Page 18 of Levi

We’re home.

It’s like a switch flips, and Levi goes from coasting through the race to chasing the finish line with me, his thrusts getting more and more intense as he angles my hips just right to hit that deep spot that has me close to detonating.

“Fuck,” I moan out. “I’m going to come,” I tell him as my nails dig into his back.

“Come for me then, Q,” he says, his thumb finding my clit and putting the perfect amount of pressure to have me seeing stars.

“Show me what a little slut you are for my cock. Scream so loud no one will question who this pussy belongs to,” Levi gasps as he starts thrusting recklessly, until all at once we’re both tumbling over the edge into ecstasy.

My body feels electric. Every touch, every whisper against my skin, feels euphoric, and he keeps going until we’re both spent.

As soon as he’s finished, Levi collapses onto me, his entire body weight falling down against me as we both fight for air—but if this is how I go out, I’ll happily accept it. The feel of his chest slowly rising and falling meshes with my own breath until we are an intertwined mess of limbs slowly moving as one.

“You sure we can’t keep doing this?” he mumbles as he finally rolls off me, taking the condom off and tossing it in the garbage before pulling me into him as he settles on his side.

“You know we can’t,” I whisper, my eyes still closed as I soak in his warmth. We often lay like this for a few moments before Levi either decides to fuck me again or rolls over to go to sleep. It sucks that we don’t spend the night cuddling, soaking in each other's warm embrace, but it helps keep my feelings shoved down, locked away in a box.

I’m more terrified of opening it than I would be of going on a ship in the North Sea. Okay, that’s a lie. I’ve seen the videos. I’ve been on that side of social media. I would not do it.

You wouldn’t catch me on a ship in the North Sea for any amount of money.

“No, we shouldn’t. It’s not that we can’t,” he says. I open my eyes and lock onto his, and damn, I always forget how perfect he looks.

“Same difference. Either way, we both know we shouldn’t do this again…at least not while we’re fake dating. That’s a recipe for disaster. It’ll just be too complicated,” I tell him, half-expecting him to fight me on it.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not sure who made you the fun police, but they definitely deserve to be fired,” Levi grumbles before rolling onto his back, my body immediately missing the warmth of his closeness.

I’m not sure how long we lie there in silence before Levi suddenly sits up.

“Why do you have so much stuff in your hotel?”

Fuck.

“I don’t have a ton of stuff,” I say, closing my eyes because if I can’t see it, maybe I’m not exactly lying.

“You liar,” he says as he stands up, his muscles flexing in his back as he moves, making me want to climb him like a tree all over again. “You have suitcases—multiple suitcases. Plus, you used the closet. Who the fuck uses the closet in a hotel unless it’s for a dress or a suit or whatever bullshit needs to be hung?” He keeps scanning the room until his eyes widen with shock. “Are you fuckinglivingin a hotel, Quinn?” Levi asks, turning to face me with his jaw clenched.

Why is he acting like I just kicked a puppy or something equally awful, not like I’m just staying in a hotel.

Quirking an eyebrow, I stare at him for a moment, but he doesn’t back down.

“Quinn. Answer the fucking question.”

“Yes, Levi, I’m living in a fucking hotel,” I snap, rolling over and pulling the covers back up. At this point, if he’s not staying the night, he can see himself out. “Is that what you wanted to fucking hear?”

“Yeah, Quinn, I wanted to hear that you were living in a fucking hotel. What about your uncle? Ally? No one had a place for you to stay?”

“You think I want to stay with my fucking sister? How about not.” I grimace at the thought. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’d rather stab my eye out.”

“You’re being fucking ridiculous. How did you think I would be okay with you staying in a hotel?” he says.

The fuck?

“I’m sorry, what did I do that gave you the impression that I gave a fuck whether or not you were okay with me staying here?” I say, sitting up on the bed, one hand holding the sheet to cover my breasts, like the man didn’t just have his hands and mouth on damn near every inch of my body.

“Really, Quinn?” he says with an agitated tone. Standing beside the bed, his hip pressed against the wall, he glares down at me. It’d look almost intimidating if he wasn’t completely naked, his hard cock jutting out while he scolds me. “How about when you decided we needed to fake date? How about then?”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with where I’m living.”

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