Page 81 of The Fake Out

I looked up at him with interest. “Really?”

He grimaced. “Yeah…I might have heard some shit I didn’t want to hear when he thought I was on the road last week.”

I laughed into his chest. “Oh, sorry, baby.”

He shrugged. “Guess that’s what I get for being twenty-five and moving back in with my dad. But I want him to be happy. Mom would want him to be happy.”

I squeezed his bicep. “You’re a good son.”

He shrugged. “Not always.”

He stroked my phoenix tattoo on my hip and kissed my neck, and I knew what that not-so-subtle move meant. I glanced down and rolled my eyes at his cock, already standing at attention again. This man had a lot of stamina, and I didn’t hate it. But I needed to pump the brakes.

“Baby, stop,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know if I can go again.”

He furrowed his brow and looked pained. “Sweets, did I hurt you tonight?”

“Well…I asked you to, but I’m sore.”

He kissed down my chest, working his way down my body. “Can I help you with that?”

“Maybe…” I said cheekily and grinned as he continued to kiss down my torso.

I ran my hand through his blonde locks as he situated himself between my legs. He kissed my thighs, and I hitched in a breath as he got closer to my center. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want me to.”

I shoved his head down to my clit, and he chuckled into my pussy. I was sore but not sore enough that if he wanted to pleasure me, I was going to say no.

“Mmm...so good. I love tasting you, sweets,” he moaned. He lifted up his head a bit to give me a cheeky grin, and then he went back to work.

I leaned back and gave into the pleasure, letting this man unravel my body and soul. Our time was quickly expiring, but I didn’t care at this moment. Not when he feasted on me like it would be the very last time. Like he needed to draw out my pleasure for his own survival. I was sore and well-fucked, but it didn’t stop me from arching my back and letting the pleasure take over.

“Fuuuck,” I moaned and gripped his hair.

He lifted his head up slightly. “One last time for me, sweets. Come for me one more time.”

All I did was nod, and then my orgasm exploded behind my eyes as he dipped his head back down and sucked on my clit.

I was done for. So done for. This man had broken me. And I didn’t care. Not when his name was a scream on my lips. And not when the waves of pleasure washed over me. Future Veronica would deal with those pesky feelings later.

Chapter Twenty-Three

BLAISE

I moaned as the steak hit my tastebuds.

TJ kicked my foot under the table. “Dude, don’t come in your pants over there.”

I winked at him. “I might. We played a good game tonight.”

“Fuck yeah, we did! Too bad, though,” TJ mused.

“Why?” Benny asked.

“Because shutouts make me horny,” TJ explained.