Page 87 of Faking Forever 1
Cupping one of her breasts, I squeeze it, kissing her shoulder, letting my other hand go for the gold. Using my middle and ring fingers to slip her bathing suit to the side, they glide between each fold, sinking slowly inside of her. She was warm to the touch. Her body shivers the deeper they go—her nails 206
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digging into the skin of my back harder. She was growing loose in my grasp till one of her hands fell to my arm, squeezing it.
“Deeper…” she pants.
“Deeper?” I rasp, watching her eyes slowly shut.
She nods, biting back a moan that still escapes, disguising itself as a small cry. My fingers listen to her demands, filling her until I can’t go any further, pressing my thumb against her clit, twirling it around. I can’t help but wait for her reaction.
Taking in the feeling of how tight she really was, she clenches around my fingers as I curl them. I was going right for her g-spot, knowing she’ll make the prettiest faces once she cums.
The corners of her mouth curve into a blissful smile, unable to close it. Distracted by her expression, I didn’t have to think about what to do. Watching her was all I needed to know that she was enjoying every second—riding my fingers like they mightrun away from her at any given second. Again, my hand falls to her jawline, making her look me in the eye this time.
“I can only imagine whatyoufeel like.” she struggles to speak.
It’s obvious she was going to cum. That and she was torturing me with every moan, every shutter of movement. I don’t think I’ve ever been as rock-hard as I am at this moment.
She was pulsating around me, and it was sending me into orbit.
“I’m gonna—oh my god!”
Her legs shake uncontrollably, and all of her senses leave her body as she belts out what could be a melody compared to angels singing. She was, undoubtedly, satisfied. The tremble still lingers from her small frame. Her eyelids were sealed shut as if she’d passed out—she was limper than ever. I attach my mouth to her neck, suckling right above her collar.
“Josh,” she finally catches her breath, “what if people see 207
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that?”
“Like I give a shit, who sees? I’m marking my territory.”
Rightfully so. This was my version of a reward. Kissing my trophy. She wouldn’t understand that this happening isn’t a dream and that my puny brain is struggling to fathom it. She giggles, cupping my cheeks while I twirl my tongue against her skin, placing more kisses up her cheek till I’m left with one more for her lips.
I think my adventurous ways have finally done me some justice. The normal sneaking out and doing something I’m not supposed to usually end in a disastrous hellfire that I can’t put out. I guess this couldalsobe a disastrous hellfire—one where I go upin flames for only thinking with my dick. But given the current setup, I wouldn’t be using any other head any time soon.
* * *
After last night ended, my head grew about five times bigger, and now, I’m almost positive that nothing could kill my vibe.
Birds chirp like mini choirs, and the breeze hits my skin like butter. I like how when you finally get to the next level with the person you’re falling for, and after it happens, everything feels aligned. Somehow, today, things make more sense than they did yesterday. The sense of relief is pretty thrilling, might I add? I’m assuming things might be insufferably awkward from here on out. But since I can’t talk about the big score with Paisley herself, I’m dying to see Beau or Sierra.
So far, no words have been exchanged between us. I don’t think either of us has words, so we keep smiling and staring at each other from afar or finding reasons to make skin-to-208
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skin contact while packing up each car. So badly, I want to procrastinate a tiny bit longer before saying anything at all.
For the first time, I don’t know what to do about my dating life—and I’m on a time limit, making this a very bittersweet experience. What I know is that I don’t want to remain friends.
It might be fake dating, but after we threw ourselves all over each other like animals, it’s impossible for things to go back to normal, let alone remain that way.
Part of me deeply fears that she’ll change her mind about everything. Or that the tension will die down once the atmosphere is gone since we’re back home. I wonder if she still looks at Nick the way I’m looking at her. She says she doesn’t, but that’s what women do when they don’t want to hurt your feelings. I don’t think she thinks that low of me, but hell, her expectations can’t be that high either if Nick is who I’m competing with.
What’s more concerning is what happens in London. Is some desperate British guy at some quaint little coffee shop going to sweep her off her feet? It might sound insane, but it’s not impossible. Who wouldn’t be enthralled by being in a place like that? It’s an experience that I think anybody would get wrapped up in. I just pray that she isn’t one of the somebodies who do.
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