Page 137 of Faking It With the Small-Town Bad Boy

“Fuck, one second,” he says.

I wait in this odd stance until he hurries back, dragging a wet

washcloth up my back to clean it of his ejaculation. I finally sit up,

dizzy from the sudden movement, and from being overwhelmed with

our sex. The shop sex was great, but this was another level. I was

feeling hornier than I’ve ever felt in my life, and I think he sensed

that early on and ran with it.

It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, easier for us to bypass a night of

fondling and kissing like we’ve been doing all week, and just letting

everything out on the table so we could enjoy ourselves.

I fall backward in bed, grabbing my little pack of birth control.

Meanwhile, Percy is slipping into his jeans. “Everything okay,

darling?”

I pant slightly, still trying to get over the fireworks show we just held

in bed. I’m surprised this place isn’t on fire from how much friction

there was between us, and not friction in a bad way. It’s like we ignite

one another, two matches striking together at the head and burning

down to their ends together.

It was great, but his question in the heat of the moment does have

my mind working overtime.

“What’s today?”

“It’s Thursday, Leah. Why?”

I tap my fingertips along the empty plastic holes that hold my little

blue birth control pills. “I’m four days behind on this pack.”

He stands at the foot of the bed, adjusting his belt. “What does that

mean, darling?”

Swallowing hard, I try not to make a big deal out of it and reply,

“Nothing. It could be nothing.”

He seems satisfied with that answer for now. He kisses my lips

briefly before walking out of the room, mentioning something about

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