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“Because fake doesn’t fuck,” she says. “And you don’t do real girlfriends, and I don’t do broken hearts. Not again. I’ll do this to help you, Beau, to make your dream come true, too.” She draws a deep breath. “But I have to help myself as well. If we fuck, I’ll feel too much again. It’ll hurt too much when we have to say goodbye.”
Why does her vulnerability melt my heart and surge my cock?
Oh, I know.
Because Blair Monroe was the fuck of my life, too. And though I have all kinds of feelings, a past, and a secret with Colton Hawke, when it comes to women? Blair Monroe is the one I’m supposed to be with.
I haven’t been with anyone else since our Valentine’s night. I know she’s the one for me—the other love I can’t have.
But hang on…
Tempting her?
Now, that’s a game I can win. That’s a distraction I crave.
“So,” I stand up, “you admit my cock is king and your kitty can’t handle more?”
We can’t admit the truth, the real feelings that overwhelm us. But games? Like hell, we can’t play those.
“We both know I won,” she says. “I’ll always win our kink game.”
“Wanna play another round? Just for fake fun?”
“No,” she chuckles. “I told you, Beau. No fucking, and I mean it.”
“Can I tease you?’
“No.”
I step closer. “Can I taunt you?”
She licks her lips. “No.”
“Can I tempt you?”
“I’ll win that game, too.”
“Wanna bet?”
Usually, I have to be cautious, careful, and straight-laced, but not with Blair. She’s my freedom. She’s my survival. If Blair is by my side for this, I can win.
“I tell you what.” Like she knows it, she says, “We’ll make a bet.”
I lord over her, sitting on a sex bench, one I’m dying to strap her to before I rip that maid’s costume apart, fucking her sweet cunt again like the animals we are.
I can’t forget Blair’s pussy. Her thin black landing strip. Her bare ivory lips. Her soft pink petals. Her clit, a perfect blush pearl. Her opening, a dark rouge heaven. Her taste, tangy sugar until she comes, her little ocean like sweet watery milk pouring over my tongue.
Goddamn, I’m obsessed with her.
Always have been.
Hell, yes, I’m getting hard.
“What’s the bet, Blair?”
I lift a raven lock of her hair, twirling it like ebony silk around my finger, and she falls silent. Her lips part, eyeing my thick erection. I can’t hide it in my jeans inches from her lips.
Yes, it’s June and hot as balls to wear jeans, but I wore them for her. Because I fucked Blair on these jeans like a sacred sex sheet under us.
