Page 8 of I Wanna Be Your Lager

“Well, you put the thought in my head, and this is just what came out.”

I rub my chin. “I don’t think you can tastefully fake an orgasm.”

“Meg Ryan did it.”

“This is true.”

“I could be the next Meg Ryan.”

“You could.”

“Your turn.” She sits up straighter. “Since you think I was faking it. Let’s see your best fake orgasm.”

I laugh. “I don’t think so.”

“So you’ve never faked an orgasm?”

“No, I have. Mostly because I was tired and wanted to go to sleep, but this is different.”

Now it’s her turn to laugh. “Why is it different? I just did it.”

“Because I’m not,” I roll my hand between us, “going through the motions.”

“If you need to dry hump the bed, by all means, have at it.” She motions her hand over the comforter. “I won’t mind the show.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

She nods enthusiastically. “Yes. Yes, I would.” She scoots back to the edge of the bed. “The stage is yours.”

I shake my head, but a smile twitches on my lips. What the hell did I get myself into? Performing fake orgasms in a hotel room with a woman I met yesterday when I don’t even know her real name. I sit up but forgo the dry humping. Closing my eyelids, because this will most definitely be easier if I’m not looking at her, I open my mouth. “Uh. Oh. Uh. Mmm. Ooo.” I follow that with a few grunts and groans. Slowly, I lift my lids to find Kat staring back at me. A few seconds of silence pass between us before a laugh bursts out of her.

“Oh. My. God.” She tips over onto the bed, her entire body shaking with laughter. “I dodged a bullet if that’s what’s expected in bed.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “Hey! You put me on the spot.”

She holds up her hand as if she’s waving a flag. “Marked safe from Patrick’s orgasm.”

She continues to laugh, and I can’t help but join her. I wouldn’t want to have sex with me either if that’s what I really sound like.

“I promise you, my fake orgasm is nothing like my real one. Enough about me and my terrible fake orgasm. You still haven’t answered my question. Did you fake it the other night in the hotel room?”

She pushes herself off the bed and sits up. “A girl doesn’t fake and tell.”

I shift on the bed and lean toward her, invading her space. “I call bullshit on it being fake.”

Her gaze casts downward and fixates on my lips before drifting back up to meet my eyes. She inches closer to me. “What are you going to do? Prove it?”

I lift my chin, mainly to test the waters. She doesn’t back down, so I inch even closer. Her lips part a fraction. Her sweet coconut scent swirls around me, making it hard to concentrate. She intrigues me. I can’t grasp what it is, but I want to explore the electricity between us. My lips brush against hers. “Is that what you want?” I whisper.

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. Slowly, she nods. Mid nod, I crash my lips to hers.

SEVEN

SUNFLOWER

Eve

I’ve missed this. As much as someone can miss kissing someone they not only just met but also kissed for the first time twenty-four hours ago. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to see him again, but also locking lips with him? Again? His warm palms clasp both my cheeks, and I inch closer, resting my hands on his chest. My fingers curl around the fabric of his hoodie, holding on as his tongue sweeps along the seam of my lips. This kiss is hotter than the last. I want more. I need more. Parting my lips, I slide my tongue against his. A deep rumble sounds from his throat.

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