, then toss it into the hamper on my way to the bathroom.

“Stop,” I tell my reflection, but it doesn’t matter.

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