Page 51 of Faking All the Way
“I want to remind him that you’ve moved on,” I say quietly.
Chapter Nineteen
Kat
My stomach flips over on itself, doing a sudden series of somersaults. My heart stutters in my chest, skipping beats in a way that can’t be healthy. For a second, I think I must be insane, that I’m totally wrong about what Asher is suggesting. That my mind has gone to some wildly inappropriate place and he’s actually talking about something completely innocent.
But the look in his eyes, the way he holds my gaze with unblinking certainty, makes me realize I’m not wrong at all.
He wants to pretend to have sex in this room. Wants Daniel to hear it through these thin walls.
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry as I lick my lips. “How would we even… do that?”
He chuckles, low and quiet, and the sound makes my skin prickle. “It shouldn’t be hard. I’m guessing the walls are pretty thin.”
I nod, because he’s right about that. I know this house well, and I know how easy it is to overhear things from one room to another.
“So we’d just need to make some noises,” he continues, his voice still low. “Bang the headboard against the wall a little. Make sure Daniel hears it.”
He shifts, going up on one elbow so he’s looking down at me. In the dim light filtering in through the window, I can make out the sharp line of his jaw as his eyes gleam in the darkness. “The real question is, do youwantto? Do you want to let your ex know that you never think about him anymore? That you’ve moved on?”
I consider that, my pulse racing so fast I can feel it in my throat, in my wrists, everywhere. I think about what Asher said earlier, about how Daniel likes to tell himself I’m pining for him. That I regret losing him, that I’m sitting at home alone wishing things had worked out differently.
And I realize that’s true. It’s been clear in the way he acts around me ever since I got back to Maplewood. The pity I saw on his face when he spotted me at the airport, like he felt sorry for me when he thought I was all alone. The way he almost seemed disappointed or annoyed when I told him I’m seeing someone, as if it bothers him to see me thriving in the wake of our relationship.
Well, fuck that.
I take a breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “Yeah. I do.” My stomach flutters again, and I can’t stop myself from adding, “But you’ll have to take the lead. I’m not really sure how to do this.”
“You’ll be great,” he says, and there’s something in his voice that makes heat pool low in my belly. “Just do what feels right. Follow your instincts.”
I nod, and there’s a charged moment between us as we stare at each other in the darkness. The air feels electric, thick with anticipation. The brightness of the falling snow outside illuminates the dim room enough that I can make out hisshadowed features, and the look in his eyes makes my breath catch.
Then he groans softly, and the sound is so real, so full of desire, that it catches me off guard. “Mmm, baby. You smell so good.” His voice drops to a low growl. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
His words shoot right through me like a lightning bolt, shocking me, sending sparks through my entire body. The way he says it, the heat in his voice, doesn’t sound fake at all. It sounds so fucking real. I gasp without meaning to, the sound escaping before I can stop it.
He nods encouragingly, and I realize I’m supposed to respond. To play my part in this. So I let out a little moan, soft and breathy.
He curses in response. “Fuck.”
I blink, unable to tell if that’s his honest reaction to the noise I just made, or if it’s still part of the act we’re putting on. I whimper again, letting the sound get louder this time, drawing it out a little.
“God, baby,” he murmurs, his voice rougher now, gravelly in a way that sets off a rush of butterflies in my stomach. “Get this nightgown off. I need to see all of you.”
He hasn’t moved since we started this, still propped up on one elbow about a foot away from me. But he hasn’t looked away from me either, and even though it’s just words and he hasn’t touched me at all, it affects me more than I ever could have anticipated. He’s staring at me in a way that almost makes me believe he actually wants to see me naked, that the thought of it is driving him out of his mind.
It takes me a second to remember how to speak, but I know that was my cue. It’s my turn to say something.
Dragging in a deep breath, I work up the courage to say, “You first. I want to see you too.”
Something shifts in his expression, the muscles in his cheek shifting as his jaw clenches. He makes a sound under his breath, an inarticulate noise that seems almost tortured. “Such a dirty girl. You want to see what you do to me?”
He shifts on the bed, making the old springs squeak, then groans again. The sound is deep and rough and goes straight to my clit.
My pussy clenches involuntarily, and I let out another sound that’s half moan, half whimper. “Fuck, you’re so…”
I don’t even know how to finish that sentence, my brain short circuiting a little as if the heat building inside me has fried the circuit boards. But it doesn’t seem to matter, because Asher takes over, filling the silence with more words that make my head spin.
