Page 128 of Faking It Right
His cheeks flushed crimson, but his pupils dilated at the suggestion. “I can’t think about that yet.” He snorted in amusement. “You’re insatiable.”
“Only because I’m with you,” I said, my tone shifting from playful to sincere. “You know that, right? The physical stuff was fucking incredible, but being with you makes everything more special.”
“Uh-oh, you’re going to risk ruining your reputation as a fuckboy if you keep saying sweet things like that.”
The playful energy between us settled, replaced by a quiet intensity that had nothing to do with the afterglow of sex.
“I love you, Ryker.” It felt incredible to say it without fearing the sentiment would chase him away. “I have for a long time.”
“Is this the part where I’m supposed to say your magical dick made me fall in love with you? Because that seems like a lot of pressure to put on one body part.”
I shifted us so we were face-to-face, making sure he could see my sincerity. “I’m in love with you. Have been since the beginning. But I will accept partial credit on behalf of my dick, if that helps.”
Ryker’s expression softened as his humor turned into vulnerability. “I love you, too. And not only for your dick, even though you’ve ruined me for sitting comfortably in public places for the rest of my life.”
“That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I laughed, pulling him in for a kiss that started light but deepened.
When we broke apart, he was smiling a rare, genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”
“We are,” I confirmed, my heart bursting with happiness. “You’re stuck with me now, snookums.”
“God help me,” he groaned, but he nestled closer.
Somewhere, the universe was having a good laugh at our expense. But for once, I was laughing, too, giddy knowing that the best friendship of my life had just leveled up in the most spectacular way possible. If I’d known all it would take was traumatizing him with an accidental peep show and his mother’s awful matchmaking skills, I would have orchestrated the disaster years ago to reach our happily ever after.
Epilogue
RYKER
TWO MONTHS LATER
I rodeHarley with desperate abandon, gripping my childhood bedroom headboard so hard my knuckles turned white. Each thrust hit places inside me that threatened to trigger noises that would require family therapy for everyone involved. If my sister heard us, I’d have to fake my own death and start a new life under an assumed identity in another country.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Harley murmured, his hands gripping my hips as he guided my movements. “Look at you, taking me so well. You were made for my cock.”
Harley’s dirty talk bypassed my brain entirely and reprogrammed my body into the world’s most enthusiastic cock socket. Even though it had only been three months, my body had already decided its primary function in life was to be filled with his dick.
“Careful, if you bite your lip any harder, you’ll bleed,” he teased. “It’s so arousing watching you try to hold back.”
Before I could react, he thrust up hard, hitting that perfect spot that made my last two working brain cells throw their hands up and announce an immediate fifteen-minute break from all rational thought. I slapped my hand over my mouth to muffle my cry.
“Shut up,” I hissed, glancing nervously at the door. “Sawyer and Gia will hear us.”
“Then you should probably stay quiet when I do this.” He shifted beneath me, changing his angle to hit that sweet spot dead-on with his next thrust.
I gasped louder than intended, my thighs trembling as I fought to maintain control. “You’re such an asshole.”
“An asshole you can’t get enough of,” he countered, his hands roaming my body with practiced ease. He pinched my nipples as I rode him.
I whimpered at the dual sensations.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to shoot my load inside you,” Harley continued.
The friction of him moving inside me, skin to skin, was a level of trust I’d never had before. It was a silent promise we’d made after agreeing to beonlyeach other’s. No barriers, just all of Harley. It was an intimacy that still left me breathless every single time.
“I love feeling you like this,” he continued, “with nothing between us.”
Words failed me spectacularly as my ability to think temporarily vacated the premises to make room for more pleasure. The bed chose violence, announcing our activities to the entireneighborhood with a rhythmic squeak that might as well have been a bullhorn strapped to a megaphone.
