by Riley Hart
“You didn’t need to be an actor to make them believe you a few minutes ago. Why is it any different?”
He’s right. I’ve never done anything like this before, but we were able to convince all those guys that we’re an item, so maybe I can.
“Which would you rather people think?” he asks. “You’re moping around, feeling sorry for yourself because that asshole who didn’t deserve you to begin with was a sleaze and moved in with another guy? Or that you’re so fucking over him that you’ve already fallen in love with a hot new piece of ass? That’s why you started lying to him earlier, isn’t it? You wanted him to think that you’d moved on. Why not throw this in his fucking face, and give a guy who could use a break a little help?”
I should think this over. I should consider the consequences of my actions, but with his body pressed up against me as he practically pins me to the wall, offering something I so desperately crave—getting to throw this all back in Peter’s face—I can’t deny him.
“I’m in,” I say, surrendering to this sexual spell he has me under, as so many other guys have done before me.
The way his lip curls into his dimple is sly, reminding me this isn’t a guy I can trust. I need to remember that. With a pretty face like his, it seems like something that’d be easy to forget.
He leans forward and kisses me again.
I figure he’s going along with our act, so I kiss him back, enjoying the taste of his mouth, the sensation of his flesh against mine. I nip at his lip again. I imagine him turning me around. Pulling my speedo down to my ankles. Pushing within me. He would be like an animal, biting at my ear as those skilled hands probed my body.
He pulls away, and I find myself leaning toward him, trying to make the experience last a little longer.
I notice how many people are looking at us now.
“Guess you did a good job convincing everyone,” I say.
He glances around, his eyes narrowing before he looks back at me. “I wasn’t trying to convince anyone of shit. That one was for fun.”
He grips my ass. “I got a few appointments I got to get to, so let’s ditch, and we can chat more later.”
“Works for me.”
As we walk side by side to the main house, his hand on my ass, I’m left wondering, What the mother-loving-fuck did I get myself into?
8
Travis
We exchanged numbers before I told Gary to meet me at my place at six. I want to confirm we’re on the same page with this whole fake relationship thing because while it’ll be fun to fuck with Peter’s head, this is actually extremely important to me.
Life changing.
Tilting my head to the right, I take my eyes off the steering wheel in front of me and look at the massive, white Colonial style house across the street. My brothers’ cars are parked out front, along with others I don’t recognize. It looks quiet from the front, but I know them. I know everyone is out back in Mom’s prized gardens she loves to show off so much. They’ll be drinking wine and chatting. The event will be catered, of course. Malcolm and Martin will play their parts perfectly, even though inside they’ll hate every fucking second of it.
The thought makes my skin feel too tight and my jaw go so tense it hurts. It’s bullshit, having to play a part like that. Having to be someone you’re not so people love you. Who the hell needs love if it’s conditional? I sure as shit don’t.
Still, I’m here, and I don’t want to let myself think about why that is. Instead, I grab the bouquet of flowers off the passenger seat and get out of the car.
The grass surrounding the custom walkway looks like synthetic turf, it’s so damn green. It’s not, of course, because Abigail Waller won’t be bested by anything, even if it is fucking grass.
Once I get to the porch, I set the bouquet down, with the unsigned card inside that simply says, Happy Birthday, before I put my sunglasses on, and then make my way back down the walkway again.
My whole body is buzzing—not the good kind either. Almost like I want to break out of my skin. I make it to my car, turn it on, and peel away from the curb. All of this because I ruined her idea of the perfect family, just because of who I like to fuck.
Speaking of fucking, I let my mind go back to Gary and the sexy little sounds he made when I kissed him. There was a second I thought he was going to climb me like a tree right there, and I would have let him. There’s a beast in there waiting to break free. Has he let him out before, or does he always keep himself locked away?
There’s a part of me that really wants to find out, wants to make him let loose, show me what that sexy ass of his can do. But even though I think he’s got a closeted, kinky freak living inside of him, I’m not sure if I should be the one to let him out to play. Would it be fun? Fuck yes, but Christ, he was with that prick for five years. Gotta admit that makes me want to run the other way. That sure as hell isn’t what I’m looking for.
The only thing I’m focused on right now is getting Steven to put up the money for me to get my place.
After finishing my errands, I stop by this little café down the street from Metropolis. I order two salads to go, dressing on the side, and then make it back to my condo in time to change into my workout clothes before there’s a knock on my door.
I pull it open to see Gary, looking like the all-American boy-next-door, with his sandy-blond hair, shorts, and a polo shirt. I don’t know why in the hell I think it’s so fucking cute, but I do.
“Hey, Hot Ass. It’s good to see you.” I lean toward him and take a taste of his mouth. Just tease him a little with my tongue to earn one of his sounds. He’s holding back. I feel it in the press of his lips. Who are you hiding in there, boy?
Once we part, Gary steps inside. “Can you just please not call me Hot Ass?”
“No.” I close the door behind him.
“Why not?” He shakes his head like he doesn’t understand me, and it makes me smile. “No one is going to believe that. You’re going overboard.”
Huh. That’s interesting. “Why wouldn’t anyone believe it?”
He cocks his head and lifts a brow like I just asked the stupidest question in the world.
Does he really not see it? “You have a hot ass, Gary. Own that shit.” I nod toward the bar. “Sit.”
He takes two steps…then stops. “I’m not a dog.”
“So, no puppy play for you? Got it. Glad we’re getting the parameters of our relationship set up now.”
“Oh my God. I can’t do this. I changed my mind.” He moves toward the door again, but I reach out and grab his wrist.
“Nope. You already agreed. Plus, it was a joke. You know, ha-ha. Not that I would be averse to playing around. I’ll try anything once. Will you?”
His blue eyes blow wide and his arm goes stiff. “What…I…are you…”
A laugh jumps out of my mouth, one I’m unable to hold back, and then Gary jerks his arm away and says, “I fucking hate you.”
“Is this our first fight?”
He sighs, and I have a feeling I’m exhausting him. I don’t know why I enjoy that thought. It’s fun messing with him. I like getting under his skin.
“Fine, whatever. But no one was in the hallway. You didn’t have to kiss me.”
“Kissing is an underrated activity. I like to kiss, and by the way, you nearly lose it every time I kiss you. I think you like it, too. Nothing wrong with a little practice so we make it realistic when we’re around people. Sit,” I tell him and nod toward the bar again. He opens his mouth, making it obvious he’s going to refuse me, so I add, “I got you a salad. Have you eaten?”
Something flashes in his eyes, an emotion I can’t read. “You got me a salad?” he asks as though he’s surprised I thought of him. That doesn’t make me real confident on how well Peter treated him. By the sound of it, I’m a better fake boyfriend than he was a real one.
“Yes. It’s just a salad, but if you don’t sit and eat the fucking thing, I’m going to get my feelings hurt.” I wal
k over to one of the bar stools and sit down. Gary pauses before he walks over and takes a seat beside me.
We eat in silence for a few minutes. When I can’t take it anymore, I tell him, “Now, as soon as I get a date from Steven, I’ll let you know. And for your part, to really fuck with Peter’s head, I think we need to be seen together—gym, coming and going from each other’s condos, shit like that. It would be beneficial if you didn’t do that initial freeze-up when I first kiss you and just go straight into the part where you kiss me like you want to rip my clothes off and mount me.”
Gary coughs, following it with a pat to his chest before coughing again.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Lettuce.” He says before coughing again. I grab my bottle of water and hand it to him, and he swallows half of it down.
“You gonna live?”
“I don’t kiss you like I want to mount you!”
Deciding to have a little fun with him, I lean close. “Oh yeah, Hot Ass, you do. Lips don’t lie, and neither do dicks. Let’s not pretend you weren’t hard as stone when I had you against that wall.”
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye like he’s trying to be annoyed with me, but damned if I don’t see him trying to bite back a smile. “And you weren’t?”
“Never denied it.” I wink at him. “Now finish your salad because we’re going to the gym.” I could use a little weight time to keep my mind off my family. It’s going to be that or fucking.
“Already?” he asks.
“No time like the present.”
For a moment, I think he’s going to argue with me, but he doesn’t. We eat and then head to his condo for him to change. It’s the perfect opportunity to make a show, so I keep my arm possessively around him like I couldn’t keep my hands off him if I wanted to.
When we get to his door, he says, “Oh, fuck. What about Jacob?”
“Are you worried he’ll tell people we aren’t dating? He won’t say anything.” I make a mental note to talk with Jacob about Gary and me. He’s a cool guy. I know we don’t have to worry about him spilling the truth.
“You know that, why? Because you fucked him?” He doesn’t sound convinced.
“Yes, actually. My cock has the ability to control even the strongest of men. Once you’ve had it, you’ll listen to me a whole lot easier than you do now, too,” I tease and again, watch his eyes go wide.
“How did I get myself into this mess?” he asks and opens the door. Jacob doesn’t seem to be here, which I think makes it a little easier on Gary. Gotta slowly work him into this stuff.
He heads for his bedroom, me right behind him. “What are you doing? I need to get changed.” He looks absolutely scandalized.
“I’m enjoying the view. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, remember?” I say as I walk into his room, sit on the bed and wait for the show.
9
Gary
Here he is again. In my room. Looking hot as ever in a navy-blue tank with a pink stripe across the chest. He’s the kind of guy who could wear a fucking pink tutu and he’d still look like the most masculine guy in the world. I slide the door to my closet open. My Ikea shelves are packed—folded tees and polos at the top and shorts, jeans, and underwear at the bottom. Not enough space in my closet to change, so the only way I can get some privacy is to head into the adjoining bathroom. That’s what I should do—that’s what I would normally do—but I don’t want to leave.
I already know he likes what he sees. I keep acting like this is all one-sided, but he’s already made it clear that it’s not. I recall his little joke about how if I didn’t eat the salad, he’d get his feelings hurt.
His words were dripping with sarcasm, as if there was no way that could ever happen. I imagine he’s never had to live through the sort of grief I experienced with Peter. I envy him. I’ve always gotten attached. After I’d hook up with a guy, there was always the lingering question, “Should we see each other again?” It’s been about finding a relationship for me. Was the guy interested in more? Was I interested in more?
I’m not worried about that with Travis. I’ve seen him at Flirt and know how he is with guys. He’d fuck anyone with a pulse…and I’ve already seen that he wouldn’t be totally against fucking me.
I grab a pair of gym shorts and a tank top. I feel him watching me. He’s waiting for me to chicken out. Waiting for me to race out of the room because I’m too much of a coward to handle him seeing me naked.
But he’s already seen everything and by now, groped everything.
In the back of my mind, a part that’s always so loud seems faint as it cries out, Don’t do it!
I can’t deny what I’m feeling right now or that it only seems fair that if Peter’s moved on, I should be able to as well. And I know that’s partially what this is all about. Yeah, he’s hot as fuck, but knowing it would piss Peter off excites me. Just knowing this would irritate him. That it would make him feel even a fraction of what he made me feel when I found out about Evan.
I throw my tank and gym shorts onto the bed and strip down. Even knowing he’s seen it all before, I worry he might suddenly realize he’s been wrong about thinking I’m attractive. About calling me Hot Ass—a nickname that, even though I pretend not to like, excites me. A lot more than kiddo.
His gaze is right on me, and soon I’m in my boxer briefs.
Now that faint voice in the back of my head has gotten even quieter because I just had a wicked thought—one that will likely wind up embarrassing me. But what do I care if Travis thinks I’m being ridiculous? I hardly even know him.
I grab either side of my boxers and drop them to the floor.
“Oh, really?” he says. “I didn’t figure you’d need to change those.”
I smirk, feeling particularly clever. “It’s my good underwear.”
There’s that look in those hazel eyes. Pure, animalistic desire. When it comes to sex, he’s easy to read. I can’t imagine being as transparent as him, letting the world know how horny I am, letting everyone know just how much I want them.
It’s reassuring.
He doesn’t make a move, which is strange. I was kind of expecting the big porn scene where he leaps at me and ravages my body, takes me the way I clearly need to be taken. Instead, he keeps his gaze fixed on me, and standing here, naked before him, I realize I have total control of this moment. I can make this go either way. Grab some fresh underwear or take this somewhere else…somewhere different. Do something crazy. Something I wanted to do when we kissed at the pool party.
Stop being a coward for once in your fucking life, I scold myself.
“You might want to cover up before I decide to do something real bad to you,” he says, his mouth hardly moving as the words slip past his lips.
“What did you have in mind?” I ask.
This isn’t like at the gym or the pool party, where I felt so uneasy. I felt like people were going to judge or scrutinize me. He doesn’t seem like he’d do that, and I feel oddly at ease standing like this in front of him—probably because I can see the interest in his expression. A look that seems to tell me how much he wants to bend me over and fuck the hell out of me right now.
He rises from the bed and starts toward me, scanning my body in a way that lets me know how interested he is. His lips curl upward as his gaze meets mine, something predatory in his expression.
“Just so we’re clear,” he says. “I’m not exactly the five-year relationship kind of guy.”
“Perfect. I wasn’t any good at that anyway.”
He rushes me so quickly I back up against the wall beside the closet before his lips smack against mine.
As I kiss him, my thoughts scatter.
What the fuck?
A wave of heat flashes across my face and relief wells within me as his kiss assures me that he wants this as much as I do. I’m lost in the passion…in gropes and sweeps of his tongue. I’m blinded by how good it all feels. By how my face is on fire and a powerful sensatio
n stirs in my chest.
He pulls away, offering a stern look as he wipes his thumb across my cheek. “I warned you about what would happen if you didn’t cover up.”
“I wanted to show you something,” I say.
He scans me up and down. “And what is that?”
I lean to him, whispering, “Why I deserve the name Hot Ass.”
The lust in his eyes returns. It’s beyond interest. It’s something feral. Something wild. Something I’m not sure he can control.
He kisses me again.
I slide my hands under his tank and claw at his back.
My cock is hard as stone, sliding up against the fabric of his shorts. My balls feel full. They ache like I need to rub one out. And it’s nice knowing I have Travis to help me with that.
“Please…tell me you…have condoms,” he says between kisses.
I guide him toward my nightstand, continuing to kiss him. I grip his hair and tug.
I don’t know what’s possessing me. Don’t understand half the desires within me. But I don’t care. I want to explore. I want to experiment, and I want Travis to help me.
We make out as he kicks off his shoes on the way to the nightstand, where I fish around for the box of condoms. It’s clear we both use Magnums, which is a relief. Sometimes, a moment like this isn’t so easy. Peter always needed a much smaller size.
As I pull out the box, Travis snatches it from me and throws it on the bed, the condoms sliding out and scattering across the covers.
I shove Travis. Hard. He falls back onto some of the gold wrappers on the comforter, and I yank his shirt up and bury my face in his abs.
I can’t control myself right now. Primal impulses consume me—force my hands up and down his sides, feeling his muscles as my tongue takes in the taste of his flesh.
He removes his shirt and tosses it off the other side of the bed. I kiss down to his gym shorts, trailing my nose along his dick, dreaming about having that giant cock inside me. I lick my tongue across the fabric, along his shaft.
As I become impatient with the barrier between us, I yank off his gym shorts, removing them hastily, exposing that beautiful, fully-erect, vein-covered dick.