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Fake It 'til You Make It

Page 5

by Jayce Carter


  “But this is all fake.”

  “The relationship, sure, but this?” He slid a hand to her lower back and pulled her impossibly tighter against him, so that his cock pressed against her lower stomach. “It’s not fake. Tell me yes, and I’ll say my goodbyes here and meet you at your place.”

  “I—”

  He ground his hips forward, and the drag of his thick length against her melted away her resistance. How could she fight against that? Against his touch and his voice and his promises and the lust he’d stoked to a blaze inside her?

  Even if it was a mistake, even if he turned tail and ran the moment it was over, who cared? Just getting a body like his naked would be worth it.

  “Yes,” she moaned, helpless against the searing need he’d created inside her.

  He could have asked her to strip naked there, to snort cinnamon, to co-sign on a loan for him—when he asked with that tone of voice? She’d do it all.

  As long as neither of us is wearing pants? I’m in.

  Chapter Five

  When was the last time Chris had wanted someone so badly? Hell, he was nervous, like some virgin hoping to get lucky at the town make-out spot.

  How does she do that to me?

  Chris didn’t get nervous. It just wasn’t in him. He was calm, easy-going, always in control. How had she turned him into something so unlike himself?

  But, damn, he couldn’t deny the way his palms sweated in his truck as he took a few breaths before going in. He pretended he was just enjoying the scenery, but he knew he was stalling—and in a pretty damn creepy way. Hopefully no one would have called the cops on the guy sitting in his dark vehicle, alone.

  Finally, when he couldn’t justify sitting there any longer, Chris left the safety of the truck and ventured to the front door. It had been easy last time, with Tara drunk and passed out. He’d known nothing would happen, and he hadn’t wanted her this bad.

  What if she changed her mind? The look he’d gotten at her that morning had stayed with him all day. She had the sort of body he’d happily drop to his knees for. Full breasts that swayed when she did, more than enough to fill his palms. Wide hips that begged for his touch, and he wanted to bury his face between her thick thighs. He’d die happy between those legs of hers. She’d looked perfect, especially as she’d stared at him with open lust before realizing she’d come out without a stitch on.

  She usually walked around with so much snark and armor to hide her nerves, but in that moment? She hadn’t been thinking about anything but what she wanted, and it had meant that she hadn’t hidden a thing.

  The wait after he knocked on the door was torture. Her car sat in the driveway, so he knew she’d gotten there. Maybe she just wouldn’t answer, just leave him and his hard-on waiting by the door.

  He wouldn’t even blame her. He wasn’t offering anything but a night of fun, but a night of fun could mean a lot. One night of reckless, stupid fun could get a person through anything.

  Just when his nerves started to get the best of him, when he was wondering if this had been a mistake, if he should slink back to his car and pretend this whole thing had never happened, the door opened, and Tara wiped away the concerns.

  Chris didn’t bother with worry anymore. He moved on autopilot, as though he wasn’t in control of his actions any longer. Instead, lust and instinct drove him, all locked in on the woman in front of him. He leaned in and cupped his hands to her cheeks, holding her still as he closed the distance. He tilted her head up and took the kiss he wanted, satiating himself with her sweet taste.

  She pulled in a surprised breath, but as quickly as it happened, she responded. She set her hands, hesitant at first, on his chest. She kneaded the hard muscles there, her fingers testing the firmness of his pecs. Each place she touched burned for more, begged for more. As she continued, her kiss and her hands gained confidence.

  She swiped her eager tongue against the tight seam of his lips, and when he gave her access, she took advantage. She dipped her tongue into his mouth, soft and warm, and wrapped her arms tighter around him.

  Like a switch had been flipped, her touches turned needy. Each inch of her generous body was pressed firmly against him, and Chris took it as the invitation it was.

  He moved her backward and kicked the door shut with his heel. She remained against him as if she couldn’t stand any speck of distance between them.

  Good. That was exactly what he wanted. In fact, the layers of clothing were too damned much.

  Chris moved a hand up her loose blouse, trailing gently over her side to where soft fabric covered her breasts. He stroked across her nipple that already pressed tight to her bra.

  The throaty moan she released against his lips when he toyed with the taut peak had his cock jerking, as if he didn’t already know it was waiting for attention.

  “You’re so soft,” he whispered in the heartbeats when their lips broke apart, her clutching hands pulling him backward toward the bedroom.

  Fine by him. The faster he got her in there, the faster he could strip her down and lose himself in every tempting curve of her luscious body.

  He never failed to enjoy sex. He liked the game of it, the fun of discovery, yet this time seemed different. He was ravenous in a way he wasn’t normally. If a woman backed out, he’d shrug and move on. If Tara backed out? I don’t even want to consider that. It’ll jinx it, and I don’t think I’ll ever quite get over losing this.

  He reached one hand out and flipped on the light, wanting to get a good look at her. Each glimpse deserved to be burned into his memory. He pulled back to yank his shirt up and over his head.

  As he did, Tara flipped the light off.

  He wanted to argue, but if he pushed, she might just back out of the whole thing. Her lack of confidence wore on him—why can’t she see how sexy she is?—but he wouldn’t risk losing out on the night by trying to hash it out then. He could memorize her body by touch, even if not by sight.

  So, instead of fighting over the light, he caught the bottom of her shirt and tugged it free before she could complain. Even in the dark room, lit only by the glow of the moon through the window, Chris groaned at the mouthwatering picture she made. Her black bra showed against the pale skin of her body. It went along with the black of the jeans and made her look like a vixen there to tempt him. She didn’t have the body of a teenager. No, Tara was all woman, with the backbone and full, succulent curves to prove it.

  He rubbed his hand over his mouth as he took the chance to look his fill. “Strip,” he ordered.

  Her hesitation lasted seconds before her agile fingers found the button of her jeans and freed it. Her hips swayed in a seductive wiggle as she moved the material down those legs, her shoes already off. It left her in just a pair of panties and her bra, both black and simple and perfect.

  “Take them off,” Chris said, his voice thick. Maybe he should have played it cool, pretended he wasn’t as affected as he was, but when faced with how much he wanted her, that seemed pointless. Who the hell cared about games right then?

  Her chest rose on what had to be a sigh before she reached behind her and undid the clasp of her bra. The straps fell down her arms and when she pulled it free, she hid herself with an arm across her breasts.

  With her other hand, she worked off her panties and let them fall to a pile on the ground.

  The moon lit up her silhouette, so while he didn’t get a lot of details, everything he saw only made him hungrier for her.

  Even with her stance, with how she covered her breasts, with the shy way she stood, he wanted to devour her.

  And he saw no damned reason not to.

  Tara had never stood naked before anyone. Even with Harry, even years into the relationship, she’d always had sex securely under the covers where there was no risk of anyone seeing anything.

  She still remembered how once, when fueled by more liquor than good sense, she’d tried to walk to bed in nothing but a little red lace nightie, only to have Harry huff an unhappy
sound and comment on how, if she lost a few pounds, the lingerie would fit better.

  That had been her last time to try for sexy. She’d realized some women were sexy teases and some were the ‘hardy, has an awesome personality, have sex under the covers even when it’s ninety’ sort of people.

  She’d known what type she was.

  Yet, when Chris stared at her, he didn’t say that. If anything, he only seemed to want her more. His kiss hadn’t been the kiss of a man who wasn’t interested, but rather the one of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and planned to get it.

  When he moved toward her, it was with the steady and sure steps of a man on a mission. He reached strong hands around her to grab her ass, kneading her generous curves as he tugged her against him. He took her lips again in a kiss that made the world spin.

  Oh, wait, no, the world spun because she found herself flat on her back on the bed and his heavy body above her. He pressed his hard thigh between her legs, opening them around his sides.

  Chris cupped her breast again, now touching her heated skin and her hard nipple directly. “I’ve been thinking about this since I first saw you wearing that dress last night. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these.” He dropped his lips to her breast that he held in his large hand. He teased the firm peak with his soft lips and eager tongue, and the nipple ached as it drew impossibly tighter. His breath warmed her, and his words slipped between the affection he lavished on her. “If I thought I could have gotten a taste that night, trust me, I would have.”

  She opened her mouth to say something self-deprecating back, to lessen the impact of his words and make sure they didn’t get beneath her armor, but a sharp sting silenced her.

  When he released her nipple from his rough teeth, he eased the burn with a swipe of his hot tongue. “Don’t argue with me.”

  Tara forgot what she was going to argue about when Chris let go of her breast and moved his seeking fingers to her slit.

  The soaked state of her pussy had her cheeks warming in embarrassment. She was not damp, not slightly aroused, but completely and totally drenched. Hell, she was dripping. The first stroke he offered with his strong fingers through all that wetness had her clenching against it.

  She drowned in the lust he’d created inside her. Her skin felt tight on her frame, an energy coursing beneath the surface and making her desperate for a way to release it all before it consumed her.

  As it blazed through her, it almost frightened her. His fingers stoked a desire she’d never felt, something she hadn’t been expected. Sex had been mechanical, a set of clear expectations and steps. Nothing more.

  Now, though, Chris’ talented fingers made her lose track of that. It wasn’t about what she should do, what she was expected to do, because she couldn’t think enough to remember what she was supposed to do.

  Instead, she could only feel. She spread her legs farther for him, and she rolled her hips up toward him. She offered herself up, and with the way he pressed his fingers into her tight pussy, with how he teased her clit with his palm, she forgot to worry about her body.

  Her love handles, and her ass and the way her breasts flattened like sad pancakes when she lay down—none of it even occurred to her in the haze of the sensations Chris inspired inside her.

  So she went with it. She listened to his smooth voice, to the praise that fell from his lips and bathed her in a strange sense of contentment she’d never felt before. It was beyond the swirling lust inside her, past the demands of her body. The ability to let go, to be in the moment was what really surprised her.

  He curled his demanding fingers inside her, teasing the front wall of her pussy. She cried out, the sensation strong, as if that one touch set off sparks of pleasure that ran through her whole body like a chain reaction, growing in intensity with each wave.

  Her orgasm shocked her. Normally, she fought for them, struggled to get herself off and, more often than not, faked it. This time, it crashed over her so fast, drawn forth by his clever fingers that pumped into her, rubbed against her G-spot and coaxed her into a strong release.

  Her eyes slid closed, her body pulled tight as she rode out wave after wave of unrelenting ecstasy that rose and crested over her, taking all her sane thoughts with it. For his part, Chris eased her through it, sliding his thick fingers into her and offering barely-there kisses to her still and distracted lips.

  When her body went lax, when all that pressure and energy slipped from her, he smiled. “You look good when you come, darling,” he whispered, his voice close and soft in the darkness, like a secret between them. It felt as if something had bonded them, something more than just sweaty bodies and orgasms.

  He rocked his hips so his cock rubbed against her thigh, though his jeans, and it answered a question he hadn’t asked directly, yet.

  Did she want to have sex? Did she want to take it further? The grinding of his thick, solid dick and the hunger it woke in her said there was no chance she was letting this go.

  All these years where she’d never found this desire, where she was sure she just wasn’t that sexual, where she’d been called frigid…and now that she’d experienced it, she wasn’t done yet. She craved more of him, to feel powerful like this, to feel wanted and sexual. She wasn’t frigid, she wasn’t ‘no fun’—she’d just never been with someone like him before.

  Tara lowered her fingers to the button of his pants and flicked it open.

  His chuckle was warm and masculine against her lips, though it cut off on a deep groan when she brushed her fingers down his cock.

  He rose up, his body above her and tempting. It made her wish she’d risked having the light on, because she wanted to see every inch of him.

  He was flawless. Even with the little she’d seen, it was obvious, and the stroke of her fingers against his rigid shaft said that perfection wasn’t lacking anywhere. Taking him might have been a challenge for her, given her lack of recent experience, but it was a challenge she was more than ready to go for. Forget yoga, forget the few exercises she’d done—this was the sort of workout she was only too happy to throw herself into.

  The bed moved when Chris stood, his strong back bowing as he bent to remove his shoes. Each movement showed an easy strength that made her want to test it, to see just how well he put those muscles to work. She’d discovered how talented his fingers were, but she wanted more.

  Hell, he made her think about those old Olympics she’d read about, where the men who competed did so naked. Chris would look damn good throwing a javelin au naturel.

  He shucked his pants in an efficient move, digging something out of the back pocket. A condom, she realized, a heartbeat before his boxers followed suit, and he ended up naked and on display before her.

  Damn. How did I end up this lucky?

  Chris was the sort of man Tara had never thought she could have. She’d figured she’d end up with someone who ‘had a great personality’ but who didn’t turn her on at all. She’d resigned herself to that, hadn’t even been angry about it. Some people got superstar good looks for their partners and some people got ogres, and she’d accepted it.

  Yet each look she got at Chris, the more she fell.

  He didn’t hide himself, didn’t shield anything from her view. Not his broad shoulders, his narrow waist or his thick, heavily veined cock.

  “What are you looking at?” he asked, a smile in his tone.

  “You,” she whispered, her voice full of a reverence that she should have been embarrassed about. So much for playing it cool, but really, what was the point? The bastard knew exactly how sexy he was.

  He laughed, a soft sound, before he came back and crawled over her. “You’re sure? About this?” He dragged his fingers through her hair, a sweet caress at odds with the way they were both panting. It was almost as if the moment wasn’t just stupid sex, not just meaningless rutting between strangers. Hell, she could almost believe it was something more, like two people who might care.

  As quickly as the tho
ught occurred, she banished it. Don’t get caught up in fantasies, Tara. You know what this is. He’s a good lay, but that doesn’t mean he’s anything more. Enjoy him for the amazing fuck he is proving to be.

  The rip of foil tearing pulled her from her thoughts and returned her attention to Chris. After he sheathed his long cock in the condom, his warm body surrounded her again. The blunt head of his hard dick brushed her hypersensitive clit, the action making her shiver in need.

  “Please,” she breathed out as she clutched her hands to his sides, pulling him in.

  He had one of his hands wrapped around his shaft, then he cupped the other behind her neck, his elbow on the bed. “You can ask nicely? Well, isn’t that new?”

  Any remark she might have made was silenced when he shifted his hips forward to press his thick cock into her tight, still pulsing cunt.

  The burn was delicious, her body unused to the stretch anymore. In fact, as she breathed through the sensation of him sliding into her, she doubted she’d ever been so full. Harry hadn’t made her feel like that, hadn’t made her pussy tighten around him, made her clutch for him as if she could keep him from escaping.

  “You okay?” He posed the question against her lips when he pressed fully to her, when he’d buried every single inch inside her and no bit of space was left between their sweat-soaked bodies.

  Tara nodded, gasping when a tiny shift made his swollen length stroke against her sensitive inner walls. She dug her nails into his arm as the sensation rolled through her and ignited all those feelings that had simmered after the incredible orgasm he’d already given her.

  His laugh grounded her, and he rubbed his fingers against the back of her neck. “That seems like you’re okay. I’m glad, because your pussy feels so good, wrapped tight around me, that I don’t think I can stay still like this for long. “

  “Good. Don’t stay still,” Tara demanded before nipping at his full, warm bottom lip.

 

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