Page 65 of The Fake Date Agreement

I blush even hotter, and his smile grows.

I should be recording this conversation for posterity, playing it back to Max to confirm it actually happened, or maybe charging people to listen to it because his accent is a turn-on unlike any other.

“Thanks,” I say, trying to sound unaffected. Pointless, really, with my inability to look him in the eye.

His soft smile will be the end of me.

“Gatinha, you have the most beautiful blush in the world. Knowing how far it goes makes me want to kiss you all over.”

And I hold my breath as he leans in close and presses the softest, briefest kiss on my lips. “My door is always open.”

I don’t move.

His eyebrow lifts. “Unless you want to stay?”

I scramble to my feet, snatch up my bag of expensive lingerie, and beeline it to the door, shoving the remote control, lube, and vibrating egg inside.

Then I halt inches from the door and turn around because Dad raised me right.

Javier is studying me with a hint of a smile curling his lips. “Thanks for taking me shopping.”

A dimple forms on his right cheek. “My pleasure.”

And I get the hell out of his room before I do the thing I want to do more.

Stay.

When I return to my room with my bag full of expensive lingerie, lube, vibrating egg, and remote I tell myself I won’t use.

I put it away, clean my room, and watch some television as I pick at a chicken salad I made for myself in the communal kitchen.

My attention keeps swinging back to that egg Javier gave me, and I keep wanting to know how it would feel inside me.

It’s the middle of the day, but I draw the curtain, lock my door, strip before I slip under my covers, and twist open the lid for the lube.

And I hold it.

This was meant to be pretend. Just a way to drive Marc crazy by having him see me date the best players on his favorite team.

How is it that I’m holding a tube of lube and getting ready to slip a vibrating egg inside me?

How is this my life now?

I stare up at the ceiling as I apply lube to the egg and slowly, biting my lip, slip it inside me with my knees up rather than out wide. The egg is too wide.

I feel full. Not great. Not as good as it felt when Javier was on his knees in front of me, massaging my ass and sucking my breasts.

My breath catches in memory. That felt incredible.

I pick up the remote, hesitate for a second, then tap the gentlest level-one button.

“Oh God,” I pant, my eyes rolling back as I curl my toes. “Why the hell did I throw my vibrator away?”

I widen my thighs and experiment with the vibration. Level five isintense. Like an orgasm-in-under-five-seconds intense.Way too much for me. I hover between one and three, my breath getting heavier as the pulsing egg makes keeping quiet harder.

I’m pumping my hips in time to each pulse when a knock sounds on my door.

I freeze.

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