Page 23 of Faking with Three

I push inside her slowly, feeling every inch of her as she stretches around me. She’s tight and slick, clenching down on me as I fill her, and I have to grit my teeth to hold back.

She lets out a shaky breath, her nails raking down my back. “Jax,” she breathes out, her voice almost a whimper.

“I’ve got you,” I murmur, leaning down to kiss her, swallowing her moan as I start to move. I keep it slow at first, savoring the feel of her, the way her body welcomes me back in.But she’s greedy, her hips meeting mine with every thrust, and soon, I can’t hold back anymore.

I pick up the pace, driving into her harder, deeper. Her head falls back against the pillow, a low moan escaping her lips. I can feel her nails digging into my skin, her thighs clamping around my hips, and I know she’s close again.

“You feel so good,” I groan, dropping my head to kiss her neck, sucking a mark there that I know will bruise. “So fucking good, Liv.”

Her breath hitches, her back arching off the bed. “Don’t stop,” she gasps out, her voice breaking on the words. “Please, Jax, don’t stop.”

I grip her hips, slamming into her with everything I’ve got. She’s writhing beneath me, her body tightening, and then she shatters, crying out my name as she comes. I keep going, driving her through it, feeling her pulse and clench around me until it drags me over the edge with her.

I bury myself deep inside her, coming hard, groaning her name against her lips. My vision goes white for a second, the pleasure so intense it’s almost blinding.

When I finally come back to myself, we’re both breathless, clinging to each other like we’re afraid to let go. I roll us onto our sides, keeping her close, our bodies still tangled together.

She’s quiet for a moment, her head resting against my chest, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my skin. “That was…” she trails off, letting out a soft, satisfied sigh.

“Yeah,” I agree, running my fingers through her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “It was.”

I wake up to the smell of coffee, a scent that pulls me out of the haze of sleep. For a second, I’m disoriented, blinking up at the ceiling, trying to remember where I am. Then it hits me—Olivia. Last night. The way she felt beneath me, the sounds she made, the way she looked at me like I was the only man in the world.

I grin to myself, running a hand through my hair as I roll out of bed. But when I glance over, the bed is empty, the sheets cool. My grin fades a bit.

I pull on my boxers and make my way down the hallway, feeling oddly nervous. I don’t usually get this way after hooking up, but there’s something different about Olivia. I tug on my jeans and head toward the kitchen, anticipation thrumming through me.

There she is, standing by the counter in one of those oversized T-shirts, her hair a tousled mess, looking like every morning fantasy I’ve ever had. She’s holding a mug of coffee in one hand, staring out the window, lost in thought.

“Good morning, beautiful,” I say, sliding up behind her and reaching out to wrap my arm around her waist. She stiffens just a little, just enough to make me hesitate.

She turns, handing me a mug of coffee and stepping back, dodging my attempt to kiss her. I pull back, taking the hint, and try to read her expression, but she’s got this guarded look that makes it hard to figure out what’s going on.

“So… last night was fun,” she says, her voice light but not quite casual. There’s a hint of something else there, something that doesn’t match her words.

I raise an eyebrow, taking a sip of the coffee she made for me. “Yeah, it was,” I say, watching her carefully. “But?”

She swallows, looking down at her own mug. “But… I didn’t really come back to town to get… involved, you know?” She glances up, meeting my eyes, and there’s a flash of uncertainty, like she’s waiting to see how I’ll react.

“Uh-huh.” I nod slowly, keeping my tone easy. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, looking everywhere but at me. “Nothing’s wrong but…”

There it is. The “but.” I feel a little jolt of something sharp in my chest. “But?” I echo, crossing my arms. “Are you saying you regret it?”

Her eyes snap up to mine, wide with surprise. “No!” she says too quickly. “No, I don’t regret it. It’s just… I didn’t come back to town to get involved with anyone. And I’m leaving soon, so…”

I take a slow step toward her, narrowing the gap she’s trying so hard to create. “You’re leaving?” I say, arching an eyebrow. “When?”

She hesitates, pressing her lips together. “Soon,” she mumbles, looking away. She’s not meeting my eyes, and it hits me—she’s not being completely honest.

“Bullshit,” I say quietly, reaching out and gently tilting her chin up so she has to look at me. “Because last night didn’t feel like a one-time thing. At least not to me.”

She shifts uncomfortably, casting her eyes down, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. “Look, it’s just… I came back to clear my head, get my life together. Not to complicate things with… with Heather’s brother.” She says it like it’s the final nail in the coffin, the trump card to end the conversation.

I let that sit between us for a second, the sound of the coffee maker humming in the background. “So you’re saying you won’t let yourself like me because I’m your best friend’s brother?”

“It’s not that simple, Jax,” she says, looking up at me, finally meeting my eyes. There’s something vulnerable there, something real. “I don’t know what I’m doing here. And getting involved with you—however fun that might be—probably isn’t the answer.”

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