Page 11 of The Fake
When her mouth finds mine again, it’s with a desperate moan that has me wondering if maybe we should have taken this back to my place where we’d have more privacy. Hell, maybe she wants to get caught. I worry about it for all of three seconds until she presses her chest against mine and I can feel her nipples poking through her dress.
I need to taste them. I have to know if they taste like summer, too. I ask her, and she laughs and then shocks me a little when she stands and unzips her dress. It falls to the floor, and she’s standing in front of me naked except for the smallest red panties imaginable.
“No need to guess. Find out for yourself.”
So I do.
I kiss every inch of her, starting with her lips.Sunshine.
Working my way down her neck, my lips caress her collarbone and then dip lower to taste one pink nipple.Lazy days.
I give the other the same attention and then kiss down her stomach.Carefree nights.
She quivers and moans as I nip at her hipbones.Endless possibilities.
And when my tongue finally licks up her pussy, it tastes exactly like summer, but something else, too. It tastes like new beginnings.
6
Nathan
“Oh, my God.”
I open my eyes and find Chloe, still as stunning as the night before but her face twisted into an expression of horror, peering down at me. She’s clutching her dress in both hands, holding it in front of her gorgeous body. Her verynakedgorgeous body.
“Already saw what’s underneath,” I tell her, voice gravelly from too many drinks last night.
“Oh, my God,” she repeats and grabs a pillow from the couch and tosses it at my dick. “You have to get dressed and go.”
I stand and run a hand through my hair, trying to get my bearings. “Everything alright?”
She’s not paying any attention to me, though. She’s wrapped herself like a burrito in a blanket from the couch and turns in circles, picking up all the evidence from our night together like it’s a crime scene.
Condom wrappers, wine bottle corks, panties.
She picks up my shirt and tosses it to me, our eyes finally locking before hers travel down. I glance at the time on my phone. Shit, I gotta get going. “Can I get your number?”
She doesn’t answer, just moves past me to straighten the coffee table and pick up the empty wine bottles.
“Here.” I try and take one of the bottles. “Let me help.”
Her grip tightens. “I got it. You should go. My roommates will be up any minute.”
“Yeah, alright.” Nothing like being kicked out of a girl’s room first thing in the morning.
I’m turning my shirt right side out when a door opens and two girls step through. Both tall, one with wild blonde curls and the other a brunette with straight hair and a sharp angular face that’s probably pretty when she smiles. As it is, her cold expression gives new meaning to the term resting bitch face. Sooo, this is the evil roommate.
Confirmed when she steps fully into the room and takes in the scene. Her eyes go from shocked to taunting. Her tone is condescending as hell when she says, “Good morning, Chloe. Who’s your friend?”
My surfer princess stiffens.
“You did catch his name, right? A one-night stand, really? Or is he from a service?”
A service? Hell, no. Did this girl just insinuate I’m a prostitute?
After pulling the t-shirt on over my head, I step forward and extend a hand. “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m—”
“Nathan Payne,” she finishes. Her eyes have gone from narrowed slits to wide saucers. “Oh, my God. Hi. Welcome. I didn’t recognize you without your shirt on.”
