Fake Out

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Fake Out Page 13

by Eden Finley


  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh. Then Matt came to New York to talk to you, because his current management team is screwing him over in contract negotiations. I thought you could use a client considering you don’t have any.”

  “Oh.” Apparently, my whole vocabulary consists of only this word now.

  “I recommended you because you’re not a dick. Guess that was a wrong assessment, huh?”

  Yep.

  “You want to act all jealous when you’ve made it clear nothing can happen between us, that’s okay. But don’t be an idiot. There’s a high-profile client within your grasp. Don’t let me be the reason you don’t pursue it.”

  I stand completely stunned and unmoving, barely even blinking. Maddox scoffs and pushes past me. My head screams at me to stop him, but my body doesn’t move. Only when he reaches the door, do I find the courage to get my feet going in his direction.

  “Maddy.” My hand goes over his head, pushing the door closed so he can’t escape, and he turns to face me.

  This close, we share the same breath, and we’re both breathing hard. His eyes are either hooded or narrowed; I can’t tell if he’s angry or turned on, but I don’t give him a chance to let me know which, because I move in and fuse my mouth to his. He accepts it willingly—eagerly.

  Resisting him has made the buildup to this more explosive. His tongue, his lips, his mouth seeking mine, it’s as natural and inevitable as magnets finding each other.

  I tried to be strong, I tried to hold back, but I know now it would’ve been impossible to keep up forever.

  His back hits the door. Our tongues tangle, and there’s no hesitance on his part. He dives in fully, and he tastes the same as I remember but better. He’s either recently cleaned his teeth or chewed on gum, because his mouth is minty.

  With my hips pushed up against his, I can feel him hardening. My body instinctively rocks into him, and I’m hard as an iron bar. All he’s done is kiss me.

  Weeks of thinking about doing this again has my hands shamelessly wandering all over him. I grip his hair and tilt his head back while my lips trail down his neck. My free hand finds its way to the button and zipper of his jeans.

  “Damon—”

  “Can’t talk now.” We need to, but I can’t.

  “Okay.” He clears his throat. “But I was going to warn you that I’ve been fantasizing about this since I met you. I’m already close to coming.”

  A growl gets stuck in the back of my throat. I kiss him again and pull him off the door. Without breaking our lips apart, I drag him over to the bed. The voice yelling at me to slow down gets pushed away by my needy cock. The rational side—or maybe it’s my horny side—reassures me this isn’t like what happened with Eric. Maddox is sober. He’s been interested for over a month; this isn’t a fleeting experiment … At least, I hope it’s not.

  But the biggest thing that keeps running through my head is what he told me in his apartment: he’s not Eric.

  I push him down and land on top of him, our mouths moving in sync. It’s been so long since I’ve been with anyone I’ve forgotten how awesome kissing is, but it’s not nearly enough. Not with Maddox.

  His stomach muscles contract as I move my hand between us. I grip his cock through his jeans, and he throws his head back on the mattress. We’re hanging half off the bed, but I can’t bring myself to pull off him and move us farther up.

  His moans are intoxicating, and I’m lost in everything Maddox.

  Instead of pulling away like I should, I move down his body, slinking to the floor on my knees. I’ve barely got his jeans and boxers down his thick thighs before I’m engulfing his cock with my mouth, taking him to the back of my throat. My deep-throating skills are rusty, and it doesn’t help Maddox is hung.

  “Fuck!” he hisses.

  I pull off him. “We have to use our inside voices. There are people downstairs.”

  He leans up on his elbows. “If you’re going to do that again and need me to be quiet, you’re going to have to gag me.”

  “That can be arranged.” I slap my hand over his mouth. He mumbles something against my hand. “What was that? I can’t hear you.”

  He shakes my hand off. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

  “Yeah, I am. Now, shh.” I cover his mouth again.

  He chuckles, but it dies when my tongue lands on him and circles around the tip of his cock. I’d love to take my time, savor his taste and the soft moans coming from him, but there are people downstairs, and if I’m completely honest, I’m scared he’s going to freak out any moment.

  It doesn’t take long for the doubt to seep back in now I’m actually doing this.

  Logically, he shouldn’t—this isn’t his first blowjob from a guy—but it doesn’t stop the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that this could be a one-time deal. That maybe he’s pretending I’m a girl like he said he used to do when he was with Matt.

  The insecurity and vulnerability trying to distract me evaporate when I lift my gaze and his eyes are on me. He says something against my hand that sounds like “Damon” … or maybe it was “don’t.” Shit.

  I pull off him again. “Please tell me this is okay.”

  His eyes soften. He knows exactly why I’m asking that. When I pull my hand away from his mouth, he reaches for my cheek, and his thumb runs across the stubble there. With a warm smile, he gently says, “If you stop, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  I can’t stop the laugh.

  “I’m so close. Need you.”

  No way am I stopping now.

  When I take him back in my mouth again, I relax my jaw and breathe through my nose. His hips buck, sending him deeper to the back of my throat, and I moan around his cock. It’s enough to make him crazy. He mutters incoherently, but when the first spurts hit my tongue, I realize his babble was trying to warn me. I suck him down, taking every last drop until his body melts into the mattress.

  “So good,” he murmurs.

  I climb up his body until we’re face to face, me pinning him to the bed and our legs hanging off the end. “I’m sorry,” I say.

  His hands go to my hips. “What for?”

  “For being a dick. I do want you, Maddy. I’ve wanted you since the weekend I met you. But—”

  “You’re scared shitless. If Eric hadn’t fucked you over, or even if I realized I was bi back in college, maybe you wouldn’t have this hang-up about me being new to all this. I don’t know what I can say to make you understand you’re the one I want. This isn’t about sex or experimenting, and I don’t care that you’re a guy. You’re the only person I’ve wanted to date since high school. Ask Stacy, that’s a big step for me.”

  I lean in and kiss him softly. His mouth moves lazily against mine, and I have to force myself to pull away. “I want that too, but maybe we should take it slow.”

  His lips curve up at the edges. “Should’ve thought of that before you sucked me off.”

  My head falls to the crook of his shoulder. “You’re right, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been fantasizing about doing that for a month.” I pull up off him and stand.

  Maddox sits up and reaches for my belt, bringing me back to him. His hand rubs the hard length in my jeans. “I need to return the favor,” he says, and I’m so tempted to let him, but I’m still hesitant. If there wasn’t a room full of people downstairs, I’d probably feel differently. There’s no clean escape route if this goes wrong.

  “Maybe later. We should get back downstairs before they come looking for us.”

  His eyes flick up to mine. “You’ll come home with me?”

  Despite my reservations, there’s no way I can go back to denying I want him. “You won’t be able to keep me away now.”

  Maddox grins. “Good.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  MADDOX

  While I pull my pants up and tuck myself away, Damon watches me with a satisfied smile on his face even though he’s not the one who got off. “What?” I ask.
/>   “They’re gonna know. Your cheeks are flushed, and you’re all loose. Dead giveaway.”

  “Well, coming hard does that to a guy. Why are you smiling wider?”

  He steps forward. “Because I like that I’m the one who did it to you.” When his lips find mine, they’re soft and tentative, so I force my tongue into his mouth to harden the kiss, but he groans and pulls away. “Don’t start or we won’t be leaving this room.”

  “I’m totally okay with that.”

  “We should make sure my friends aren’t grilling Matt.”

  “Oh shit. I kinda forgot I dragged him here.”

  When I head for the door, Damon stops me. “I really am sorry. I saw the tabloid photos, and it drove me crazy.”

  “I’m not the one you should apologize to. If you and Matt are going to work together—”

  “I’ll go apologize now.” Damon kisses me one more time, and instead of the cringing, itchy feeling I normally get after a hookup—not in the STD way but the I-need-to-get-out-of-here way—all I want is more. All I want to do is go downstairs, say goodbye to everyone, and take him home.

  Our fingers intertwine, but as soon as we reach the stairs, he lets go. “We don’t need to give them any ammunition.”

  Even though we aren’t touching, that doesn’t stop the intrigued and smug looks we get from everyone when we rejoin them. I try to ignore them and not give anything away, but my cheeks still have that post-orgasmic burn, and I worry they’re fucking glowing.

  “Okay, let’s try this again now someone’s not a cranky asshole,” I say and approach Matt and Noah where they’re talking in the living room nook. “Damon, this is Matt. Matt, Damon. Hey, Matt Damon. That’s funny.”

  Damon manages a smile and holds his hand out for Matt. “Hey. Sorry about earlier. As Maddy said, I was a cranky asshole.”

  “Maddy, huh?” Noah taunts. Damon ignores him.

  Matt gives Damon a chin lift and shakes his hand. “Maddox has told me about you, so I get it. The tabloids have made us out to be a couple, and it’s kinda shitty considering all Maddox is doing is trying to help me.”

  “Yeah, you’re having issues with your current management team?” Damon asks.

  Matt looks from Noah to Damon and then stares at his shoes. “Uh, yeah. Ever since my … news broke.”

  “On that note,” I say, “Noah and I are going to get a beer while you guys talk shop. Lead me to your kitchen.”

  I follow Noah, and he hands me a beer from his fridge.

  “You found a way to make Damon apologize?” he asks.

  Why, yes, I put my cock in his mouth. “Uh …”

  “You might have to tell me your tricks, because he’s a stubborn son of a bitch usually.”

  Yeah, I won’t be telling Noah to do it my way. I shrug. “I explained the situation and told him he was wrong.”

  “And that worked? Damn, my friend has it bad.” Noah corners me against the bench, crossing way too many human decency boundaries, and I’m about to push him off me when he speaks low. “I’ll lie if you ever repeat I said this. As you’ve probably been told, I don’t have many friends, but Damon’s one of the few good ones. So, treat him right, okay? Be upfront with him if you’re … having doubts.”

  My eyes narrow, and I take a stab that he knows about Damon’s hang-ups. “I’m not ashamed to say I want him.”

  Noah steps back. The intimidation is gone as he says, “You a Call of Duty man?”

  “Uh …” I take a second to recover from my interrogation. “I’m in.”

  We kick off Wyatt and another guy from the game, and Noah sends them on a beer run seeing as I’m apparently drinking the last one. Damon and Matt stay in the corner, talking in harsh whispers. The concentration line on Damon’s face is hot as fuck. It’s weird to think ten minutes ago that same guy had his mouth wrapped around my dick, but staring at Damon from afar, one thing is clear. I want more. A lot more. I don’t think I’ve come that hard since … probably since I lost my virginity to Chastity and blew in like twenty seconds flat.

  “Concentrate.” Noah’s voice snaps me to attention.

  I don’t know how long Noah and I play, but people come and go behind us. I’m vaguely aware of greetings and goodbyes.

  “I’m out,” another voice says behind us. Don’t know who it is, and I don’t bother looking. Noah and I are too busy commandeering a chopper and killing bad guys, because we’re motherfucking badasses.

  “Go, go, go,” Noah yells at me.

  “I am!”

  “Kill faster, noob.”

  I don’t know if he’s calling me that because he knows I’m a same-sex virgin or if he’s mocking my COD skills, but I can’t smack talk him back because a loud booming voice snaps us to attention.

  “Babe.”

  I turn to Damon. Did he just call me—

  “You weren’t answering to your name. Matt’s gone. You wanna …?” He tips his head in the direction of Noah’s front door.

  I scramble to my feet so fast everyone finds it comical, but I don’t care. Damon and I will be back at my apartment in twenty minutes—tops.

  “Practice safe sex,” Noah calls after us.

  Damon flips him off, but not for long, because I grab his hand and drag him out the door.

  ***

  For all the eagerness I had to leave Noah’s place and get back to my place, my hands tremble as I try to unlock my door. It doesn’t help that Damon’s pushed up against my back and his lips are on my neck. The sensation sends a jolt straight to my cock.

  When I drop the keys to the floor, I let out a curse, and Damon chuckles against my skin.

  “I’ve got it,” he says and dips to pick up my keys.

  I stand completely still, staring at my door like a moron.

  Damon’s hand clamps down on my shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Is it stupid that I’m legit nervous right now?”

  He drops his hand and steps away. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

  “Oh, I’m ready … for, uh … stuff. Maybe not … uh …”

  “Ass stuff?” he says with a laugh. “Got it. I probably shouldn’t mention the fact I usually like to top, right?” His easy smile relaxes me.

  “Of course, you do. And …” I run a hand through my hair. “I’m not exactly against … err, ass stuff, as you call it. Best feeling ever is a finger up there while getting a blowjob.”

  A throat clears, and Damon can’t contain his amusement as his eyes lock on someone behind me. He tries to hide his smile by rubbing his jaw.

  I turn to face my neighbor—my elderly neighbor. “Hey, Mrs. Jacobs.” Mortification doesn’t begin to describe this moment.

  Mrs. Jacobs grumbles something about the youth of today and pushes past us in the narrow hallway.

  “How about we finish this conversation inside your apartment?” Damon asks. As soon as we’re inside and we’ve taken off our jackets, he’s back onto my now least favorite topic in the world. “So, you’ve been holding out on me. You could’ve said something while I was blowing you.”

  “I couldn’t remember my name, let alone think to give you instructions.” I step closer. “You definitely didn’t need any guidance.” When I try to close the distance, he steps back.

  “Who was it? Was it M—”

  I sigh. “No, Matt didn’t play with my ass. Funnily enough, he never went near it in the four—no, five—months we fooled around. And speaking of fooling around, can we please get to it already?”

  “Wait, I want to hear more.”

  I groan. “Why?”

  “It has to do with your ass, so I’m interested.” He hasn’t lost his damn smirk.

  “I don’t know if I like playful Damon. Where’s the serious and uptight guy who’s hotter than fuck when he loses control and blows a guy in his friend’s guest bedroom?”

  Damon’s green eyes darken and fill with lust.

  “There he is,” I taunt and move closer again. This tim
e, he lets me get within a foot before he stops me.

  His hands go to my hips. “Maddy.” His voice—so tortured. “Are you sure?” He winces. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be insecure and annoying. I never used to need this much reassurance.” He lets out a sad laugh. “And you thought you were the head case.”

  I swallow my irritation, because it’s not at Damon. It’s at the shithead who messed with him. “I have an idea.” Grabbing his hand, I drag him over to my bed and push him down on his back, but I don’t join him. Not yet.

  My tiny closet is full from top to bottom and left to right. I push aside my work shirts, but they don’t go far. I have to pull off some impressive contortionist moves to reach into the back for my ties. I’m lucky enough to work for a laid-back firm that I don’t have to wear them in the office.

  “What are you doing?” Damon asks.

  I almost get swallowed whole by the closet. “Aha.”

  Damon’s eyes narrow when I pull out a tie.

  Cautiously, I approach him and reach for the hem of his shirt to take it off. Then I nudge him. “Move up the bed.” He wiggles his way up so his head hits the pillow, and I climb on top of him, straddling his hips. I have to close my eyes and fight the urge not to rut against the hardness beneath me. “Hands above your head.”

  “I’m not really into kink.” That doesn’t stop him from lifting his hands or me from tying him to my headboard.

  “Calm down. It’s just a little bondage. I promise not to spank you or make you call me sir.”

  He snorts.

  “It’s loose so you can easily get out if you want to. It’s more a mind over matter thing. You’re not the one who’s going to be doing the touching, so anything that happens here will be all on me. It’ll be everything I want to do.”

  My eyes meet his, and I freeze. It’s an odd moment to have an epiphany-like event. But being this close, me on top of a half-naked Damon, our mouths inches apart, and sharing the same breath, I finally get it. I don’t give a shit about labels, because I don’t need to. All I need to care about is making this guy mine.

  The possessiveness takes me off guard, because I’ve never had that with anyone. I don’t even know if the feeling is temporary or long-term. The only thing keeping my mouth glued shut is the fear it will go away. I don’t want it to. All I know is, I’ve never wanted anyone more, and if he makes me chase him for months like his sister did, I’d do it. And I wouldn’t give up this time, because it’s different with Damon. This isn’t about sex. If it was, I would’ve ditched Damon as soon as I found out about his issues and hooked up with Noah instead. Or a chick. I wouldn’t be willing to tie Damon to a bed just so he’d let me touch him. I wouldn’t care to work through the shit going on in his head.

 

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