Page 27 of Fake It for Christmas

“The truth is that I ended up hating my life in New York City. Okay?” he said, glancing back up to me. “I don’t like talking about it because it makes me feel really bad.”

“Oh,” I said, surprised by his sudden burst of honesty. “I’m sorry.”

Maybehewas the one who was a lot sadder than he seemed.

He reached a hand up, running it along my hair and the side of my face. “You’re sweet. It’s okay, Shane. When I’m with you, I don’t think about my past as much. I really like that. So thank you.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Buttering me up.”

“Little bit,” he said, a glimmer in his eyes.

I leaned down and kissed him again, finally letting myself relax into it and trust him.

I wanted to know more. But if he wasn’t going to offer it up, I wasn’t going to try and wrestle blood from a stone.

He felt good.

And it wasn’t as if any of this was serious to begin with.

When he let his palm come up to cup the outline of my dick, I groaned deeply, unable to hide exactly how much I wanted it.

I pulled off of his mouth, looking him dead in the eye.

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not,” he said, but his eyes were full of fire. “I want to try sucking cock.”

I swallowed hard as my cock very obviously twitched under his palm.

I’d long been a fan of videos online where guys claimed to befirst-time cock suckers, but even when I got off to those videos, I knew most of them must have been fake. I’d never actually been with a guy who had never done it before.

And I’d been fucking craving it for as long as I could remember.

The idea of being Rowen’s first time…

“You, uh, you could try it out,” I said, failing miserably at my attempt to remain calm. “See if you like it.”

He dragged his fingertips along my cock’s outline again, and suddenly I felt like he was putting me into some lust-fueled trance.

At this point, I’d do anything with him.

“Will you give me tips?” he asked coyly, as if he’d started to figure out just how much of a turn-on this was to me. “Be my teacher, kind of thing?”

Heat flooded every inch of me.

“I can do that for you,” I said, as if he hadn’t essentially just told me that I was winning the goddamn lottery.

“I just have one question,” he said.

“Ask me anything,” I said, swallowing.

His eyes glittered. “Why are your pants still on?”

8

ROWEN

My hands slid up toward the button on Shane’s jeans, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest.

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