Faking It (Metropolis Book 1)

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Faking It (Metropolis Book 1) Page 6

by Riley Hart


  I realize how much I’ve missed that since I saw it yesterday when Travis woke up in my bed.

  I gaze up at Travis, who looks back with narrow eyes, a curious expression on his face.

  “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?” he says.

  I smirk before burying my face in his balls, licking them, teasing them, allowing my instincts to guide me as I slide my tongue around them, delighting in how he tastes like a fucking man and how I’m making him leak onto his abs right now.

  I take in a whiff of his pubes before I surrender my work here and crawl onto the bed over him, my knees on either side of Travis’s hips as I settle onto his waist.

  “I need this, Travis,” I say. “I need you to shove this fat cock inside me and make me come.”

  What is possessing me? I guess just because I know this is what he does with guys. And if I’m going to pretend to move on from Peter, why not actually do it? And if we’re going to do this, I want it all. I deserve it after all the mediocre sex I had with Peter.

  He grabs the back of my head and pulls me down to him, kissing me hard. I break it for a moment, whimpering softly.

  He grabs my hair, clinging to it, keeping me from leaning back down to kiss him.

  “I’ll give you something to whimper about,” he says.

  He grips his arms around my thighs and twists his body, rolling so he ends up on top of me.

  He licks my neck as he grabs one of the condoms beside him.

  He suits up and leans over to the nightstand. He retrieves a bottle of lube from the open drawer and dispenses some before lathering it over his shaft.

  I can’t help but smile knowing that in a moment this nagging emptiness within me will be filled.

  He’s teased me too much. He’s brought me too far to leave me hanging now.

  His chest expands and compresses with heavy breaths.

  “Jesus, you’re a fucking animal.” He sounds like he’s impressed. And I feel proud, knowing it must take a lot to impress a guy like him.

  He pushes my legs back as he walks on his knees to me. He presses the head of his dick against my hole, and I throw my head back, preparing for his entry.

  I’m filled with this inexplicable hunger that’s made me this needy bottom for him.

  “Get inside me now,” I say.

  “You’ve got to be a little patient.”

  Fucking logistics. My body’s too greedy for logic right now.

  I need him shoving that cock inside me right now. Making me scream out. Bringing to life all those fantasies I’ve been playing out in my mind, ever since he first stirred desire in me when I’d watch him exercise in his living room.

  When he pushes in, the pressure is intense. Even more than I was expecting, which makes me relieved that he opted to take his time.

  Still, it feels so good. I can’t help but make that sound again, and as I do, I see his eyes fill with eagerness.

  I point my toes as I work to relax my body to allow him in me.

  He’s slow enough for me to adjust but quick enough that I don’t get impatient.

  Soon he’s bringing to life all those nerves that he awakened at the pool party—some inexplicable chemistry between us that sets fire to everything within me.

  It’s like I haven’t lived until this moment.

  I grab his arms, bulky with muscles, as he pushes inside and works up into a stride.

  I’m lost in his touch, in constant motion around my body, feeling his kisses, licks, nips, and bites across my flesh. Nipping back. There’s a playful light in his eyes but also something furious—that same hot desire to reach the end of our destination.

  We go until he’s dripping with sweat and panting like he’s run a marathon.

  Every thrust hits my prostate, and a puddle of pre-come has collected on my abdomen.

  His fingers make another sweep over my body. It’s like he’s grabbing at something that isn’t there. “I can’t fucking touch you enough,” he says.

  As much as I’ve tried to relax my muscles, I’m still tensed up because I’ve never had one this big inside me before.

  But that sweet spot he hits makes it all worth it, sends the rushes of energy surging throughout my body.

  I cry out.

  “Fuck, Travis!”

  He leans back, and like a champion…like the fucking sex god he is…he rams into me.

  “Give me that cry. I want to hear you scream,” he demands.

  And I do. I unleash all the passion I’ve bottled up all these years.

  Letting him know how much I love the feeling of having him inside me. I’ve never made these sounds before. No. These are from whatever this is that Travis has awakened within me. Whatever this thing is he’s bringing out of me.

  His movements are powerful and leave me trembling beneath him as my body works to keep up with all that he’s giving me.

  He leans down and kisses me.

  “I want you to come,” I tell him. “I want you to fill that condom while you’re inside me.”

  But as soon as the words escape my lips, he pulls out.

  “Get on your knees,” he instructs.

  I obey. I face the wooden headboard, on my knees, my palms before me, ready for him to take me.

  He gets behind me, slides back in, grips my hair, and yanks back forcefully.

  I submit, arching my body with his pull, and the position makes his entry hit all those sweet spots within me just right.

  I grip the headboard with my right hand and reach back and cling onto his ass cheek with my other.

  I fight his pull on my hair to glance down at my cock, which continues spilling pre-come across the covers.

  I keep making that noise that reveals how good it all feels, and I can tell by his frenzied movements, it’s making him even harder.

  “God, you’re gonna make me blow my load,” he says.

  “Do it.”

  “Uh-uh. Not until I get you off.”

  He leans forward so his torso is flush with my back. He reaches around with his free hand and jerks me off.

  His face is right next to mine. He kisses my cheek furiously as his hand brings me closer and closer. Strings of pre-come drip from my cock.

  “Goddammit,” I say. “I’m gonna.…Fuck…”

  I spill across the sheets and then feel him violently rocking within me before his movements become a series of forceful jerks forward as he slams against my now-sensitive prostate.

  Heat swells in my face and sweat drips down my body as he wraps his arms around me.

  We pant and occasionally quake together as our bodies twitch, recovering from our climaxes.

  “Ready to…hit…the gym?” he asks, panting.

  I chuckle.

  10

  Travis

  I sure as shit hadn’t expected that to happen. Yeah, I knew Gary had a wildfire raging beneath the surface, just waiting to blaze uncontained, but I hadn’t been real sure if he would be able to give in to it. Certainly not so soon. But he had and Christ, that fucking ass. If we continue to play together, this whole fake relationship thing might be a little more fun than I thought it would be.

  As long as he isn’t looking for anything more serious, we’ll be good.

  We’d gone to the gym like planned. He’d returned to being a little more reserved. He’s a contradiction I haven’t quite figured out. Despite the desire that had flared in his eyes, Gary had seemed fucking scandalized when I’d woken up in his bed the other morning. Add in the way he clearly wanted to fade into the background at the fundraiser—and again at the gym—with the way he let loose, begging me to fuck his ass and I don’t know what to think.

  I’d played my part well while working out—fucking and exercising are two of my favorite things—so the evening had worked nicely for me. I touched him often when people were watching and witnessed the confusion of how to act play across his face. When I’d kissed him good-bye, he went Greedy Power-Bottom Gary again, and I thought he would try to take me r
ight there.

  So yeah, quite the contradiction.

  It’s been three days since the fundraiser. I’ve played boyfriend every morning at the gym, gotten all the queens and everyone else at Metropolis talking, but I haven’t heard from Steven yet, and it’s starting to piss me off.

  I glance at the time as I tap my thumb on the steering wheel. Traffic is fucking brutal, and I have to make it from Midtown to Sandy Springs for appointments today. I left one of my older male clients twenty minutes ago, and if shit doesn’t change quickly, I’ll be late for Vincent, one of my regulars.

  “Fuck,” I grit out as I look ahead of me with no end in sight. I usually try to keep my appointments a little closer together, but it doesn’t always work that way.

  I arrive fifteen minutes late to Vincent’s town house. Luckily, he’s an easygoing guy and understands. By the time we’re in his room, my massage table open in front of the second-floor window that overlooks the city, I feel like I’m the one who needs to be rubbed down.

  But the second my hands begin to knead his back, I’m in the zone. The tension begins to seep out of me while I work on him. There’s something about this that I love, that just feels right for me, which is why Steven’s money is so important.

  “My lower back has been giving me some problems. Can you pay extra attention there?” he asks.

  “Of course.” I push the edge of the blanket covering his ass down slightly and begin to dig my thumbs into the small of his back. When I find a knot, I focus on it, trying to work it out. “Yeah, I can feel tension in here. We’ll get you taken care of.”

  “Thank you,” Vincent says and then lets out a long moan. It’s deeper than the sounds Gary makes—which I have no clue what the fuck he has to do with anything, but there you go. “Jesus, your hands are like magic.”

  “So I’ve been told,” I say playfully but then focus on the job at hand. An hour later, I’m packing up my supplies, and Vincent is watching me, wearing a pair of sweats and his arms crossed. We met when Vincent used to live at Metropolis, but he moved a few months back.

  “I was at Flirt the other night. I miss the old neighborhood,” he says.

  “I’m sure you do. It’s a whole lot easier to stumble down the block with a trick than it is to come all the way out here.”

  He smiles. “Are you calling me a slut?”

  “Fuck yeah,” I reply.

  “Just making sure.” We laugh. I finish packing my shit, and then I’m on my way. I have three more massages today. Luckily, those are all near one another.

  Still, all I can think about is how much easier this would be if I had my own place.

  ***

  By the time my day is over, I feel like shit. I make it back home, take a shower and then realize I haven’t eaten since breakfast. After grabbing my cell, I head for the door. For some reason, I don’t feel like eating alone. I start to head for Cody’s unit but then keep going and make a call instead.

  “Hello?” Gary asks timidly.

  “You have my name in your phone. Why do you sound like you’re not sure it’s really me whenever I call?” It makes me chuckle.

  “Because I’m still getting used to the fact that you call?”

  “Are you hungry? I need dinner. Let’s grab dinner. That’s what boyfriends do.” Stopping at the elevator, I push the button and wait.

  There’s a pause before he asks, “Has Steven called yet? I feel bad. You’ve been meeting me at the gym for the past few days, and now you want to go out to eat. I mean, it’s working for me. Peter keeps trying to call, so he must be annoyed as fuck now that he thinks I’m actually moving on, which is awesome. But I feel like I’m just wasting your time. We don’t have to make an appearance together every day. People aren’t paying that much attention. They have a life outside of us.”

  “Fuck that. No one has a life outside of me,” I tease. The elevator doors open, and I step inside, realizing that I want to meet Gary for dinner. It’s fun trying to figure him out, trying to discover how he can be so wild in the sack and timid in his daily life.

  And it’s also easier to focus on Gary’s shit than driving myself crazy and wondering why Steven hasn’t called. “Just eat with me. I’m heading down.”

  “You’re bossy.”

  “You like it.”

  “Ugh. I’ll meet you downstairs.” He hangs up the phone, and I realize another smile has spread across my lips. I don’t know why he fights himself so damn hard or why I seem to be making it my business. But he does, and I am…and yeah, I’ll scratch those thoughts too.

  It takes him about ten minutes to meet me. When he arrives, I realize his hair is wet. He must have either just gotten out of the shower or he wet it to meet me. He’s got this shy, unsure look on his face that presses my buttons in ways I wouldn’t have thought. “You’re cute,” I tell him when he stops in front of me.

  “I’m…” His brows pull together, and he gets this twitch under his right eye. “Why?”

  “Don’t ask why if someone says you’re cute. Own that shit, Gary. Let’s go.” I open the door for him. He doesn’t move, just stares at me before I signal for him to go out. When he does, I’m right behind him, and we’re making our way down Cypress Street.

  “Is Mike’s okay?” I ask him. It’s only about a block up the street. “We can eat on the patio up front. We’ll be sure to be seen.”

  “Yeah, that works. I…thank you for doing this. You’re going above and beyond.”

  I shrug, don’t tell him that part of the reason we’re heading to Mike’s right now is because I find him intriguing. I’ve never known someone like him before, and the thing is, it’s obvious he’s a good guy. It pisses me off what that fucker Peter did to him, and that he’s so in denial when given a compliment. He deserves better than that. “No problem.”

  It doesn’t take us long to get there and be seated. We both order sweet tea before the waiter has a chance to get away from us, and then we’re browsing the menu.

  “You didn’t answer my question on the phone,” he tells me.

  Without taking my eyes off the menu, I ask, “What question?”

  “If Steven has called.”

  My stomach clenches tight. No…no, he hasn’t called, and it’s driving me out of my fucking mind. What if he doesn’t? What if he changes his mind? “Nope.” My eyes are still browsing the sandwiches.

  Gary has a concerned tone to his voice when he speaks. “He will. Try not to worry about it. I’m sure he’s just been busy. It’ll all work out. It’s obvious he wants to give you the money.”

  It’s impossible to keep my eyes from darting his way now. I want to tell him I’m not worried because I hate feeling out of control, like I’m being given some kind of test to tell if I’m good enough because that’s always what my parents did. But the truth is, I’m really fucking worried it won’t happen. That I’ll fail. There’s also a part of me that wants to know how in the hell he realized I’m bothered, but I don’t say that either. Instead, I answer with, “I’m thinking about getting the roast beef sandwich. I deserve some bread today. What about you?”

  Gary gets a frown on his face, and there’s something almost endearing about it. Like he’s worried about me when he really doesn’t know me all that well. Gary’s got a big heart, and people tend not to waste theirs on me. He is, though.

  The waiter shows up and asks if we’re ready to order. I wait for Gary, who is still fucking looking at me like I’m a goddamned puzzle he’s trying to figure out. Forget that I likely see him the same way—I don’t make it as obvious as he does.

  He orders a BLT, and I ask for the roast beef sandwich. When we’re alone again, I lower my voice and ask, “How did we meet?”

  “Huh?”

  “If anyone asks, how did we meet?”

  “I don’t know. How everyone meets? We were out at Flirt, went home together.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, but that happens all the time with everyone. I’ve gone home with a shit-ton of men fr
om Flirt, and my ass has never dated any of them.”

  “You’ve never been serious about anyone?” he asks.

  “Nope. And don’t plan on it. So, back to us—why were you different? How did you tame the beast?”

  He nearly snorts sweet tea through his nose. “Tame the beast?”

  “Obviously. Now answer.” I’m curious how he’ll respond. Gary doesn’t seem like the type who has a whole lot of good things to say about himself.

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “Could be because you’re a hot piece of ass.” I lean back in my chair and stretch my legs out in front of me.

  “There you go. There’s your answer, though I doubt I’m the only good lay you’ve had.”

  “It could also be because you’re shy and not cocky, and that’s so fucking different from me that I find it interesting.” That one seems to surprise him, which makes me want to keep going. “Hmm…but you’re not completely shy. You’re like the wolf in sheep’s clothing—quiet and submissive on the outside but a fucking beast on the inside.” I’m enjoying this, I realize. The banter we have together.

  “I thought you were the beast?” he asks.

  “We both are.” He looks away, takes a drink, and I add, “Maybe I just thought there was a lot more going on with you than you showed the world, and I wanted to find out what those other pieces were.” Which is more truth than fiction, but he doesn’t need to know that.

  His eyes get intense, emotions flashing through them that I don’t understand. It makes me shift uncomfortably. “I’m good at this game. If massage therapy doesn’t work out, I can be a boyfriend-for-hire—oh, food’s coming.” The waiter brings our plates. I avoid Gary’s eyes because I’m nervous he’ll see those things I said were true. That I do think there’s more to him than he shows the world, only I don’t know what it is…but there’s a part of me that wants to.

  We eat in near silence. Even though he argues with me, I pay for the meal, and then we walk back to Metropolis.

  “I’ll walk you up,” I tell him.

 

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