Page 37 of Faking It Right
“Come back,” Harley mumbled, reaching for me with grabby hands. “I wasn’t finished with you.”
I grabbed a clean pair of boxers from my bag. “If we don’t show up for breakfast soon, my mom or Sawyer will break down my door. And trust me, youreallydon’t want them walking in on whatever this is.”
He sat up on his elbows, the sheet pooling around his waist and showing off his chest. My eyes traced the path my hands and mouth had explored last night, and heat rushed to my face.
“Whatever this is?” Harley repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Pretty sure what we did has a name, snookums.”
I threw a T-shirt at his face. “Shut up and get dressed.”
He caught it with a chuckle. “So bossy. I love it.”
I turned away to hide my smile as I pulled on jeans and a henley. The sound of the bed creaking told me that Harley had finally gotten up. I made the rookie mistake of glancing over my shoulder. He stretched, gloriously naked and utterly unashamed, giving me a full view of everything I’d explored last night.
“Put some clothes on,” I gritted out, though I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
“Why? You’ve seen it all now.” He winked, sauntering toward me with a predatory gleam. “Touched it all, too.”
I backed up until I hit the wall, my heart racing as he caged me in his arms. “Harley?—”
He leaned in, his lips hovering near my ear. “You know what I think?”
My traitorous hands came up to rest on his bare chest. “What?”
His lips lingered near mine, a mere breath away from kissing. He ruined the moment when he said, “I think you should brush your teeth before breakfast. Your morning breath could clear a room.”
I shoved him away with a groan as he erupted into laughter. “You’re such an asshole.”
“An asshole you can’t seem to keep your hands off of,” he retorted, rummaging through his overnight bag for clothes.
I busied myself with finding socks, trying to ignore the view as he dressed. But my eyes staged a mutiny, determined to sneak peeks at him. I had to wage a full-scale international war just to keep my gaze fixed on my sock drawer.
Before yesterday, I’d only acknowledged Harley’s body as objectively attractive. Now, I couldn’t stop noticing the way his muscles moved under his skin or how his monster cock responded to my touch.
Harley waved a hand in front of my face. “You zoned out. Were you thinking about me naked again?”
“No.”
He grinned, tugging on his jeans. “Bullshit. Your face is red as a tourist on the beach who thought SPF 15 was plenty.”
“It’s hot in here,” I muttered, shoving my phone into my pocket.
“It certainly is.” He eyed me up and down in a way that made my knees forget they had a job to do.
Once we were both dressed, I hesitated at the door. “We should talk about…”
“About how you came so hard this morning you almost passed out?” Harley suggested with a smirk.
I punched his arm. “I did not.”
“You did. It was cute.”
“I meant we should discuss our game plan for downstairs. My family already thinks we’re together, but after last night and this morning, it feels different.”
Harley’s expression softened. “We’ll just be us. Nothing has to change because we had a little fun.”
“A little?” I raised an eyebrow. “You had your hand on my dick less than ten minutes ago.”
“And I’d happily put it there again,” he said with a cheeky grin. “But for now, let’s go get breakfast.”
