Page 17 of The Fake Play

I had to lay back or I’d lose control completely. Part of me knew it wasn’t real, but I didn’t care. It was one hell of a fantasy, and I was going to enjoy myself.

I reach out, grasping her by the waist, pulling her close, just as reality begins to blur into my dream. Fuck. I’m not dreaming anymore. The pressure of my hand wrapped tight around my cock is the only thing keeping me tethered to the here and now.Sometime after I’d fallen asleep, she had left the bed, leaving nothing but cold space where her body had been.

But that was okay. I was still lost in the fantasy, in her. Eyes closed, chest rising and falling heavily. The images didn't fade; they morphed into something more intense as I drifted back to them.

In my head, Keke's cheeks were flushed, her breath coming in and out in ragged, sharp gasps. I rolled us over so I would be on top, burying myself deep. Her body surged as she came, throbbing and writhing beneath me. I devoured her sounds with a deep kiss. My balls tightened in pleasure, and a loud groan escaped me. There was no chance of holding back.Another groan. I was so close, so desperate for release, that nothing else mattered.

The door suddenly bursts open, the hall light blinding me.

“Luke, are you okay?” Keke's voice, sharp and laced with concern, cuts through the haze.

I freeze mid-stroke, my entire body stiffening. She stands at the door, eyes wide, her gaze landing on my groin for a split second before she spins around, her back to me. Her nightshirt twirls against the movement, almost enough for me to catch a glimpse of herass.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snap, my voice raspy with embarrassment and arousal. As much as I didn't like being watched at the bar, this was worse. I was as kinky as the next guy, but I was no exhibitionist.

“I heard a noise,” she stammers, her shoulders tense. “You had a lot to drink and I thought you might be getting sick or something.”

I realize with dawning horror thatthe sound she must have heard was me moaning. Jesus. Of all the ways this living situation could have gone wrong, this had to be the worst. I was not a quiet man in the sack, and if she could hear me from herbedroom on the other side of the condo… “You heard me from your room?”

“No, I was in the kitchen, making tea. Luke, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have barged in, except I thought something was wrong.”

“You thought something was wrong? Well, it wasn’t but something's definitely wrong now.”

“I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I mean, I'm sorry,” Keke stumbles over her words, clearly as embarrassed as I am. She bolts out of the room before I can say anything else, the door slamming shut behind her.

I lay there for a second, still hard, still aching for release. Her reaction—the flushed cheeks, the shaky voice—it did something, made the fantasy even better.

How fucked up is that?

My mind flashes back to the image of her. This time, I imagine those cheeks being flushed from exertion, from being with me, from losing herself in the moment. I needed to see that, even if only in my mind. Keke would never admit she was into me in the real world but it was my fantasy.

I'm not done. I'm not one to leave things unfinished.

Gripping myself tighter, I close my eyes and let the fantasy take over once more. I'm certain she wouldn't rush back in this time. Not unless she wanted to join me.

The thought is enough to bring me to the edge. Sinking deep into her, feeling her hot breath on my face as I work her body. In my fantasy, I flip her over onto her hands and knees, her perfect face buried in the pillows while I plow her from behind, my arm wrapped around her waist so I can feel her tits while I have her from behind. The earlier pressure that had built up comes crashing through me, and when it’s finally over, I lay there panting, staring up at the ceiling.

She was going to hate me for what I was about to do. Hell, I'm not even sure if I like myself right now.

After cleaning up and pulling myself together, I yank on some lounge pants and walk to her room. I can’t just leave things as is. I knock on the door, but there’s no response. “Keke, are you home?” I call out, trying to keep my voice light. “Open up, we need to talk.”

“I'm fine.” Her muffled voice comes through from other side of the door. She doesn’t sound fine.

“Are you going to hide in there forever?” I tease, leaning against the door frame.

There’s a long pause before the door creaks open, just a sliver. Her face appears in the gap, cheeks still pink, eyes darting everywhere except at me. Her gaze settles on my chin, unable to make eye contact. Her voice is tight with embarrassment. “What do you want?”

I grin, leaning in closer. “Just want to ensure you weren't too traumatized by what you saw.”

“I didn't see anything. Iheardsomething. Big difference.”

“Oh, come on. You're telling me you didn't even take a peek?”

Her cheeks flush a deep red. “I didn't peek, Luke. I'm a professional. Are you saying you’d take advantage of the situation if this happened the other way around?”

The thought of catching her touching herself is almost enough to wake the beast in me. I damn near moan but cleared my throat instead. “Are you saying there’s the possibility I’ll catch you pleasuring yourself?”

“No.”

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