Page 17 of My Fearless Fake Fling

We?

“I am,” I said back.

“It’s my apartment. My rules. We shower together.”

Lord help me… please, please help me. I couldn’t saynoto this guy.

Instead of me leading him, he led me to the bathroom and stopped us by his shower so he could turn on the water and get the temperature just right. Oh, he got it right. Warm. Relaxing. So relaxing, I let my guard down and that was when he dropped to his knees, flung my leg over his shoulder, pushed me back against the tiles and well, to be honest, gave me the second-best orgasm ofmy life. The first being in the bed this morning.

I know I technically started it, but if he didn’t stop giving these perfect orgasms, how would I possibly be able to let him go at the end of the month?

He stood, wiped off his mouth, rinsed his face in the shower spray, and then kissed me. “Thanks, baby. You taste every bit as good as I thought you would.”

My whole body flushed red.

“Don’t be embarrassed now,” he said. “You’re fearless. Besides, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

And it appeared I’d graduated fromsweethearttobaby. Darn him. Darn his sweet words, his zucchini, and double darn his mouth. Because they spoke those sweet words and because of the tongue to sweet-spot orgasm thing.

We cleaned up. Len gave me his tarry robe while he used old towels to dry off with.

Without any other options, I re-wore the jeans from yesterday. Len had washed and dried them for me, but since I’d slept in the undies, I had to go undie-less. Plus, usually I wore nicer slacks to work. He loaned me a purple slim-fit button-down that I tied at the waist, and I threw my hair up in a loose bun. I used the little makeup I carried in my bag and that was that.

“Ready,” I said.

“Got time for breakfast?” he asked.

Jiminy Cricket, the man made jeans and a T-shirt look like a single-breasted suit.

“I could eat something quick.”

He nodded and headed for the refrigerator. And while he rummaged for ingredients, I picked my phone up from where he had it charging to check my emails. My fingers crossed that my early appointment had canceled, leaving me with more quality Len time.

No luck there, but holy—the messages. Notifications from facepage and instaphoto. Every friend or acquaintance I knew, it seemed, sent messages yesterday. Liking or loving the new video and leaving encouragements like, ‘You go, girl!’ and ‘Kami’s back’ among others.

It wasn’t the skinny-dipping video, though there were some more comments on that one, too.

I clicked on it. There I was. In Coup’s. Eating the hottest hot wings known to man. “Uh, Len… is there something you want to tell me?”

He looked at me, curious, over his shoulder. “I don’t—oh… People responded to the hot wings video, right?”

“Yes. And I didn’t even know therewasa hot wings video.”

“How are you supposed to show up your ex without the proof?”

Well, he had a point there.

“Besides,” he said, “that was epic. I’ve never completed that challenge.”

I smiled, contemplating that thought as the kitchen began to fill with the aroma of creamy scrambled eggs and buttered whole grain toast. Fast but delicious. Len was a cooking badarse. He even added cinnamon to his coffee grounds before he brewed it.

We ate and I legitimately wanted this, to wake up next to Len, shower with Len, and eat his delectable breakfasts for the rest of my life. This screaming crush was careening down a dangerous road.

Fake boyfriend, Kam. Fake. Not real. He doesn’t want you like that.

After we ate, he drove me to the salon. “See you later, baby,” he said right before smacking a big ol’ kiss to my lips. One of my coworkers, Brigeeta, pounded on the window as she passed. When I turned, she had two thumbs-up for me. Len threw his head back and laughed.

Wow, that sounded sexy-wonderful.

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