Page 51 of Faking Ties

“N… No?”

“I accept that challenge.” I talk over her, sliding her leg over my shoulder. “All you have to do is enjoy.”

“We should go, find Brian and—ohhhh.” She moans the last word when I lick her from slit to clit.

“You’ll have to be quiet.” I nuzzle her thigh. “We aren’t going anywhere. Not until I taste you and make you come. Make you forget about everything.”

She stares at me in shock, and I ask, “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

I nod, fully aware this doesn’t mean anything, but that doesn’t stop the excitement from zipping through me. I’ve dreamt about how she’d taste, and I selfishly need to know. I lap at her clit, not at all in a hurry, and moan. She tastes divine. I could eat her all day, every day and never tire of it, of her. My gaze is laser-focused on her face, reading every reaction she has. I need this to feel good for her. I need her to want this as much as I do. The wetter she becomes, the more I feast on her. Flicking, teasing, teeth grazing, my name a prayer on her lips.

“Oh God, oh God,” she chants, pushing her hips up, demanding more. “Hunter, please.”

I hold her ass firmly in my hands and suck onto her clit like I’ve discovered she likes before spearing her with my tongue.

Her entire body stiffens, and she slaps a hand over her mouth to quiet her moans of pleasure. What I wouldn’t give to hear her scream my name while she orgasms. My phone buzzes, the light jiggling with it, but I refuse to stop. Not when her pussy convulsing around my tongue is my new favorite feeling in the world.

When she finishes, I kiss her inner thigh and help her straighten her clothes. My dick is rock hard and needs relief, but given the fact that both of our phones are ringing, it looks like there won’t be time for that.

And for the first time, I don’t care. I’ve never walked away from a hookup without getting my own pleasure first. But with Stella, it doesn’t matter. Only her pleasure does, and I refuse to think too hard about whatthatmeans.

“Brian keeps calling,” she says.

“Good for him,” I say and kiss her hard on the lips. “Next time, we’re doing that somewhere where we don’t have to be quiet.”

“All right.” She says it shyly, as if surprised I want to do it again.

Brian calls again and Stella sighs. “Never thought I’d say this, but I wish we didn’t have to leave this closet. I really don’t want to debrief with him or talk to the police.”

“I know.” I kiss the top of her head. “But I’ll be there the entire time.”

The day after the incident,the press somehow got ahold of the police report we filed against every paparazzo there. Stella’s team put her on lockdown, insisting she stay home if she’s not performing. Her security has increased tenfold after the police discovered that her car’s tires were slashed while waiting at a traffic light and that’s why it didn’t arrive at the club to get us.

The next day, I video call her. When she answers, I ask, “How are you holding up?”

“It’s okay, but this just came.” She lifts the package I sent to her up and shakes it. “Shall I open it?”

“Please.”

She gives me a happy smile as she tears into the box.

“What’s this?” she whispers as she picks up the first item and shoots me a wide-eyed look.

“Epsom salt to soak your feet in, to help them heal. The silicon covers are for your feet. One goes over your toes and the other on your heels to help protect them from your shoes. And lastly, some chamomile tea for your throat.”

She stares at the contents of the box for a few beats before swallowing hard. “You did all of this for me?”

“Yeah. I wanted to help. Your feet were beat up and…” I shrug, not sure what else to say. I want to take care of her, even if I’m in a different city. I have a feeling her team doesn’t do it for her if she had that many blisters and cuts in the first place.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Careful. If you keep doing things like this, I’m going to start assuming you’re sweet.”

“We wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?” I joke, but that’s exactly what I want to happen. Stella continuously sees the best in me, and it’s refreshing as hell. It makes me feel like anything is possible, like even us being together for real. Since the hotel closet, I’mbeginning to believe the lie that maybe, just maybe, someone could actually choose me. But that’s a dangerous thought. My mom rejected me for not being enough, for not being like my brother, and I can’t risk that again. Even if being with Stella feels right, too right.

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