Page 41 of Faking It Right
I stared at Harley, my brain struggling to comprehend everything. My best friend had given me the most satisfying blow job of my life. And I’d enjoyed it so much I was still trembling.
“You okay there?” Harley asked, looking far too pleased with himself. He moved off his knees to sit in front of me.
I made an explosive gesture with my hand. “Mind. Blown.”
“As well as your dick,” he gleefully added. “I’ll take that as a compliment, thanks.”
The realization crashed into my brain with all the subtlety of a toddler with a drum set. Dating Harley for real meant I’d get unlimited access to blow job skills that would make porn stars take notes. The thought made my spent cock twitch with interest.
“Huh, so this is what I’ve been missing,” I murmured, more to myself than to him.
Harley arched an eyebrow. “What was that?”
I cleared my throat, embarrassed to voice my thoughts. “I’m wondering if you’re that good at that, then how much better would you be at actual sex?”
His eyes darkened with interest. “Is that something you’re curious about now?”
The idea, which twenty-four hours ago would have been filed in my brain under “Absolutely Not, Are You Kidding Me?” was suddenly making a very compelling case for itself. “Maybe?”
Harley’s smile was predatory. “Well, well, well. Look who’s coming around to the possibility of us dating for real.”
“I didn’t say that,” I protested.
“You didn’t have to. Your body says plenty.”
It belatedly occurred to me that the entire exchange had been a one-way ticket to Pleasure Town, and I’d been the only passenger. Harley had done all the work, and I hadn’t even offered to punch his ticket. A hot spike of guilt shot through me. “Wait, what about you?”
He glanced down at himself, then back at me with a raised eyebrow. “What about me?”
“Don’t you need to…” My embarrassment prevented me from finishing my sentence.
His lips twitched with amusement. “Are you offering to return the favor, snookums?”
The thought of giving him a blow job was intimidating. I had zero experience with that act, and after witnessing his skill, I knew I’d disappoint him, especially since he was so big that itsuggested his ancestors had successfully mated with redwood trees at some point.
“I don’t know how,” I admitted, hating how inexperienced I sounded.
Harley radiated amusement. “That’s sweet of you to worry about, but the problem took care of itself.”
I blinked in confusion. “What?”
He shrugged, looking shy for the first time since I’d known him. “I came when you did.”
I almost couldn’t comprehend it. “From being able to pleasure me?”
“Yep.” He stood up and helped me rise before we turned off the water. “That’s what happens when you’re with someone you care about.”
The implication of his words landed like a piano dropped from a fifty-story building. It was sudden, devastating, and hit with enough force to leave me as a Ryker-shaped outline in the pavement as I realized Harley had gotten off from pleasuring me because he cared about me. It made me understand that he really loved me. It wasn’t him flirting or a fun game to play. The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.
I wanted to ask him if that was true, if he loved me, but I couldn’t bring myself to voice the question. Partly because I was afraid of the answer, but mostly because I didn’t know what I’d say in return.
We dried off in silence, the air between us charged with unspoken emotions. One thing stood crystal clear. Our fakerelationship was becoming all too real. But what did I intend to do about it?
“Can we take it slow?” I asked. “This is still new for me.”
“We can go at whatever pace you need. Though I should warn you, my definition of ‘slow’ includes more shower activities and jerking off.”
I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in days. “I think I can handle that.”
