Page 58 of Faking It Right
I pulled out a pack of wet wipes I kept for, well, similar situations, though usually after solo activities. The irony wasn’t lost on me that I was now using them to clean up my best friend after we’d had sex.
Harley arched an eyebrow. “You’re well prepared, considering you were never a Boy Scout.”
“Don’t get cocky. It’s only basic hygiene.”
“Oh, I’m definitely cocky,” he replied, gesturing at his body. “And you just proved how much you enjoy that about me.”
I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossibly charming,” he corrected, watching me with curiosity and amusement as I grabbed a wipe.
“This might be cold.” I hesitated before pressing the wipe against his stomach.
Harley sucked in a breath, his muscles tensing under my touch. “A little warning next time?”
“I literally just warned you,” I pointed out, snorting with amusement as I cleaned the mess off his skin.
My hands trembled as I wiped him down. It was more intimate than the mind-blowing sex we’d just had. My touch was careful,tender in a way I hadn’t realized I was capable of. I wanted to get it right for him.
“You know, I never pictured you as the aftercare type.”
I paused, meeting his gaze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing bad,” he assured me. “But you’ve always been pragmatic about sex. It seemed like something to check off a to-do list.”
I frowned, resuming my task. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” Harley’s tone was gentle, not accusatory. “You’ve never discussed your hookups with any real enthusiasm. It was always ‘Yeah, we had sex’ with the same tone you’d use to say, ‘Yeah, I did laundry.’”
His observation hit closer to home than I wanted to admit. “Maybe I didn’t want to kiss and tell.”
Harley snorted. “Please. We’ve been friends for three years and roommates for two. I know more about your sex life than your doctor does.”
“That’s disturbing,” I muttered, though he wasn’t wrong.
“My point is,” Harley continued, “this is different for you. You’re being sweet.”
I grabbed a fresh wipe, focusing on cleaning between his thighs to mask my expression. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Too late. I’m already planning to milk this for all it’s worth.”
I looked up, narrowing my eyes at him. “Milk what, exactly?”
“The fact that you’re tenderly wiping me down after fucking me senseless. It’s going in my journal tonight. ‘Dear Diary, all my dreams came true today when Ryker?—’”
I flicked the used wipe at him, hitting him square in the chest. “Shut up.”
“Make me.”
“I just did,” I pointed out. “Pretty thoroughly, I might add.”
“Mmm, yes you did.” Harley stretched like a satisfied cat. “But I recover quickly.”
I shook my head, fighting a smile as I grabbed another wipe. “You’re insatiable.”
“Only for you, snookums.”
The absurd pet name paired with his kissy face noises made me laugh despite myself. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
