Page 70 of Maybe We Can Fake It

“Hi,” I say, a little lust-drunk at this point and fighting a dopey smile.

He answers me with a hard kiss, his tongue immediately demanding entrance to my mouth, which I have no problem granting him. I can’t be only a passive receiver of the kiss though. I give it back to him just as hard, digging my fingers in right below his shoulder blades to pull his body down closer on top of mine.

I never imagined I’d get to see this side of him—the confidently sexual side—but I love it. And even though I know it’s only sex, nothing more, the knowledge that hewantsme makes me feel like I’ve won some kind of prize.

Just like I intend on winning the May Games with him on Sunday.

I can’t believe he agreed to participate with me. What’s the town going to think? They won’t believe it either when they see him out there. And he’s doing it forme.

Wait, no. Not the time to get distracted.Focus.

Focus on the way Travis’s hips are pressing mine into the mattress. Focus on how he’s sucking on my bottom lip as he smoothly slides my underwear partway down my thighs, freeing my cock. Focus on getting him undressed too, so I’ll be able to feel his skin on mine.

Yes. That.

I gracelessly shove his flannel off his shoulders, while he laughs gently and helps me by sliding his arms out of the sleeves. Then I work on tugging his T-shirt up over his chest and grunt when I can’t get it any farther. He helps again, pulling it the rest of the way over his head and tossing both shirts to the floor beside the bed.

“Off,” I demand, fumbling with the button on his jeans.

He laughs again but obliges, though he chooses to get off the bed, standing up to remove the offending article. As I quickly yank my underwear off my legs, I want to protest the loss of him, but then he’s standing there in only his boxers, which do nothing to hide his erection. So really, no complaints here.

When he gets back on the bed, he lies down beside me and reaches for me, manhandling my body again until I’m the one on top. I’m straddling his thick thighs, and I can’t help but roll my hips, making my hard cock slide against his.

I’ve all but forgotten the promise of a blowjob. At this point, I’m so far gone that I’ll be satisfied with rutting against him until I get to come.

But then he scoots himself back so his head is propped up on the pillows. He pulls me toward him, forcing me to knee-walk my way up the bed and up his body until I’m straddling his chest. And then he says three words that almost undo me.

“Fuck my mouth.”

“Um, er, what?” I sputter.

“You heard me,” he says, voice low and sexy and doing things to my insides. “Do you want to?”

I laugh nervously. “What kind of question is that?” I mean, really. Has any gay man in the history ofeveractually said no when another man asks if he wants to fuck his mouth? I don’t think so.

Travis’s lip quirks up. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Well, shit.

The way he’s looking at me now, it almost feels like a challenge. And there’s no way in hell I’m backing down. Wrapping my hand around my base, I inch my hips forward so I can swipe my cockhead across his lips. His tongue darts out to taste, and a full-body shiver runs through me. I can’t wait any longer.

“Open,” I command, my voice husky. And shit, who even was that? Surely, it couldn’t bemetalking like this.

When he drops his mouth open, eyes gazing at me with so much lust it scorches my skin, I lose all sense of decorum. I thrust forward, sliding my cock along his tongue and not stopping until I hit resistance at the back of his throat.

Even though he gags a bit, he makes no move to get away from the invasion. Not that he has anywhere to go, since I’ve pretty much got his head pinned to the pillows. But I remind myself that he wanted it this way, and I keep going, thrusting in and out of the wet heat of his mouth, building up a rhythm.

The heat of his stare urges me on. While my eyes are mostly focused on the sight of my cock disappearing between his lips, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t taken his molten eyes off my face.

Good.I don’t want him to forget whose cock is owning his mouth like this. I know I can’t keep him, that this arrangement is only temporary, but that doesn’t stop me from doing my best to lay a claim right now.

I’m thinking with the wrong head, the head that’s nudging itself farther down Travis’s throat. But so what? There’s nothing wrong with wanting to paint my name in cum across his tongue. Or maybe across his face. Across his chest?

I can’t decide. But if I don’t slow down, the choice will be made for me, and I’ll spill so far down his throat he won’t even taste me. My toes are curling by his sides andfuck.

This is Travis fucking Reed underneath me. Hot, grumbly man of more complaints than smiles. The guy who swooped in to help me when I desperately needed it, like a knight in fucking flannel.

My fingers are threaded into his hair, holding him in place.MyTravis.Mine, mine, mine.

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