Page 5 of Fool Me Once

In that moment, when I know he’s on the other side of that door, ready to kill me, I can only think of one thing.

I think of Smith.

And I think of how he threw me away like trash, and now … this is my reality.

Her perfume is too strong, and her skin is almost slippery from whatever the fuck she lathered on it to make herself more desirable. Everything about this night is wrong, just like it has been with the countless women before this faceless one, who I’ll never remember after tonight.

With every thrust of my hips, my eyes squeeze a little tighter shut, and I shove her head harder against the pillow as her pussy begins to clench my cock.

Gemma.

I imagine it’s her hair my hand is tangled in and her heat that is wrapped around my hard dick. My balls tingle just before I come. Never once opening my eyes, I pour my seed into the condom, my entire body trembling as I keep imagining Gemma’s face pushed up against the pillow as she eagerly takes my dick, knowing it’s me she belongs to, not her fiancé she’s promised forever to now.

It doesn’t matter that it’s been six years. Every single memory is still vivid, right there in my brain, when it comes to her. Her soft skin. Her bright blue eyes. Her moans. Her sweet vanilla scent.

Everything.

It’s probably not the nicest thing to do—fuck a woman from the bar and pretend she’s someone else. But I was up front with her when she came on to me earlier. I told her I wasn’t interested in getting to know her and that I was in love with someone else. Still, even after that, she whispered in my ear that she wanted my cock when all I was trying to do was have a drink with some friends.

My cock stops twitching, and when her body weakens once her orgasm has passed, I can’t pull my cock from her heat fast enough. Because, like always, reality starts to set back in that Gemma could be doing the same thing right now with her fuckface fiancé.

I shouldn’t call him that. He might be a nice guy.

Who am I kidding? His name is fucking Richie. No one with the wordrichin their name could be nice.

She flips over, smiling at me and reaching for my hair, but I scoot off the bed. The last thing I want right now is some random person touching me, but I don’t want to be an asshole either.

Pulling my jeans on, I give her a small grin. “I told you, darlin’, it would have to be fast. I’ve gotta catch a ride home with some buddies.”

With her tits on full display and her blonde hair a mess, she pouts. “Come on, handsome,” she coos. “Don’t you have time for one more round?”

This is when the nausea hits because I realize I just fucked someone I can’t stand. The walls begin to close in around me, and I need to get the hell out of here. But she’s done absolutely nothing wrong, and I’m not going to treat her like she has.

So, I push the sick feeling down, lean forward, and kiss her cheek. “It was great meeting you, sweets. I’d better see myself out before my ride leaves the bar without me.”

There’s no mistaking the annoyance on her face, but I don’t wait around for her to try to convince me to stay before I exit her apartment, jog down the stairs, and head across the road to the bar, hoping my teammates are still there.

Six years after leaving the girl I loved, I’ve slept with more women than I care to count, but no one has ever made me want to leave Gemma Jones in the past.

She’s moved on though. Soon, she’ll be a wife to someone who isn’t me. And the thought of that alone fucking kills me.

My heart races in my chest, and even though my skin feels cold to the touch, my palms are sweaty. I’m pretty thankful I remembered to put on deodorant because I have the nervous sweats right now for two reasons. One, I’m going to a house filled with people I don’t know, with my face looking like I got attacked by a zombie. And two, I have to seehim.

Smith Sawyer—aka my childhood friend, first love, and the dude who fooled me into falling stupidly hard for him, only to bolt.

“Are you sure your brother knows I’m coming?” I mumble to Saylor, keeping my gaze fixed out the window.

I hate that my best friend is forcing me to come out tonight after I’ve been in Portland with her for only a few days. After everything went down with Richie and me, I couldn’t go back home to my parents. Saylor’s house was my only option.

The only problem is? She lives about ten minutes from her brother, Smith. Which means … Friendsgiving? Yeah, we have to attend that shit.

Or she has to attend, and she’s stuck bringing me because my life is in absolute shambles.

“He knows,” she says calmly, but also in anI don’t really give a shittone. “And even if he didn’t, fuck him. It’s not at his house. It’s at Kolt and Paige’s. And you’ll love Paige. She’s super sweet.”

“And Kolt?” I ask, noticing that she only said Paige was sweet. I spin my head toward her curiously. “Am I going to love him too? I mean … his name is kind of intimidating.Kolt.Not Kolton. Just straight-up Kolt.”

“Trust me, his name matches him perfectly.” She snorts. “He’s covered in tattoos. Uber muscular. And sort of grumpy. Gives off asshole vibes, but he really is nice somewhere deep,deepdown. He’s just … well, he’s Kolt. I don’t have a way to describe him other than that.”

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