Page 149 of Play Fake
When we finally break apart, both of us are breathing harder. Her lips are flushed, her eyes bright.
“Wow,” she whispers, a smile tugging at her mouth.
I laugh quietly, forehead still resting against hers. “Yeah. Wow.”
Her smile softens as I brush a strand of hair off her cheek, my fingers lingering along her jaw. The warmth of her skin seeps into me, grounding and electric all at once.
Her lips part, soft at first, then hungry as she clings to my shirt, dragging me closer. Her mouth is sweet and insistent, her teeth grazing my lower lip, tongue teasing at the seam of my mouth until I open for her. My hands slide down, finding the curve of her hips, pulling her flush against me. Her dress is warm from her skin, slipping beneath my fingers as I tug her in.
She moans quietly, hands grabbing in my hair, and the sound goes straight to my blood. I push her gently against the bed, letting her feel how much I want her, how hot and restless my body’s grown. Her head tips back, throat exposed, and I drag my mouth down to taste the skin there—her pulse stuttering under my lips.
I rock my hips into hers, both of us losing ourselves in the tension—heat building, breaths growing ragged. I tug the jacket off her shoulders, letting it pool silently on the floor. My palms slide up her bare arms, tracing goosebumps, feeling her shiver under my hands.
We stumble to the bed, tangled, breathless. I press her down, follow her, and kiss her again—deeper, harder, letting the world fall away. My thigh slips between hers, and she arches into me, her need as sharp as mine. We lose ourselves in the friction, the desperate want, hands exploring, mouths hungry and urgent.
She gasps into my mouth, nails scraping my neck, legs twining with mine. For a dizzy, endless moment, there’s nothing but her—the taste of her, the heat of her, the way she clings to me like she’ll never let go.
I press one last kiss to Sophie’s lips, lingering in the taste of her. Her hands slip from my neck reluctantly as I murmur,voice thick, “I, uh, rushed my shower after the game. I should probably take care of that before bed.”
She arches an eyebrow, lips rosy and swollen. “Okay.”
I duck into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me, and the quiet is a relief—a chance to catch my breath. My body is thrumming, charged with everything that just happened between us, the want almost painful. I strip down, step into the shower, and let the hot water soak over my skin.
For a minute, I just stand there, forehead pressed to the tile, picturing Sophie. Hair messy from my hands, dress bunched around her thighs, the sound she made when I pressed against her. My cock is already hard—aching. I wrap my hand around myself, slick from the water, and stroke slow, imagining it’s her fingers instead.
Every movement feeds the tension knotted low in my belly, and I bite back a groan, her name on my lips. I imagine her mouth, the way she looked at me a few minutes ago, the heat in her eyes. My hips move without thinking, chasing the friction, wanting more.
I lose myself in the fantasy, pumping harder, breaths coming rough and fast. I’m right on the edge, so close to losing it, when I think I hear her voice. Muffled and distant behind the bathroom door.
“Beck.”
My hand freezes. For a second I’m not sure if I imagined it, but then I hear her again, a little louder, a little breathless. “Beck.”
I curse softly, hastily rinsing off. With my heart racing, I grab a towel, wrap it around my waist, and step out into the steam-filled room.
She’s sprawled at the center of the bed, her dress hiked up, hand working slowly between her thighs, her other fist tangled tight in the sheets. Her head is tipped back, lips parted, eyessqueezed shut in abandon. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
The sight of her is enough to make me instantly hard again. The ache from the shower crashes back, sharper and deeper than before.
All I can do is stare, caught in the heat of her gaze, the towel barely hanging on as I take slow, hungry steps toward her.
She startles as she senses me, a crimson flush blooming across her cheeks. She tries to tug her dress down, even as her breathing stutters. “I—I didn’t think you’d…I?—”
I’m at the edge of the bed in an instant, voice thick and low with everything I’m feeling. “Don’t stop, Sophie.” My gaze rakes over her—over the bared skin of her thighs, the way her chest heaves, the need so clear in her eyes. “You don’t need to hide from me. Not ever.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, hungry and a little wild. For a heartbeat, she’s frozen, hand pausing beneath the fabric. I kneel on the mattress—barely aware that my towel’s about to slip, not caring at all. I want her to see what she does to me.
She bites her lip, cheeks burning, but she doesn’t look away. “Were you…?” Her voice is small, uncertain, but hope glimmers there.
“Yeah.” I let the towel drop, my cock already hard and aching for her. “I couldn’t help myself.” I take myself in hand, moving slow, letting her see every inch, every shudder of my body. “I got in the shower thinking of your hands on me. Ofyouon me. It’s all I could picture.”
She lets out a shaky breath, eyes tracing down my body, her hand slipping between her thighs again, bolder now. “I’ll keep going…if you do too.”
A slow, wicked smile twists my lips.
“Deal.” I tighten my grip, stroking myself in time with the way she moves. “God, you drive me insane, Sophie. You haveno idea how fucking sexy you look right now. That dress, those pretty little sounds you make…” My voice drops to a growl. “Touch yourself for me, pretty girl. Let me see how much you want it.”
Her breath hitches as she circles her clit, fingers slick and sure now, eyes locked on me. Her cheeks are blazing, but there’s no shyness left—not with the way I’m drinking her in, showing her exactly what she does to me. The whole room feels thick with heat and want.
