Page 69 of Maybe We Can Fake It

BRENDEN

Ialmosttripupthe stairs in my haste to get to my bedroom. Travis is laughing behind me, but I’m not slowing down. This is the first time he’s been the one to initiate fooling around, and let me tell you, I amherefor it.

You’d think having his dick in my mouth this afternoon would’ve been enough to keep me satiated for more than twenty-four hours. But apparently not. Plus if I recall correctly—and seriously, as if I could forget—he promised me a blowjob.

Travis barely gets the bedroom door closed behind us before I’m stripping off my shirt and pants, leaving them in a messy heap on the floor. He laughs again. “Eager much?”

“Nope. Not at all,” I lie brazenly.

“Okay, good. Because I think I’m more tired than I thought. Maybe we should just get to sleep.” He lets out a long yawn as he stretches his arms behind him.

My mouth hangs open for a moment before I force myself to shut it, attempting to hide my disappointment. I run my finger over the waistband of my boxer-briefs awkwardly. “Oh. That’sfine.” When he cracks a smile, I suck in a breath. “Wait, are you fucking with me?”

“Of course I’m fucking with you.”

“Well, that’s just rude.” I turn away from him, pretending to be offended.

He reaches for me before I can step away, his large hands wrapping around my upper arms and tugging me backward until my back hits his chest. “Let me make it up to you,” he suggests, voice low and growly in my ear.

“Okay,” I say. And I say it perfectly normally. I absolutely do not squeak it.

His idea of making it up to me starts with his teeth grazing their way down the side of my neck and along the top of my shoulder. When I sag into him, he splays a hand over my stomach. It’s not exactly a dirty move, but the possessiveness of it sends a zing shooting up my spine.

He brushes his pinky down my happy trail and then dips it below my waistband. I press my ass into his front, hoping to encourage him to go farther. His other hand comes to the front of my hip, holding me tightly against him. I’m tenting my underwear now and rocking upward trying to get contact on my dick, but he’s stubbornly refusing to grab it.

“You’re a liar,” I complain. “You’re not making it up to me.”

“Not yet,” he says, sounding awfully smug.

“Then when? Because if you don’t hurry up and get on with it, I’m going to take matters into my own hands.”

To show him that by “matters” I mean myself, I reach for my dick. But before I can wrap my hand around it, he grabs my wrist and carefully maneuvers my arm behind my back, trapping it between our bodies. I whine and he lets go, his hand coming up to wrap loosely around my throat instead.

Despite being free to move my arm now, I don’t. I don’t move at all. His other hand is still pressed over my hip, and his fingersmight as well be rope for how restrained I feel. And I mean that in a good way. A pretty fucking awesome way, actually. Because he has my body flush against his and he clearly wants to keep me here.

I suppose I’ll survive a few more minutes without touching my dick.

Maybe.

Thirty seconds, at least.

Even though he’s not that much bigger than me, Travis maneuvers my body easily, like I’m his puppet. He brings both of my arms up over my head and settles my hands on the nape of his neck. I scratch my nails lightly through his hair as he continues to tease me with kisses to my neck and shoulders.

This time when I start a rocking motion, pushing my ass against him, he doesn’t stop me. In fact, his grip on my hip tightens, but he uses it to guide my body back and forth. He uses his other hand to take turns playing with my nipples until they harden and I lose my rhythm.

I’m squirming more than rocking now. But I can feel his stiff length poking into my ass, so hopefully that means he’s ready to end this torture and move on to the main event.

I don’t even notice my hand has drifted out of his hair and down to my dick again. Travis notices though. And rather than grabbing my wrist this time, he responds with a hard bite to the top of my shoulder.

“Ow! Fucking hell,” I cry. But even though it hurt, it also made my dick twitch in my hand.Weird.

“Too much?” he asks, licking over the spot he just attacked.

I whip my head fiercely side to side. If he wants to bite me, he can bite me. Hell, I’ll let him do pretty much anything he wants at this point, as long as he puts my dick in his mouth before I explode. Because I’d like to explodewithmy dick in his mouth, thank you very much.

With no warning, he squats down a bit, securing one arm behind my thighs, and then scoops me up bridal-style like I weigh nothing. Wrapping my arms around his neck instinctually, I let him carry me the few steps to the bed. Which he proceeds to toss me onto.

Before I have a chance to complain—not that I really would, because damn, that washot—he’s on top of me, bracing his forearms on either side of my head, both caging me in and preventing all his weight from landing on me.

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