Page 28 of Fake Date with the Mountain Man

It’s just a crush. We had a good time together and I just need to get her out of my system.

Luckily, Marlow is still looking out the window in the opposite direction as I force the corners of my mouth back into a straight line and try to think about something else. Koalas, burritos, washing machines.

That fucking kiss.

___

Back at Marlow’s place, it’s difficult to navigate through the crowd of people inside the deli, especially with Marlow’s giant suitcase in tow. By the time we arrive at the top of the stairs, it feels like we just fought our way through a mosh pit.

Marlow unlocks the door. I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding when she walks inside and pushes the door open for me to follow. I’ll see her tomorrow, but it will be different then. I need more of her right now. I need to figure out what this is between us and if she feels it, too. She kissed me back at the hotel. It felt like she wanted more, but if this weekend proved anything, it’s that Marlow is great at pretending.

I set her suitcase in the middle of her living room.

“Thanks for carrying that up for me,” she says, motioning at the bag.

I nod and clear my throat for words that don’t come. We both stand there silently, unsure of how a fake weekend together is supposed to end.

“I need to kiss you again,” I finally say.

If Marlow is surprised by these words, she doesn’t show it. She’s stiff, like she was bracing for them long before I let them fall out of my mouth. She swallows slowly and nods.

“Okay.” Her voice breaks.

I take a couple slow steps toward her. Our eyes are locked on each other until I reach up and run my fingers along her jaw and across her lips. She closes her eyes for a few seconds. When I tilt her face up to mine, Marlow steals a short glance at me just before I close my eyes. We slant our mouths over each other, picking up right where we left off.

The moment gives way to hot, wet, needy movements of our lips and tongue. My fingers are rougher as they travel down her neck, through the valley of her breasts, and down her stomach. I spread my fingers over the soft curve of her lower belly, the place I’ve been dying to touch since I saw her exposed and blushing last night.

Marlow’s back is pressed against the wall, her front pressed against me. All her soft curves mold to fit me. My hardness rests at the cleft of her legs. My lips move down her neck, planting long, hot kisses along her jaw and down her throat. She moans into my ear – a sweet but primal noise that I would never imagine her making.

A subtle roll of her hips against mine is all it takes to make me fucking wild. The brush of her pussy over my painfully hard cock…even through all our layers of clothing. I pin her harder against the wall, pressing against her until her breath hitches.

“Tell me you want this,” I say against her neck.

Becausefuck, I need it. I need her. Whether it’s to get her out of my system or let her under my skin, I’m not sure.

“I need it,” she moans. “Please, Ryan.”

I push away enough to create an inch of space between us. Marlow stays pinned to the wall as if it’s the only thing holding her up.

“Spread your legs.”

She complies and I run my hand up the soft skin of her thigh to the thin strip of fabric between her legs, intending to just rub her lightly there. But when I find that fabric drenched and clinging to her, I greedily pull it aside and run my fingers over her bare, slippery flesh.

“So fucking wet,” I whisper as I slip a finger inside of her, slow and deep, curling my fingertips against that soft, smooth place that makes her moan and clench around my fingers.

She’s grinding into my hand, looking for even more. More of me, more of her, more of this.

Instead, I slide my finger out of her and watch the delicious moment of torment on her face. Her eyes open enough to take in my satisfied smile. I want to make her beg. I want to make her come unraveled. I want to watch her come just for me.

“Please,” she whispers.

I push back into her with two fingers this time. My thumb works circles over her clit. Marlow’s legs shake and she steadies herself by grasping my shoulders.

She’s close. So close. I can feel the way she tightens around me.

But then she pulls back. She’s still panting and dripping and moaning, but I feel the shift, like a reset button deep inside her. She’s still chasing it, but she’s notright thereanymore.

I don’t know who needs her to come more – me or her.

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